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Reviews

A First Look at The Promised Neverland

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Crack pacing, crisp artwork, and a shocking plot twist in chapter one — those are just three reasons to pick up The Promised Neverland when it arrives in comic shops on December 5th. The first volume is a masterful exercise in world-building, introducing the principal characters and the main conflict in a few economic strokes, avoiding the trap that ensnares so many fantasy authors: the info-dump introduction. Instead, the writer-artist team of Kaiu Shirai and Posuka Demizu allow the reader to figure out what’s happening by revealing important plot details as the characters uncover them, and letting the artwork establish the setting. That makes the very earliest pages of the story flow more like a rollercoaster than a Star Wars screen crawl, making every page turn feel like an urgent necessity.

The story begins at Grace Field House, an orphanage plucked from a Victorian novel: the main building is a homey Tudor villa that’s surrounded by open meadows and lush forest, perfect for a game of tag. Our first hint that something is amiss comes just six pages into the story, as Emma, the narrator, makes a mental note of all the things she’s grateful for: “a warm bed, delicious food” and “an all-white uniform.” Before we can ponder the significance of the uniform, however, Demizu inserts a panel revealing that every resident of Grace Field House has a number tattooed on her neck, a sure sign that the orphans are more prisoners than temporary wards:

A smattering of other clues — including a series of daily IQ tests and a fence encircling the property — reinforce our perception that Emma and her friends Roy and Norman are in grave danger. And while the earliest chapters occasionally bow to Shonen Jump convention with on-the-nose narration, it’s the artwork, not Emma’s voice-over, that makes each new revelation feel so sinister. Consider the panel that introduces the testing ritual:

In the first ten pages of the story, Demizu uses little to no shading to create volume or contrast, instead depicting the setting and characters through clean, graceful linework. The image above, which appears on pages 12-13, is the first time that we see such a dramatic use of tone; the students at the back of the frame look like they’re being swallowed by a black hole, while the students at the front sit under a klieg light’s glare. Demizu’s subsequent drawings are more restrained than this particular sequence, but her artwork becomes more detailed and complex than what we saw in the story’s first pages — it’s as if the setting is coming into focus for the first time, complicating our initial impressions of Grace Field House as a place of refuge.

I’m reluctant to say more about the plot, since the first chapter’s spell loses some of its potency if you know the Big Terrible Secret beforehand. (If you absolutely, positively must know what happens, Wikipedia has a decent, one-paragraph summary of the premise.) By the time Emma, Roy, and Norman realize the real purpose of their incarceration, however, the basic “rules” of the Promised Neverland universe have been firmly established, and the characters fleshed out enough for us to care whether they succeed in escaping. More importantly, the lead trio are smart and capable without seeming like miniature adults, making their likelihood of success seem uncertain, rather than preordained. That element of suspense may be difficult to sustain for 10 or 20 volumes, but hot damn — volume one is a nail-biter. Count me in for more!

Volume one debuts on December 5th in print and ebook form. Chapters 1-3 are available for free on the VIZ website; the story is currently being serialized in the English edition of Weekly Shonen Jump.

Slumbering Beauty, Vol. 1

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By Yumi Unita. Released in Japan by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Rakuen Le Paradis. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Angela Liu, Adapted by Marykate Jasper.

It can be difficult sometimes when your name becomes synonymous with something notorious. Slumbering Beauty has a lot of things I love. A snarky, emotionally repressed heroine who gradually opens up to other people even as we see that her home life is a wreck. A premise that can involve “situation of the week” yet still have an ongoing plot. Twists that become much darker when you think about them. And some very amusing humor. That said, it’s still hard for me to get past “from the creator of Bunny Drop” and not think “uh oh”. Fortunately, so far there seems to be absolutely no sign of any imbalanced and unsettling relationships here, though I felt the same way when I started Bunny Drop. It’s a good series with a dollop of fantasy, and I’m interested to see where it goes, though we appear to have caught up with Japan already.

Our heroine is Yaneko, a high school girl who really loves to sleep – in fact, it’s difficult for her to get up every morning. This is a problem for the sleep spirit Nerimu, whose job it is to ensure that humans get enough sleep and wake up on time. Yaneko has one of these things down. She can also see him, for reasons that aren’t quite clear yet, and over the course of the series becomes an apprentice as she accompanies him on his rounds to quiet flailing babies, ease the brains of constantly texting young ladies, and otherwise become the Japanese Sandman (it’s not clear whether she has to sneak out with the dew as well). In her interactions with him, Yaneko begins to make real human friends – she was very much the loner no one talks to before – and develop a bit more empathy, and Nerimu, the sleep spirit, is there to guide her.

One of Nerimu’s fellow spirits suggests that he take her on as an apprentice, and this was the part of the book that fascinated me the most, as it almost feels like a metaphor for suicide. Yaneko is making a couple of friends now, but her home life is so oppressive – the reason she seems to sleep so much and so deeply is her parents fighting all the time – that at one point she readily agrees to take on Nerimu’s job. He has to talk her down from this, saying that in effect she will be vanishing from the world, and pointing out his own tragic situation from centuries earlier – it’s not that he misses his mother, it’s that he can no longer even remember her face. I am hoping that Yaneko resists the urge for a volume or two longer, as I’m liking the way she’s gradually opening up and starting to care about others.

As I said earlier, this is the only volume out in Japan, so be prepared for a wait for the next one. It’s pretty good, though, and shows off the author’s innate skill without having any of the disquieting plotlines of her prior series. Give it a look.

A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 13

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By Kazumi Kamachi and Kiyotaka Haimura. Released in Japan as “To Aru Majutsu no Index” by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Prowse.

Last time I bemoaned my dislike of the author trying to be funny, which he does every once in a while. Fortunately, this book is the sequel to Book 12, which had all the funny stuff front-loaded, and so it is content to be a giant series of fights, showing off Touma’s stubborn drive to help people, Accelerator realizing that no, anti-hero doesn’t quite fit yet, he’s still a villain, and Crowley using people as unwitting pawns to such an extent that he’s actually called out on it at the end. In short, it’s doing the things I like to read A Certain Magical Index for, and therefore I would argue it’s an excellent volume. It also features a significant role for Index, who contrasts with Accelerator so much that it boggles the mind that their paths keep intersecting. Still waiting for her to be useless and annoying, that must be anime-only, I swear.

Introduced in this volume: Acqua of the Back, Terra of the Left (voice only). Compared to the ranting, deeply broken Vento of the Front, whose hatred and fury at anything related to science has literally been weaponized by the Catholic… geh, by the Orthodox Church, Acqua looks to be fairly sensible and calm. Of course, he still threatens Touma with death, but honestly, Touma can be a bit overbearing. And frankly, Acqua was right, Vento can’t just say “wait, I was wrong all along” and switch sides the way so many other opponents Touma’s dealt with have done. In terms of chronology, we’re directly after the events in Book 12, and the two read as a two-book set. Uiharu is slightly less out of character here at least, in her one scene before she collapses like most of the population in the city.

We also see Hyouka Kazakiri as well, and honestly it’s been so look since the 6th book I won’t blame anyone who had forgotten her. Sadly, she’s mostly used as a walking plot device, and I have a sneaking suspicion will continue to be irrelevant after this book is finished. Presumable she and Index are out having burgers and Cokes whenever the focus is not on them. The really important plot here, though, is Accelerator, who gets his first real spotlight since his “rehabilitation” in the 5th book. It wasn’t much of a rehabilitation, to be honest, and those who like their heroes and villains to be black and white won’t like this book at all. Most of his victims are mooks who also seem to be happy to kill innocent civilians if it serves them, but it’s the WAY Accelerator kills them – in one case punching a woman’s jaw off and then crushing her in a hydraulic press – that leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Not that I think it’s bad – it’s exactly what the author wants to do, showing us how much of Accelerator’s goodwill is entirely tied to Last Order, and when she’s not around or captured, god help everyone. I will leave the mysterious black Angel Wings he sprouts before sending Kihara into the sky like a rocket for a later date.

If you have been reading Index, this is a good one – no surprise given it’s an odd number. Good fights, Index gets to actually do things using the magic the narrative keeps insisting she doesn’t have, Touma gets to alternately talk and punch a villain down to size, and the frog-faced Doctor draws a line in the sand – and also shows us how close he really is to the heart of Academy City. And next time we take another European field trip, this time to France, and finally see why fandom loves Itsuwa so much.

Nekomonogatari: Cat Tale (Black)

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By NISIOISIN. Released in Japan by Kodansha. Released in North America by Vertical, Inc. Translated by Ko Ransom.

I had to reread my review of the Tsubasa Cat volume to make sure I didn’t repeat myself, as this book goes over a lot of the same ground that one did, even as it expands (and sometimes contradicts, as Nisio says himself in the afterword) on the story of Tsubasa Hanekawa and Golden Week. Indeed, it’s still not done, and Hanekawa’s tale will continue (and, for the most part, conclude) with Nekomonogatari (White) next time. But while Tsubasa Cat was more showing off Hanekawa’s stress due to her repressed love for Araragi, and ensuing jealousy at all the women in his life, particularly Senjogahara, this volume wants to examine what Hanekawa is like as a person, and how deeply screwed up and damaged she really is. And I’d also argue it’s even more about Araragi and Hanekawa’s deep-seated lust and passion for each other which never does blossom into anything more. This volume shows off why that’s probably a good thing.

The trend of “the heroine of the previous volume has a long scene with Araragi at the start of the following one” ends here (unless you count Hanekawa following herself), but man, what a way to bring it to a close. The conversation between Araragi and Tsukihi at the start of the volume may be the most rambling, pointless conversation in the history of the series, and that’s really saying something. It has such a reputation that Vertical actually sell it in the cover leaf copy. It is almost precisely one-quarter of the entire book. I don’t think it disappoints, though as always with Monogatari you’d better be prepared for some fanservice. The siblings’ conversation about love was used in the anime, but the conversation had to be cut to the absolute minimum – meaning the long dissertation taking in Anne of Green Gables, panties, more panties, and still more panties was left out. There’s also even more metatextual stuff than before – this was inevitable given that he wrote this as the anime was becoming really popular, but we get cute narrative mentions of Senjogahara, Hachikuji, and Kanbaru (who aren’t in the book, this taking place before the events of the main series) as well as Tsukihi saying, in response to a bad impersonation by her brother, that her voice sounds more like Yuka Iguchi.

As for the main plot, we’ve seen the prologue to it in Tsubasa Cat. Hanekawa was hit by her step-step-father – and the narrative makes it clear he really belted her, to the point where she hit the opposite wall – and subsequently, along with Araragi, buried a dead cat lying by the road. This ends up getting her possessed by an Afflicting Cat, which goes about “relieving her stress” by beating her parents nearly to death, cutting off Araragi’s arm, and going on a spree of draining energy from the town’s residents. The gimmick here is that in reality, it’s Hanekawa who is more of an aberration than the Afflicting Cat ever was, and the synthesis of the two of them has made her so powerful that even Meme Oshino (still around, this being a flashback volume) gets the crap beaten out of him. This is interesting as a look into Hanekawa’s broken psyche, though I found it less appealing when Oshino tries to excuse her abusive parents by saying she’s essentially asking for it. And Araragi’s solution, as one might expect, is overly violent and lethal to him, and doesn’t really achieve anything whatsoever except a temporary fix. But at least, in the end, he’s able to realize that repressing his love for Hanekawa is the right thing to do for both of them. Because trust me, he’s lying like a rug about not loving her. At least at this point in the series.

This is the end of the “first series” of Monogatari, and the next few books have a few minor but significant changes. The most obvious being the narrative voice. Next time we’ll see the White side of Nekomonogatari, which resolves Hanekawa’s story with her own first-person narration, and is also the first “Araragi-lite” book. Till then, enjoy the Black side, which is not only Araragi-heavy, but a heavy book in general. It’s depressing to see how screwed up everyone in it is. Honestly, Senjogahara will end up being the most well-adjusted of the cast once she comes along.

UQ Holder!, Vol. 12

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By Ken Akamatsu. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Bessatsu Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Alethea and Athena Nibley.

It’s sometimes amusing to look at my old reviews and see what’s been answered (or not) since then. Last time I did a full review of UQ Holder! was a year and a half ago, and I found myself wondering if the series was ever going to decide whether it was a true sequel to Mahou Sensei Negima! or not. Well, we now know the answer to that, and it’s 100% yes, as there is no longer any real attempt to keep new readers who may not have read the older series. The cover alone is a dead giveaway, as 3 of the 4 characters on it are famous stars of the old series… though it remains up in the air as to whether this is the “real” Negi, Nodoka and Yue or merely dark clones/copies/evil versions. The last two chapters of this volume are riveting, and promise to answer the open ending that annoyed so many Negima fans. Unfortunately, before that we have the previous 8 chapters.

I’ve been reading Negima for years (and Love Hina, for that matter), which means that not only am I invested in seeing how it turns out, I should be used to the sheer amount of female nudity that pervades almost every volume. This is something Ken Akamatsu has been doing for over 20 years, and while he’s switched from ‘ecchi comedy with lots of nudity’ to ‘action manga with lots of nudity’, the core does not change. And yet it’s getting harder to justify in these days of Roy Moore allegedly cruising malls for young girls, when even the main text of UQ Holder has the announcer of the beach motorcycle race that takes up most of the volume discuss the fact that the three main girls being stripped are all twelve years old. A major reason that fans, particularly in Japan, read Love Hina, Negima, and UQ Holder is to look at naked underage manga girls. And it’s really creepy. Most of the nudity here is presented as ‘nostalgic’, using similar magic (and sneezes) from its parent series, as if to say that it’s all just a callback. Ergh.

Moving back to Negima, the bits of this volume that aren’t underage nudity are Negima callbacks. It’s explicit in the last two chapters, when “Negi” and several of our old friends show up as sort of an evil sentai team, but even the rest of the series has decided to let its Negima flag fly. Kirie is more of a Chisame expy than ever before, and the race also features Ayaka’s granddaughter and a girl who is not only a dead ringer for Shinobu from Love Hina but also NAMED Shinobu. Oh yes, and there’s also Konoka and Setsuna’s identical-looking granddaughters, though as ever “my grandmoms were hella gay” is never going to be explicitly spelled out in this series. The cliffhanger also promises that we’re going to get an extended flashback, which presumably will wrap up Negima’s 800 loose ends. It is nice to see Asuna again.

So in the end this is the definition of “only buy this if you’re a true fan”. Between the fact that it’s incomprehensible to anyone who hasn’t read 38 Negima volumes, you also need to accept Akamatsu’s fanservice, or at least avert your eyes. Which is what I do, and I acknowledge my massive hypocrisy. Only for the hardcore.

Durarara!!, Vol. 8

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By Ryohgo Narita and Suzuhito Yasuda. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Stephen Paul.

At the start of the Baccano! anime, Carol is sorting through the various events and people that she and her boss are reporting on, and is asked who she thinks “the main character” is. She responds by picking Firo, saying he looks “Main character-ish”. The -ish being intentional. And so it is with Durarara!!, a series that may be beloved by its fandom for the hot sexual tension between Izaya and Shizuo (something pretty much absent from the actual novels), and whose ‘iconic’ character is probably Celty. That said, if I was to say who I thought the ‘main characters’ of the series were, it would be the trio of Mikado, Anri and Masaomi and their tortured relationship with each other. They’ve been separated for several books now, and give every appearance of reuniting in this book. But, while I think they’re being idiots in avoiding it, I do agree now is not the time, if only as I want to see more of the author making Mikado a semi-villain.

The Dollars have been Mikado’s pride and obsession with Book 1, and here we see him take the philosophy of “By Any Means Necessary” to heart, using the Blue Squares to viciously purge from the ranks of the “gang” any muggers or other lowlifes. Theoretically, he’s being manipulated by Aoba, but honestly, Aoba just seems to be sitting back and staring at Mikado more than anything else, as the boy is clearly descending into a sort of madness. Anri is worried sick, but unfortunately Celty regards Mikado’s secrets as more important and decides not to tell her what’s going on. (Celty is probably correct, to be fair.) Speaking of Anri, it was amazing to me to see the short scenes from Mika’s perspective this volume, especially following after the insanity-fest from last time. Here she shows genuine concern and worry for Anri, and it’s pointed out that Seiji is not everything to her, but merely the highest thing on her list. It almost feels like seeing canon change mid-page.

There are other things going on here, of course. Ruri Hirijibe returns, with her new boyfriend (Shizuo’s brother) trying to save her from a psychotic stalker. We see the stalker’s POV several times, and it once again reminds you how good Narita is at writing the truly cruel and hateful person. As for Ruri herself, it was interesting to me to see how much the book avoided using the word “vampire” unless it absolutely had to, and it’s still not clear how much of one Ruri is – though her grandmother seems to qualify. (An unlicensed Narita series, Vamp!, may be useful here, though as yet we can only speculate). And the message board explodes with new characters, as everyone seems to invite some new person to join in. So we see Saki (using her own name), Kid (Akabayashi, whose use of (lol) may be the funniest part of the book), and Chrome, whose identity is unsurprising but gives us a wonderful callback to previous books as we start the Hot Pot Party Of Evil!.

And then there’s Masaomi, who I left out of my talk earlier, who ran away from his problems 5 books ago and has returned to find they’ve gotten much worse. Can he really do anything to make amends and help his friends? In the meantime, this is another ‘setup for future books’ volume, meaning it’s low on action but still worth a read.

One Piece, Vol. 84

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By Eiichiro Oda. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by Stephen Paul.

I’ve talked before about the pacing of One Piece vs. many of the other Jump titles we’ve seen over the years. One Piece packs so much into each chapter it’s as if these 84 volumes have really been 168. Bleach, on the other hand, could probably come in under 50 if you sped things up to a normal scale. It’s also one reason why I feel the need to give each new volume a full review rather than a Bookshelf Brief. Even when a volume is mostly a bunch of fights, even when it’s mired in an arc I thought went on too long like Dressrora, even when Oda is doing things I’m not a fan of… it’s still one of the best shonen manga out there, and there’s still a lot to talk about. Let’s start with Sanji, as this is in many ways his arc.

I’ve possibly mentioned before that while I love all the Straw Hats, I love Sanji perhaps the least most. This has always made me feel a bit guilty, and therefore I am pleased as punch that we get this volume, showing off his best qualities, revealing more of his horrific childhood, and keeping his bonkers libido in check, even when he’s around a hot girl who’s ready to be his wife. It’s never easy being the unfavorite son, and of all the family it’s no surprise that I’m most interested in Reiju, who actually has empathy but goes along with her family’s wishes anyway. She seems the sort who will either change her loyalties later on or get killed. It’s also interesting to see the Vinsmokes appear to be genetically engineered superhumans, and that Sanji, who has merely normal abilities (for One Piece), is seen as a failure. (I was less pleased with Sanji’s brief “don’t hit women” flashback, which seemed tacked on – I suspect too many fans wanted to know why.)

Sanji is also determined to make sure the rest of the Straw Hats aren’t wiped out by Big Mom, enough to break things off with Luffy. He should know better than anyone that this won’t work, and all it gets him is Nami belting him across the chops. That said, in more important revelations, we see Luffy so full it’s hard for him to eat, something I didn’t think possible, and it actually takes his rubber body a while to slim back down. I’d assumed that he and Nami might have an in to the wedding due to Lola’s vivre card – sadly, a) Lola is persona non grata with Big Mom right now, and b) everyone thinks Nami killed Lola to get it, which is what they would have done. So they end up captured, though that doesn’t last long – I do wonder what’s going on with Charlotte Pudding, who seems far too good to be true.

And there’s also Chopper and Carrot’s mirror adventures, which are mostly comedy, and the revelations about Pedro. As I said, there’s just a LOT going on in each volume of One Piece, and most of them also make you want to go back and check previous volumes to find the hints Oda put in them eight years prior. Even after all these years, this should still be on everyone’s reading list.

Invaders of the Rokujouma!?, Vol. 7.5: The Silver Princess and the Blue Knight, Part One

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

The first of a two-part side story devoted to Koutarou and Clan’s adventures during the climax of Book Seven, Rokujouma 7.5 is solid but does suffer from the fact that throughout the book, the reader knows far more about what’s going on than the main characters. From the moment that Koutarou, dressed in his Blue Knight armor, rescued the princess it was clear that he was going to be making history rather than changing it, adnd that he was the Blue Knight. But Clan doesn’t see it that way (understandably, perhaps, as this is such a touchstone) and they spend a frustrating amount of time searching for the “real” Blue Knight. Of course, another major goal of this book is to get us to like Clan, who I suspect may end up part of the harem; she’s still not as likeable as the rest of the cast, but she’s getting there.

There’s a bit less humor in this volume than prior ones, mostly due to the main plotline, but there are moments that made me smile. The princess’ female companions on her journey all seem to remind Koutarou of his companions from the future… and they tend to act like said companions as well, with Charl, Alaia’s younger sister, behaving exactly as you’d expect a younger Theia to do. As for the Yurika analogue… I don’t want to spoil, but it may be the best joke in the book (unless it’s the food torture, which also involves the Yurika analogue). Koutarou and Clan discuss how much of this is just coincidence. The Rokujouma reader knows that not all of it is, and that Harumi certainly seems to be Alaia’s reincarnation, but it’s not clear how much this applies to the others.

The main plot is more serious, with the Kingdom already being ruled by the enemy Grand Viziers (so to speak) and Alaia fleeing for her life through the countryside. This serves to show off what a good Princess she is, as well as show the brutality of those currently in power – she actually debates just giving in and letting them rule if it means the people are safe and happy, but it rapidly becomes clear that no, the people are sacrifices they will use to destroy Alaia. And of course you see Koutarou and Alaia growing closer, but as the play says (Koutarou is trying to do things as the play laid out, but it didn’t cover everything). Their flirting is top notch, and while time and distance are likely going to ensure they can’t be together, I suspect Harumi will get more and more of Alaia’s memories as time goes on.

So this isn’t the best Rokujouma out there, but it’s decent, and reads very quickly. Fans who haven’t already read all 20-odd volumes should pick it up. Next time we’ll be back in the present for Book 8, but after that 8.5 should conclude this side story.

Manga in Theory and Practice: The Craft of Creating Manga

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Part manifesto, part how-to manual, Hirohiko Araki’s Manga in Theory and Practice: The Craft of Creating Manga is as idiosyncratic as the series that made him a household name in Japan. Araki characterizes his book as both a map, guiding the aspiring artist along the “golden way” of manga, and a tool kit for developing one’s storytelling chops. “If you were to go hiking on an unfamiliar mountain, you’d bring a map, right?” he states. “If you also have with you a foundation of mountaineering skill, you could wander onto side paths and discover unexpected scenery, and if you were to come across any dangers, you could find your way around them and still reach the summit” (12-13).

Araki’s own map to the summit was Hitchcock/Truffaut. First published in 1967, the book traced Hitchcock’s journey from title boy at Paramount’s Famous Players to director of Rear Window, analyzed Hitchcock’s signature techniques, and considered Hitchcock’s contributions to the development of film. It’s not hard to imagine why Truffaut and Hitchcock’s words beguiled Araki; they provided Araki practical tips for creating memorable characters and surprising plot twists while reassuring him that a popular medium like film or comics could, in fact, be a high art form.

That fancy pedigree helps explain what differentiates Manga in Theory and Practice from hundreds of other books aimed at the manga novice. Instead of tutorials on choosing pen nibs or drawing “manga” eyes, Araki offers a chatty, first-person treatise on writing a hit series, explaining the techniques he uses to sustain to a long-form story with examples from his favorite movies, manga, and novels. Araki also uses his own manga to illustrate how his ideas work in practice, narrating scenes from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Poker Under Arms, and Cool Shock B.T. By choosing material from every stage of his career, he allows the reader to appreciate just how much his own style has evolved through years of study, practice, and editorial critique — a valuable example for any aspiring manga artist.

The book’s core chapters — “Designing Characters,” “How to Write a Story,” “Art Expresses Everything,” “What Setting Is to Manga,” and “All Elements Connect to the Theme” — outline Araki’s process for creating characters and settings, offering sound advice about which genres are best suited to serialization. Though Araki’s techniques are highly individual, the thoroughness with which he approaches world building is a useful model for less experienced writers. Araki even includes a detailed chart for capturing “sixty facts for fleshing out your characters,” from the obvious — age, gender, size — to the mundane — handedness, favorite brands.

Another recurring theme of Manga in Theory and Practice is that art is a means to an end, not an end in itself. “What your readers will see is the artwork,” Araki observes, “but behind those drawings exist the interconnected elements of character, story, setting, and theme” (41). To illustrate this point, Araki devotes several pages to explaining the difference between signification and realism, suggesting when one technique is more effective than the other. Using Jiro Taniguchi’s Solitary Gourmet (Kodoku no Gourmet) as an example, Araki notes that the hero “is drawn as an everyday salaryman, but the food is drawn with complete realism.” By drawing Goro in less detail than the food, Araki argues, Taniguchi directs the reader’s eye to the presentation, texture, and ingredients of every dish, rather than Goro’s reaction to the meal — a subtle but effective way to highlight the uniqueness of each restaurant Goro visits (45).

Araki returns to this idea later in the book, noting that the artist’s credibility lies, in part, with his ability to convince the reader that the story is taking place in a real world where characters walk, drive, text, cook, shop, and go to school. Under the provocative heading “How to Draw Guns,” Araki explains that hands-on experience with “machinery and tools” is essential to creating a realistic setting. “If you are drawing a motorcycle or bicycle, and you don’t understand how the wheels are attached or where the handlebars are placed, the result will be unsuitable for riding upon, and your setting will become incoherent,” he notes (131-32).

As pragmatic as Araki’s advice is, the book sometimes sags under the weight of Araki’s pedantic tone; it’s a little like reading a how-to book written by Polonius or your pompous Uncle Frank. In a section titled “The Difference Between Drawing Men and Women,” for example, Araki counsels the aspiring manga-ka that “nowadays, both men and women can become heroes.” And if that advice seems self-evident, what follows is even less useful. “If anything sets apart male and female characters, it’s only visual,” he elaborates. The decision to include female characters “is purely a matter of your own taste,” he continues, “as long as your characters are appealing, you could get away with a world of all men” (58-59). Small wonder so many male comic artists have no idea how to write female characters.

More amusing is a passage in which Araki castigates Francis Ford Coppola for extending the storyline of The Godfather beyond Michael Corleone’s promotion to family don. As Araki sees it, the plot developments that follow Michael’s ascent — Fredo’s betrayal, his divorce from Kay — violate Araki’s dictum that “protagonists are always rising.” “In the sequels,” Araki opines, “Michael is beset by troubles and family betrayals in a series of realistic scenes that are brilliantly rendered, but from the point of view of the audience, are unwanted and depressing” (100). Araki does praise Coppola’s commitment to this dreary vision of mob life, but it’s hard to escape the idea that Araki is dissing Coppola for the The Godfather II‘s downbeat ending.

And while I’m tickled by Araki’s assessment of The Godfather II, these odd digressions are part of Manga in Theory and Practice‘s charm. It’s one of the few how-to manuals that seems to have been written by a flesh-and-blood person working in the industry, rather than a manga illustration bot. More importantly, Manga in Theory and Practice is a valuable reference work, filling a niche that most manga manuals ignore: how to unify images and words into a dynamic story. Recommended.

VIZ Media provided a review copy.

Works Cited

Araki, Hirohito. Manga in Theory and Practice: The Craft of Creating Manga, translated by Nathan A. Collins, VIZ Media, 2017.

Clockwork Planet, Vol. 2

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By Yuu Kamiya, Tsubaki Himana, and Sino. Released in Japan by Kodansha. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by fofi.

The first volume of Clockwork Planet felt very faithful to its genre. We’re introduced to the weirdo hero, identifiable to the core readers mostly due to his robot fetish, and much of the book is through his eyes. As such, Marie seemed to be the typical shonen heroine – romance aside, she was constantly yelling and hitting the hero while also secretly being impressed by him, which is the standard operating procedure for this type of heroine. So I was rather surprised in this second volume to see Marie get the bulk of the audience sympathy and POV. It doesn’t exactly shift to her – she did get a lot of attention in the first book as well. It’s just Naoto seems to be moving further away from us as the series goes on. This is lampshaded towards the end of the book, when it’s hinted he’s actually a reincarnation of something much bigger. Even his perversion seems more… messianic.

The plot of Book 2 is pretty much ‘deal with the fallout from Book 1’, as our heroes travel to the next clockwork town over only to find it disturbingly empty save for a horrible monster death machine deep in the basement. They also see AnchoR, who is the younger sister robot girl to our vicious robot heroine RyuZU, and is unfortunately being brainwashed at the moment, so that will have to be dealt with. (Actually, it’s dealt with pretty quickly and easily – for once, this sort of light novel sequence does buildup better than fight scenes.) Along the way we see how much of this is just the government trying to keep itself in power (a lot). I actually like how this is handled, with Marie being the one unable to immediately figure out everything right away. This is not because she’s stupid (as RyuZU implies) or oblivious to anything but robots (as Naoto is), it’s because she is a big shining ball of idealism who tries to pass herself off as a complete cynic, and has trouble imagining people being truly evil.

This is still written by Yuu Kamiya, author of No Game No Life, and as such you’re going to get a lot of tasteless service here as well. Mostly this is pointless or annoying (AnchoR seems to be a “little sister lolicon” robot purely for those reasons), but occasionally he hits a home run, such as the content of the secret “coded” message for Marie, which was so appallingly explicit I laughed out loud. I’m not certain what the original Japanese was, but you won’t see language like that in Sword Art Online, even if you did paste Chapter 16.5 into your book. And aside from Naoto, who remains mostly static because he’s becoming messianic, there was good character development here. It’s also impressive that I like Marie so much given how much of the book shows her yelling, screaming, or kicking people in the head. There are many times I wanted to do the same thing to everyone she was dealing with.

Clockwork Planet is not terrific, but I do have a lot of fun reading it, particularly Marie. It will be interesting to see if the series, like Marie, can keep going without looking the idealism that it seems to have. Honestly, judging from the cliffhanger, things aren’t looking good.

SP Baby, Vol. 1

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SP Baby Volume 1 by Maki Enjoji

I’m a pretty big fan of Enjoji’s series Happy Marriage so I was excited when it was announced that Shojo Beat would be bringing out another series of hers. While Happy Marriage has an undercurrent of tension (spoiler alert! no one is getting married yet), the first volume of SP Baby is more of a comedic workplace romance.

Tamaki Hasegawa is struggling to find a full-time job. She needs to better support both herself and her little brother who is about to enter college. She has an ordinary life where one of the highlights is her helpless pining for her long-time friend Natsu who works in a flower shop. One day she sees one man chasing another on the street and jumps in to help by attempting a kick to the head of the threatening man. He promptly catches her ankle, leaving her at a loss on what to do next. After it becomes clear that the two men in question know each other, Tamaki apologizes for interrupting a lover’s quarrel and runs away. Her adventures are not over because the next day she’s shoved into a car carrying Kagetora Sugou, the man who she attempted to defend. He gives her a suit with a short skirt and announces that he’s going to interview her for the full-time job of being his bodyguard.

Kagetora is a nice contrast from Ryu in Everyone’s Getting Married. Kagetora is of course rich, but there’s an odd open-hearted innocence in his mannerisms and actions, like when he gives the people he works with nicknames that are usually reserved for cats. He alludes to having met Tamaki in the past, which is something that she has no memory of. Tamaki embarks on her new job, which necessitates dealing with some intense training in martial arts as well as finally getting her driver’s license. While it is obvious that her new boss is romantically interested in her, Tamaki keeps reminding herself of her so far one-sided affection for Natsu.

Enjoji’s art is always solid, and she easily captures the extreme emotions that Tamaki deals with as she ends up on an impromptu date with Kagetora or gives in to her lighting-fast violent reflexes. By the end of SP Baby, I was rooting for this very odd couple and wanting to see more of this story unfold. February is a long time to wait for the next volume! I recommend this title if you enjoy josei comedies with heroines who have a tendency to kick people in the head.

Sword Art Online Alternative: Gun Gale Online, Vol. 1

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By Keiichi Sigsawa, Kouhaku Kuroboshi, and Tadadi Tamori, based on the series created by Reki Kawahara. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks, serialized in the magazine Dengeki Maoh. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Stephen Paul.

The Sword Art Onlione franchise has done a lot of worldbuilding over the course of the series, detailing no less than four different games/VR environments. Some are more popular than others, but I think Gun Gale Online struck a cord with a lot of gamers, as usually these sorts of novels concentrate on sword-based fantasy RPGs – as indeed Sword Art Online did for its first four volumes. So the idea of combining that sort of immersion with a game filled with all sorts of guns, rifles, and lightsaber–sorry, beam swords was incredibly appealing. As for the publisher, I imagine having a spinoff series that did not have to be overseen by Kawahara as much as the others was a plus – the number of regular SAO cast in this first volume is zero. So if you want to read about Gun Gale Online but hate Kirito, have I got a series for you.

This manga is, like a lot of Sword Art Online, based off of a novel. Unfortunately, the novel has not been licensed here as of yet. It’s by Keiichi Sigsawa, who some may know as the creator of Kino’s Journey. Our heroine is Karen, an incredibly tall girl who went to a women’s college to try to change her self-conscious self, but found when she got there that most of the other students already knew each other, and she’s still huge, so she’s mostly a social outcast again. She decides to try to forget about it by playing a VRMMO… but every one she tries gives her another tall avatar. As a last resort, she tries Gun Gale Online, and finds that – finally – she’s short and cute. Now she and her pink gun (OK, Bambi) can have as much tiny fun as they want! (I am reminded of Log Horizon, where Akatsuki originally played as a huge male assassin because “games allow you to be something you’re not”.

We see Llenn (her screen name) gradually getting used to the game with the help of another player, Pitohui, who is the very definition of “obviously evil”, not that this seems to register with Llenn. As she gets a gun and starts to go after other players, she begins to have a lot of fun – botjh because her small form is very good at this sort of thing and also because, well, it’s a game, and in a game, killing others can be fun. That said, this is SAO, so we know those sorts of feelings are always dangerous, especially when helped along by Pitohui, who seems to be trying to make Llenn into a tiny little killing machine. (There is a very disturbing scene in reality midway through the book, showing a young woman (I really hope it’s a young woman, she looks far too young) on top of a guy, sexing him up while also threatening him regarding the upcoming GGO match. It’s heavily suggested this is Pitohui in real life, and does not bode well for our heroine. It also feels oddly out of place.)

The rest of the book is gun battle fun, as Llenn gets a partner who seems taciturn and scary at first but eventually shows he’s a nice enough guy. Are they good enough to win a tournament even though there’s only two of them? Even if their opponents look to literally be JSDF? What is Pitohui scheming? And can we really get through an SAO spinoff without Kirito showing up at all? Find out in the next thrilling volume!

Astra Lost in Space, Vol. 1

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While the US manga market has plenty to offer teen readers, there’s a dearth of titles for kids who have aged out of Yokai Watch but aren’t quite ready for Bleach or Soul Eater. Astra Lost in Space, a new addition to the VIZ catalog, is a perfect transitional title for ten, eleven, and twelve-year-olds who want to read “real” manga: its slick illustrations and adventure-driven plot feel just edgy enough for this group, while the content falls safely within the boundaries of what’s appropriate for the middle school crowd.

The plot of Astra Lost in Space may remind older fans of Moto Hagio’s sci-fi classic “They Were Eleven”: nine high school students find themselves stranded aboard a spaceship whose communication system has been disabled. With only a few days’ supply of water and food on board, the group is forced to improvise a plan for making the five-month journey home. Their solution: hopscotching between planets — let’s call them “Class M” for the sake of convenience — where an abundant supply of water, plants, and animals await harvesting.

As you might guess, the planet-of-the-week formula provides artist Kenta Shinohara (Sket Dance) ample opportunity to draw menacing fauna and flora, and stage imaginative action sequences. In the volume’s best scene, for example, team captain Kanata Hoshijima leap-frogs across a field of sky-high lily pads to rescue the group’s youngest member from a flying, six-legged monster. Shinohara lavishes more attention to detail on Kanata’s long jump technique than on the turgon itself, breaking down each of Kanata’s jumps into discrete steps recognizable to any track-and-field fan: the approach, the takeoff, the hang, and the landing. In a further nod to realism, Shinohara shows us the physical toll that each jump exacts from Kanata; we can practically hear Kanata’s heaving breaths as he readies himself for the next one, an effective gambit for casting doubt on Kanata’s ability to reach Funicia.

For all the skill with which this rescue is staged, Shinohara can’t disguise the fact his characters feel like they’re the products of a Shonen Jump reader’s poll, rather than original creations. Kanata, for example, is a walking, talking checklist of shonen hero traits: he’s strong, friendly, over-confident, and burdened with a tragic backstory that gives him the will to persevere in any situation, no matter how dire. He also happens to be a decathlete, a fact that’s revealed as he rescues Funicia from the turgon’s grip. (At least that explains his javelin-throwing skills.) The other characters are less developed than Kanata, but will seem familiar to anyone who’s read three or four Shonen Jump titles: there’s Quittierre, a pretty rich girl whose tantrums conceal a good heart; Aries, a cute spaz who makes Edith Bunker look like a genius; Zack, a calm, smart boy who speaks in complete paragraphs; Charce, a boy who’s so handsome he sparkles; and a handful of less-defined characters who — according to the Third Law of Manga Plot Dynamics — will either be monster fodder or directly responsible for their classmates’ terrible predicament.

Manga novitiates, however, will be less troubled by these nods to convention, thanks to the story’s brisk pacing, smart-looking layouts, and game attempts at humor. Though there’s a mild bit of fanservice and “fantasy violence” (VIZ’s term, not mine), parents, teachers, and librarians should feel comfortable allowing middle school students to read Astra.

N.B. The first 45 chapters are currently available through the VIZ website for anyone wishing to screen the story for younger readers. Volume one of Astra is also available in a Kindle edition, and will be available in a print edition that’s slated for a December 5th release.

ASTRA LOST IN SPACE, VOL. 1 • STORY AND ART BY KENTO SHINOHARA • TRANSLATED BY ADRIENNE BECK • VIZ • 204 pp. • RATED T for TEEN

Paying to Win in a VRMMO, Vol. 5

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By Blitz Kiva and Kuwashima Rein. Released in Japan as “VRMMO wo Kane no Chikara de Musou suru” by Hobby Japan. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Elizabeth Ellis.

This is more of an ensemble effort than any of the previous books. Pay2Win has added quite the large cast over the course of the series, and most of them are present and correct trying to take down whoever has stolen Ichiro’s account. (The mystery as to who has done this, by the way, is almost nil – it’s very obvious. That said, the mystery isn’t the point.) Everyone does what they do best – The Kirihitters try to look cool and fail miserably, Amesho gets her fanboys to valiantly sacrifice themselves hoping she’ll look their way, and Iris’ sharp tongue ends up being weaponized, as (to her chagrin) it’s generally agreed that her spiteful words are her defining trait. That said, the bulk of the characterization here goes to Sakurako/Kirschwasser, who is allowed to use “any means necessary” to defeat the fake, and Sera, who’s gender is finally made clear and who shows they are probably the savviest character in the series.

For all that the last Afterword mentioned that the publishers were uncomfortable with giving too much attention to Sakurako (she being explicitly over 25 and therefore “not a heroine”), but she does get quite a bit to do here. That said, most of it is comic relief. I’ve said before how I think Pay2Win works best when it’s funny, and that still applies, as Sakurako’s sudden access to unlimited amounts of money (and approval to use it from her boss) sets her on a slippery slope that ends up almost being a metaphor for addiction. It’s something that’s understandable for almost anyone who’s played a game – even I, casual that I am, know the terror of “just buy 3 hammers for $1.99 to get past that stupid Candy Crush level”. Here, of course, it’s taken up to 11, as you’d expect, and the fallout is hilarious and also painful – you feel sort of bad for her.

Then there’s Sera/King Kirihito, explicitly said to be female here. The afterword has a very interesting reveal, which is that in the webnovel version of VRMMO, Sera was male. I wonder if this too was changed at editorial request, though the author also says an audience vote was part of it. That said, there are a few lines in this book which suggest Sera sees themself as non-binary, and that suits me fine, so let’s go with that. Sera’s brilliancy at games extends to other arenas here, and I raised an eyebrow seeing them keep up with the American technobabble going on despite the fact that Sera speaks Japanese. Sera also understand the ways of the heart a bit better than Asuha does.

There’s only one volume of this series left, and it seems about the right place to end it. We need to see what’s going to happen with the suddenly doomed little startup that NaroFan is part of, and also hopefully resolve Iris’ design issues a bit, though the answer to that may be “sometimes things just don’t work out”. In any case, this continues to be a series that won’t wow anyone, but should make them smile. Also, Ichiro is perhaps at his least irritating in this book!

I Hear the Sunspot

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I Hear the Sunspot by Yuki Fumino

I Hear the Sunspot was a delightful surprise, and not a title that I expected to see One Peace Books license. For those of you who have been wishing for some slice of life character-driven shounen-ai manga, this title will easily fulfill your manga cravings.

I Hear the Sunspot traces the developing friendship between a couple of college students. Kohei, a student with hearing difficulties who keeps himself isolated from his classmates. Taichi is an outspoken semi-slacker who finds it difficult to keep a full-time job. Taichi is also perpetually hungry. After accidentally stumbling on one of Kohei’s hiding spots, Taichi finds himself gifted with Kohei’s lunch after staring at it with hungry eyes. The entire exchange is wordless on Kohei’s part and Taichi checks up on him with other students afterwards, finding out that Kohei needs volunteer note takers in order to support his studies.

One of the things I liked so much about this series was Fumino’s art. She has a great facility with facial expressions, where Taichi’s open, smiling mannerisms contrast with Kohei’s carefully cultivated almost expressionless looks as he is repeatedly confronted by someone who isn’t going to take “No” for an answer in his attempts at friendship. Taichi turns out to be a less than stellar note taker due to his habits of falling asleep or zoning out in class, but Kohei pays him for his efforts by bringing him extraordinarily delicious lunches. Kohei gradually begins to open up more thanks to Taichi’s efforts to include him in regular school activities, and the slice of life school stories mixed with small scenes showing the depth of this new friendship made I Hear the Sunspot a pleasure to read.

One of my favorite moments in the book was when Taichi finds himself in conversation with a girl who asks about Kohei in a really intrusive way, clearly indicating that she is invested in the idea of herself acting benevolent to a person with a disability. Taichi gets angry, and his reaction is just on the edge of being a little too upset, to the point where I started to wonder if he was romantically jealous in addition to wanting to protect his new friend. Character driven moments like this are why I Hear the Sunspot is now one of my favorite manga of the past year. I’m happy to hear that One Peace Books is also picking up at least one of the sequel volumes, and I’m so curious to find out what happens next in this slowly developing romance.