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A Bride’s Story, Vol. 9

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

Pariya gets a second cover in a row, which makes perfect sense because this book is still all about her attempts to recover from the fire that devastated her dowry, try to get closer to her possible fiance, and make readers think of her as someone other than “the tsundere somehow trapped in the nineteenth century. That she succeeds admirably is a tribute to Kaoru Mori’s writing, which continues to be excellent. In particular, Mori has a talent for wedding her story and art in a way that few manga artists these days do, something that is especially gratifying given that Pariya’s specialty is that her emotions are showing all over her face. Which makes it even more amusing that everyone seems to be misreading her, particularly Umar, her intended.

The dowry continues to be the big issue. The devastating fire from last volume really sent Pariya back to square one, which is very concerning for her family because, well, Pariya is seen as someone not all that easy to marry off. She’s loud, she’s abrasive, and she seems to spend her days in a state of perpetual rage. The well-seasoned manga reader, of course, knows that the anger is to hide her shyness and embarrassment, but I like the fact that most of the village does NOT get this immediately, not even Umar, and Pariya really has to work hard to make herself clear. There’s no revelatory moment where people work out “this is how she is”, just a series of chapters that show Pariya gritting her teeth and watching others to see if she can work out what this strange Earth concept called conversation is. A good chunk of the volume has her and Umar go on a day journey to get supplies, which ends up getting extended when they stop to help an ill woman, then suffer a broken axle. But it also helps Umar see how awesome Pariya can really be.

The rest of the cast get something to do, though obviously except for Amir and Karluk it’s a very brief something to do. There’s a series of 4-koma at the start that check in on the rest of the cast we’ve seen to date, who are mostly getting on well, aside from Mr. Smith, who’s having bandit trouble, and the girl who he had a brief liaison with, who is still alone. As for Amir, her perfection has a tendency to become her character at times (I had trouble warming up to her), but we see a few flaws here, as she makes a bow so that her husband can learn archery, but makes it for the strength of a full-grown male, not the young boy that he still is. Karluk, of course, is determined to get the arm strength to learn it anyway. These two are cute, and I’m OK with having them be the return point for the series in general.

We apparently kick off a new arc next time, which will no doubt be next year, as A Bride’s Story does not come out all that frequently. When it does, though, the reader is always in for a treat. Curl up in a comfy chair and immerse yourself in this volume.

Vinland Saga, Vol. 9

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Vinland Saga, Omnibus 9Creator: Makoto Yukimura
Translator: Stephen Paul
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632364456
Released: June 2017
Original release: 2016
Awards: Japan Media Arts Award, Kodansha Manga Award

Having read and greatly enjoyed Makoto Yukimura’s near-future science fiction series Planetes, I was very curious to see how he would apply his character-driven approach to Vinland Saga, a manga with a historical setting. The resulting work is phenomenal–in addition to earning multiple awards, including a Japan Media Arts Award and a Kodansha Manga Award, Vinland Saga quickly became and remains one of my favorite manga series currently being released in English. The ninth hardcover omnibus of Vinland Saga was published in 2017 by Kodansha Comics with a translation by Stephen Paul. It collects the seventeenth and eighteenth volumes of the original Japanese series, both of which were released in 2016, in addition to the continuation of “Ask Yukimura,” a section of questions and answers providing further insight into the series and its creation which is exclusive to the English-language edition of Vinland Saga. “Ask Yukimura” was absent from the eighth omnibus, so I was very happy to see its return.

Hild, a skilled hunter, may have saved Thorfinn’s life as he and his companions were accosted by a man-eating bear, but now that she knows exactly who he is, she is determined to take that life from him. Thorfinn has killed countless people during his time employed as a mercenary in pursuit of his own revenge, drastically altering the lives of the victims’ surviving family members and loved ones. It’s a past that continues to haunt him and Hild isn’t the only person to have come to harm due to his actions or who he will have to confront once again. Thorfinn hopes to atone for the death, violence, and destruction he has helped to bring down upon others by establishing a new nation of peace away from the wars, conflict, and struggles for power that plague Europe. But it is a very difficult thing to try to put a stop to a cycle of systemic retribution condoned by society. Thorfinn has convinced others of the worthiness of his cause, but now he must convince Hild who has every right to want him dead.

Vinland Saga, Omnibus 9, page 191All-consuming revenge is one of the major themes of Vinland Saga. Yukimura explores how such a single-minded pursuit can dramatically change a person, impacting them on a deep, psychological level, and examines how that internalized violence is reflected in and perpetuated by the world at large. Much of Vinland Saga up until this point has been devoted to Thorfinn’s private struggles and growth as he has tried to come to terms with the irrevocable damage that he has wrought not only upon others but upon himself. With the introduction of Hild, Vinalnd Saga turns its focus outward, delving into the long-lasting and increasingly far-reaching effects of Thorfinn’s past misdeeds. Although this isn’t the first time that the series has shown this sort of tragedy, never before has it been made so cuttingly personal in the manga. Hild isn’t some nameless character met passing; Yukimura shows the entirety of Hild’s story–her life before her family was killed in front of her eyes and how she grew to become the fierce opponent who Thorfinn has no option but to face.

The parallels between Hild and Thorfinn’s individual quests for revenge are numerous although there are still significant differences and Thorfinn is much further along on his personal journey–while he’s chosen a path of peace, it remains to be seen what choices Hild will ultimately make fore herself. But even though Thorfinn is pursuing pacifism, he continues to be drawn into violent confrontations. A large part of why I find Vinland Saga such a tremendous series is due to the compelling character development that it exhibits, but another reason the manga is so incredibly engaging is the result of Yukimura’s spectacular action and fight sequences. They are exciting as well as meaningful, serving not only to move the plot along but frequently to provide an external expression of the characters’ internal struggles. How they fight and what they are willing to risk goes far to reveal who they truly are and what they value most. Vinland Saga continues to greatly impress me; I’m so glad that it’s being translated and look forward to future volumes with immense anticipation.

Strike the Blood, Vol. 7

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By Gakuto Mikumo and Manyako. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jeremiah Bourque.

Let the drums roll out and the trumpets call, strike up the band as well as the blood because I am here to tell you that this is easily the best Strike the Blood to date. It has finally moved above its decent but uninspiring attempts at makework writing and had me say, after finishing this book, “yeah, that was pretty decent”. And it should come as no surprise to find that the main reason for this, in my opinion, is because it doesn’t abide by the formula of the first six books. Oh, yes, the middle section may make an awkward attempt at it, and indeed the section in the classroom was my least favorite in the book. But overall we get backstory revelations, setup for future books, a reasonable amount of character development… it makes me cry that we haven’t bothered to have this before now, but I’ll take it.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to overhype this too much: this is rising to the level of ‘pretty good’, but that’s all it’s doing. I would not recommend reading through the previous six books to get to this point. That said, the first third of the book, which is a flashback to when Kojou and his sister meet the Fourth Primogenitor, is well-handled, and exists pretty much to tell us that what little we’d heard to date, including Kojou’s own memories, was pretty trustworthy. We also meet his father, who seems an Indiana Jones sort, and while he’s a pretty cool guy it’s not hard to see why he is divorced from Kojou’s mother. The last quarter or so of the book also does another “finally” and focuses on Yaze, who has occasionally helped out (and gotten beat up a lot) but whose thoughts we rarely get much beyond surface. He gets his own backstory here, and shows us he’s not merely someone who is Kojou’s friend because he has to be.

As I said earlier, I was annoyed at the wacky comedy in the classroom with Vattler’s minions, mostly as it once again felt cookie cutter, Strike the Blood’s worst fault – you have a feeling his editor had a line [INSERT COMEDY HERE] at the first pass. Once Natsuki passes out and the drama starts up again, though, it’s reasonably gripping and entertaining. Despite its lack of risk-taking, the series does fights well, and that’s true here too. The villain (if she is one) is a reasonably clever fake-out, which makes you wonder if the series is going to be turned completely on its ear. It’s not, but it does come with one big benefit – Asagi is present to see both Yukina and Kojou whip out their powers, and does not lose her memory, get knocked out, or otherwise forget afterwards. I’ve wanted her to find out the truth for 7 books now. Her reaction (as Yukina observes) is understated, but she explains why that makes sense. More to the point, setup for the next big arc hints that Asagi’s secrets are about to become big news. Will she learn about her own supernatural abilities?

This isn’t going to pick up any new readers, and old readers will be continuing the series anyway. But as for me, I’m just happy not to have to end a review with “well, yeah, it’s Strike the Blood, whatever”. This was solidly pretty good. 7 out of 10, maybe? Oh yes, and it gets bonus points for Kojou saying “this is my fight” at one point and Yukina not actually responding “No, sempai, this is OUR fight”, even if it feels like it’s only not there as the author forgot.

After Hours and My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness

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After Hours and My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness epitomize a small but growing trend in yuri manga licensing: both focus on women in their twenties exploring their sexuality, rather than depicting middle- or high-school aged girls crushing on each other.

After Hours is the more upbeat of the two, a sympathetic portrait of twenty-three-year-old Emi, a recent college graduate who’s just quit her job and is struggling to figure out what comes next. A chance encounter with Kei, a twenty-nine-year-old deejay, is a turning point in Emi’s young adult life: not only is she drawn to Kei’s confidence, she’s also intrigued by Kei’s passion for spinning records. As their connection deepens, Emi takes a more active role in supporting Kei’s career, joining Kei’s circle of friends and trying her hand at “veejaying,” selecting videos to complement Kei’s set lists.

One of the most striking aspects of After Hours is Yuhta Nishio’s sensitive depiction of Emi and Kei’s sexual encounters. He uses a handful of discrete signifiers — a pile of clothing on the floor, a tender embrace, a flirtatious post-coital chat — rather than explicit or provocative imagery. That’s a wise choice, I think, as it allows Nishio to portray Emi and Kei as grown women with healthy sexual urges without reducing them to sexualized objects. Nishio’s restrained approach also emphasizes the aspects of Emi and Kei’s bodily intimacy that foster a mutual sense of trust, familiarity, and affection — a dimension of sexual experience that’s often missing from straight romance manga.

Though the first chapters are largely uneventful, future volumes promise dramatic complications. Emi has yet to disclose her relationship to her friends or her not-quite-ex-boyfriend, with whom she’s still sharing an apartment. More interestingly, Emi hasn’t really thought about what it means to be in a relationship with another woman; she’s initially surprised by her attraction to Kei, but resists labeling those feelings as lesbian, bisexual, or queer, choosing instead to savor the sense of purpose and joy that being with Kei brings to her life. The ease with which Emi embraces her new love is a refreshing development, a quiet rebuttal of the idea that sexual orientation is absolute or easily defined.

By contrast, Nagata Kabi’s My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness is a more complex story, a confessional comic documenting the author’s sexual awakening in her late twenties. Nagata narrates her odyssey with candor, acknowledging the degree to which mental illness dictated her adult life. She describes the bodily ravages of disordered eating — she vacillated between anoxeria and bulimia — and the emotional toll of disordered thinking, noting the degree to which both depression and body dysmorphia prevented her from holding down a job, maintaining friendships, or thinking about herself as a sexual person. She also ruminates on her chilly relationship with her parents, and her profound sense of shame in disappointing them by not becoming a “real” adult with a conventional office job.

After hitting rock bottom, Nagata realizes the degree to which she’s suppressed her sexuality. In an effort to reassert control over her life, Nagata decides to hire a female escort for her first sexual experience. Nagata documents this encounter in an almost clinical fashion, contrasting her feverish anticipation with her stiff, detached response to being touched. For all of her progress towards mental health and self-acceptance, she realizes that she cannot yet surrender to the bodily sensations of desire — a tension that remains unresolved at the end of her narrative, even though Nagata’s final panels suggest her sense of relief and pride for taking such a bold step.

That Nagata’s journey is more inspiring than depressing is a testament to her writing skills (and, I might add, Jocelyne Allen’s artfully wry translation). Though Nagata never shies away from describing uncomfortable thoughts or self-destructive behavior, she finds moments of grace and humor in even the darkest situations, especially as she begins to contemplate what it means to be a sexual person. In three sharp, economical panels, for example, she explores her profound discomfort with binary gender labels, even as she begins to recognize her sexual attraction to women:

It feels churlish to criticize such a personal work, and yet I found myself wishing that Nagata’s art felt more essential to the story she was telling. Writing for The Comics Journal, critic Katie Skelly voiced similar concerns, arguing that Nagata’s tendency to mix big blocks of text with cute drawings keeps the reader at arm’s length when Nagata discloses intimate, sometimes disturbing, details of her eating disorders and self-mutilation. “Nagata can’t find a suitable bridge to mend the gap between the story of her experience and aesthetic,” Skelly notes. “[H]er style can read as generic and her tone never quite finds its mark.” I admit to feeling the same way about Nagata’s work: I admired her raw honesty, but felt that My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness could have been a book, a movie, or a Moth Radio Hour segment just as easily as a comic; nothing about the way Nagata related her experiences felt like it was uniquely suited to manga, as her drawings were more illustrative of what she felt than genuinely revelatory about why she felt such profound self-loathing.

For all the things that go unsaid in My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness, however, there’s much wisdom in Nagata’s story, especially for people struggling with what it means to be healthy, whole, and sexual. Nagata’s recovery is a testament to the human capacity for resilience, and her willingness to share her most vulnerable moments with strangers an act of genuine courage. Here’s hoping that she continues to document her journey of self-discovery.

VIZ Media provided a complimentary review copy of After Hours.

AFTER HOURS • STORY AND ART BY YUHTA NISHIO • TRANSLATION BY ABBY LEHRKE • 160 pp. • RATED TEEN+ (for older teens)

MY LESBIAN EXPERIENCE WITH LONELINESS • STORY AND ART BY NAGATA KABI • TRANSLATED BY JOCELYNE ALLEN • SEVEN SEAS • 152 pp. • RATED OT (for older teens)

Baccano!: 2001 The Children of Bottle

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By Ryohgo Narita and Katsumi Enami. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Taylor Engel.

This must have been quite startling to readers at the time, and it’s still pretty startling. The first four books in this series all took place around the same two year period, and there was no reason to expect anything else. Thus suddenly jumping forward to 2001 is jarring, even if you do know intellectually that a large number of the cast are Immortals. Furthermore, Isaac and Miria, bar a cameo at the start (which ended up being used in the anime) and the end, are absent from this book. But that’s OK, because we are introduced in this book to Elmer C. Albatross, a man with so much sheer force of personality that he tends to overwhelm the narrative when he’s in it. Having him interact with Isaac and Miria would be like eating something too sweet. Best to have moderation. That said, this is still an excellent volume of Baccano!.

The girl on the cover is Fil, and she is essentially the heart of this book. (To avoid too many spoilers, I will try not to refer to her as Fil and the Filtones.) The basic premise has Maiza and Czeslaw, who we’re familiar with from previous books, searching the world for the remaining immortals from the 1711 ship journey where they gained said immortality. The goal is to tell said immortals they can stop hiding, as Szilard is now dead. They pick up two more for this journey: Sylvie, a gorgeous women who was hell-bent on nothing but revenge on Szilard and has to figure out what to do now that someone else got there first; and Nile, a large North African man who has spent his immortality fighting in wars and wears a mask because his face no longer shows emotions when doing things like killing people. They are now all arriving at a tiny village in the middle of nowhere in Europe, where Maiza has been told he may find Elmer. He does find Elmer, but also finds what Elmer’s been doing for the last few years: trying to make everyone smile.

Elmer is one of the most awaited introductions for longtime Baccano! fans, and he doesn’t disappoint. As I said earlier, on the surface he might seem a bit like Isaac and Miria, but that’s just the surface. Elmer is a bit broken, and his quest for smiles at any cost, no matter how inappropriate the time, no matter if he’s talking about a killer, no matter if it involves selling everyone’s soul – it’s just disturbing when you dig down into it. He’s doing the right thing here, but it’s not really for the right reason, and yet in the end you can’t help but love Elmer, even as you find him vaguely disquieting – I suspect if I met him in real life he’d be unbearable. (I suspect that about a lot of Baccano! characters.) The rest of the cast also get stuff to do – Czes shows that years and years of physical, mental and emotional abuse can still affect you even almost a hundred years later, Sylvie gets to be sympathetic and sweet (mostly; she’s noticeably different when only around the other immortals), and Nile at first seems to be comic relief till an absolutely stunning speech that rips into a character’s desire to end their life with beautiful precision.

Speaking of Nile, let’s talk translation. Baccano! has a large fan community who translated many of the books before they were officially licensed. That hasn’t been an issue before this, as the first four books had fan translations ranging from adequate to awful. 2001, though, had a really good translation, so I was concerned fans would be wedded to that and object to anything different. That said, having finished the book, I think we’re good. The main concern is Nile’s way of speaking. He has a habit of prefacing his sentences with “Let me just say this:” and variations, which emphasizes his declamatory language and also shows a bit that he’s constantly asking permission to speak, something Maiza calls him out on. The fan translation had “I say this:” which is more literal but not as smooth. I think Taylor Engel does a very good job of making each character’s speech pattern distinct, which is important, as not everyone’s dialogue is as eccentric as Nile’s.

I haven’t talked much about the actual plot of the book, but that’s because it’s one of those books where I don’t want to give away the surprises too much. Suffice it to say I found it very enjoyable, and think you will as well. And if you’re annoyed that we don’t get more of Firo, or Isaac and Miria, or Jacuzzi and Nice, well, we’re back to the 1930s with the next five books.

Oh yes, and ‘Children of Bodom’ is the title reference, a Finnish metal band.

Beasts of Abigaile, Vol. 1

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Beasts of Abigaile Volume 1

I make no secret of the fact that I’m generally a shoujo enthusiast, and I also enjoy reverse harem manga. Though the plots may be thin, and the characters may never vary from their highly specific and formalized roles, I still find manga of the genre trashy fun to read, even if there might not be much depth to the stories. As I started reading Beasts of Abigaile I was struck with a strong sense of deja vu, because something about the aesthetics reminded me of some of the older series that were published by Go! Comi. Sure enough this is an Akita Shoten title, so maybe that’s why I felt a bit of pleasant nostalgia as I was reading Beasts of Abigaile.

The set up for the story in this volume is so fast-paced, I got the sense that the author wanted to rush through any logical explanations and world building, and just get to the gorgeous wolf boys. Nina is the predictably outspoken but likeable heroine of the story, and she finds herself on the mysterious country of Ruberia, which is famous for its beautiful roses. There is also a mysterious prison school where it turns out adolescent werewolves live! Nina is bitten and starts exhibiting some werewolf traits, and she’s promptly sent to Abigaile to live among her own kind, except she has to keep her human origins secret.

Nina has a headstrong tendency to stick up for the little guy with little regard for her own self-preservation and this causes her to have multiple run-ins with fellow students and school administrators. She falls in with a pack (literally, ha ha) of art kid werewolves instead of joining in with the popular kids or school rebels. As far as handsome werewolf boys, there’s Roy, the surly leader whose bite originally turned Nina wolfish, Giles the nice guy who appears to be under the thrall of the mean female student council president, and the list goes on and on. I suspect that Roy, Giles, and Nina will be the main triangle explored in the rest of the manga.

With lackluster art, this series would be much less enjoyable, but Aoki’s illustrations are expressive, and there’s a dark gothic vibe about the art that also make the title stand out a bit from the other shoujo series coming out currently. Nina’s continued refusal to allow herself to be intimidated by hulking wolf boys is entertaining. If you enjoy paranormal romance shoujo that doesn’t seem to take itself too seriously, Beasts of Abigaile seems like a promising series.

Nichijou, Vol. 10

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By Keiichi Arawi. Released in Japan by Kadokawa Shoten, serialized in the magazine Shonen Ace. Released in North America by Vertical Comics. Translated by Jenny McKeon.

I haven’t reviewed Nichijou in full since its first volume, it not being the sort of series that lends itself to deep discussion. This is the final volume, though, and I think that it’s worth looking at to see how far the series has come and how abstract it is now. The creator almost seems to be hiding it with the final cover, which features the cast in class paying attention stoically, but it’s meant to contrast with the first volume, which had a random deer on Yukko’s desk. The cast does still feature, and there is, believe it or not, character development of a sort, particularly in the ‘flashforward’ chapters, but for the most part Arawi has honed his surrealist art skills here, and knows what his audience wants: randomness and reaction shots from Mio. We get those in abundance in this volume.

Let’s look at that character development. Some of it can be seen at the start, where Mai and Yukko team up to prank Mio over and over again in a game of musical chairs. But then this is followed by a chapter, seemingly set moments later, which features Yukko rapping for pages on end and embarrassing her friends. Nichijou is not a title you want to read if you get frustrated by randomness – it never stays in one place too lo0ng, it’s quite happy to toss aside reality when it wants to, and in the ‘short panel collection’, sometimes the stories are only a panel or two long. The flashforwards, however, are a bit more developed. We saw one of them in the prior volume, showing a Professor who’s actually attending school, and Yukko apparently returning from America. Here we see more, as we have Mio as an actual manga artist, with an overworked assistant, begging for last-minute help from Mai, who now teaches preschool. This is mostly fascinating because of Mai, who has always been the quiet stoic “troll”. She’s still quiet here, but seeing her smiling and showing genuine emotions is both startling and heartwarming.

In the ads afterwords, Vertical mentions Helvetica Standard, the two-volume series coming out in the fall that’s connected to Nichijou (it’s the manga Yuna is reading all the time), but it’s apparently more of an artbook with occasional comics and diaries. The “successor” to Nichijou is Arawi’s current work City, which Vertical has also licensed. What these licenses tell me, besides the fact that Nichijou must have sold better than I expected, is that it’s Arawi’s art that seems to be the big pull. There are some startling frames in this volume, particularly in the aforementioned “Mio reaction shots”, where he really goes the extra mile in making things weird yet fascinating. In the end, Nichijou oddly reminds me of Short Cuts, the old manga series by Usamaru that Viz released back in the day. The characters are fascinating, and we like them, but in the end you tend to read Nichijou for the art and the really, really weird humor. It’s been an experience.

Accel World: The Carbide Wolf

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By Reki Kawahara and Hima. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jocelyne Allen.

After last volume’s short story collection, we’re back to the main plotline, as Silver Crow is (finally) cleared of the accusation of hosting the Chrome Disaster. Of course, now that they know he’s not evil, the leaders all get together to try to use Silver Crow for their own purposes. It’s a very Haruyuki-centric book as he tries to gain a new ability, learns his companion’s tragic backstory, prepares for the upcoming culture festival at school (yes, Accel World has a real life aspect as well), and worst of all, deals with getting utterly humiliated in a duel against a Level 1 who has super strength hard armor. This lets all his previous doubts and self-hatred come to the fore, though thankfully he has allies now who won’t let him slip too far into that. Essentially, it’s a good, solid volume of Accel World.

Kawahara does apologize in the afterword for Haruyuki getting all the character development so far in this series, and promises to work on developing the others soon. It’s a fair point – even Sword Art Online paid more attention to its other cast members than Accel World does at times. We do get to learn more about Utai here, and as a drama major, I appreciated the fact that she came from a family of Noh theatre performers – though that also meant that I could guess why she was so upset as a child, Japanese theatre being very male exclusive. The death of her brother is one of those freak accidents that sounds a bit more ridiculous than it probably was, but once you learn about him, the way he died, and the life she grew up with, almost everything about Ardor Maiden comes into clear focus. If this is the sort of character development we’ll get in the future, I’m looking forward to it.

And then we have the titular Carbide Wolf, aka Wolfram Cerberus. No, he’s not related to Wolfram and Hart from Angel, but he does seem to be related to Accel World’s big bads, the Accelerated Research Society. I enjoy the themes between personality and armor that Kawahara gives us – the name is wolf-themed, the armor has a wolf’s head… and the actual player sounds like a big friendly puppy when he’s dueling other people, or rather when he’d kicking other people’s asses. It’s hard to fight against something when you can’t do damage to it, and that also gives us the opportunity to dwell on various metals – this had also come up earlier, when Haruyuki was being asked to learn about mirrors in order to master a new ability. Haruyuki being who he is, of course, he grows and learns, with the help of some harsh training, and the rematch, though it ends in a cliffhanger, is another solid fight scene.

Accel World has always been the more consistently written of Kawahara’s two series, and that remains the case here. There’s occasionally some tortured exposition (the animal club member teaching Haruyuki about the different kinds of reflective mirrors really seemed like a reach to me), and Haruyuki’s self-deprecation can wear on the anime fan who wants all cool all the time, but overall this is another very good entry in the series.

Hayate the Combat Butler, Vol. 30

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By Kenjiro Hata. Released in Japan as “Hayate no Gotoku!” by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by John Werry.

This is the first volume of Hayate the Combat Butler to be released in North America after the manga has already ended in Japan, and it will be interesting to see how it does going forward. (ominous thunder rumbles in distance) We are, of course, nowhere near finished here in North America, where Hayate is not quite Kaze Hikaru, but pretty close. Last time we were discussing how long Hata would drag things out before Hayate’s true gender was finally revealed to Ruka, and we get an answer here. It’s actually a good question when you’re dealing with Hata, who is a master – for good and ill – at dragging things out long past when you’d expect the punchline or point to be. Sometimes this works well for comedic effect, sometimes it feels like his editors are forcing him to extend things forever, and sometimes you sense he’s a bit of a troll.

The missing suitcase of money is dealt with fairly quickly at the start (and does a good job of inserting Fumi and Sharna, everyone’s favorite characters (it’s a shame sarcasm is hard to show in text), into the narrative. The majority of the volume, though, continues the interlocking narrative of Nagi and Ruka’s doujinshi competition. Ruka gets the benefit of a stern critic in Hina, who not only gives her honest opinion about what’s wrong, but goes on to do research into popular kinds of manga so that she can give better advice. Hina is a good, honest girl who I sometimes feel deserves better than this comedy harem manga. Speaking of girls who deserve better than this, Nagi has Ayumu giving advice, and while it’s not nearly as good, it does seem to inspire her. Whether this will actually lead to good manga remains to be seen.

And yes, Ruka does eventually find out that Hayate is a guy. The reaction is more low-key than I was expecting, but then Ruka in general tends to be more low-key than I’d expect. As a late arrival harem girl, you can’t avoid the sense that she’s being added to the narrative because the series is too popular to wrap up this quickly – Hayate may be a twice-a-year series here, but it did really well in Japan, and there are references in the volume to the movie Heaven Is a Place on Earth, which was due out in 2011 when this volume came out. (Yes, we are now six years behind.) I like Ruka, but there’s not really much she adds as a romantic lead that Hayate could not also get from Hina, or Ayumu, or Maria, or Athena. Or Nagi, I will reluctantly add, but we’ll get to that 20 volumes down the road.

And so Hayate the Combat Butler’s strengths remain its humor, and its romance can be a strength or a weakness depending on Hata’s writing. We get a bit of both in this volume, making it a fairly average volume in the series. See you in the winter for Vol. 31.

Also, the back cover says that Ruka is ‘plumb worn out’, and I feel sad that they didn’t go whole hog and say ‘plumb tuckered out’.

Elegant Yokai Apartment Life, Vol. 1

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Elegant Yokai Apartment Life suffers from multiple personality disorder, lurching awkwardly from one situation to the next without comfortably settling into one storytelling mode long enough for the reader to decide if it’s a sitcom, a soap opera, or a horror show.

In fairness to creators Hinowa Kouzuki and Waka Miyama, few stories purely embody a single genre; the labels that the publishing and entertainment industries have coined — rom-com, dramedy — give ample proof that hybridization is a common strategy for enlivening familar plots. For such hybrid forms to work, however, the tonal shifts must be intrinsic to the story, arising naturally from the interactions between the characters and their environment. Elegant Yokai‘s narrative swerves, however, feel more like a desperate attempt to appeal to as many different constituencies as possible: there’s fanservice for guys (a female ghost who wears only panties and a well-placed towel) and girls (a hot onmyoji with a ponytail and a silver fox with an eye patch), yokai drawn from folklore and urban myth, a potential love interest for the hero, a raft of comic-relief characters who get brief turns in the spotlight, a subplot borrowed from a 1983 Afterschool Special, and tragic backstories for several characters just in case the idea of a “ghostly boarding house” doesn’t tickle your funny bone.

The most frustrating part of this narrative abundance is that so much of it feels… extra. Any one of these elements could be excised from the story without fundamentally changing the premise, making room for more character development. That point is crucial: Elegant Yokai‘s lead is less a person than a reader surrogate, walking from one situation to another in a state of mild befuddlement about his supernatural neighbors. Author Hinowa Kouzuki has saddled Inaba with motivations that explain how he ended up rooming with yokai, but hasn’t actually given him any discernible personality traits. Kouzuki and Miyama’s few attempts to flesh out Inaba’s character are clumsy and, frankly, illogical: what well-adjusted person marks his middle school graduation by fighting his BFF in an abandoned lot because he’s “always wanted to do that”? (Shouldn’t Inaba quote one of the rules of Fight Club or something?)

The artwork suffers from a similarly overdetermined quality. The human characters are less drawn than assembled from bits and pieces of other artists’ work — a dash of CLAMP here, a bit of Yuu Watase there — while the yokai have been shamelessly copied from Rumiko Takahashi and Hayao Miyazaki’s oeuvre. Making deliberate allusions to other artists’ work is, of course, a time-honored tradition, but here, these nods feel less like tribute and more like theft; readers tempted to compare Miyama’s art with Miyazaki’s are bound to find hers a poor substitute.

It’s only in the final chapter of volume one that we get a glimpse of what Elegant Yokai might have been. The story trains the spotlight on Inaba’s fellow apartment dwellers Kuga and Shiro, a boy and his dog who were murdered by Kuga’s mother. Once a month, Kuga’s mother — also a ghost — shows up at the apartment building to reclaim her son. Over time, however, her human form has deteriorated and memories have faded, reducing her to a pitiful demonic state, more scribble monster than angry wraith. The frankness with which Kouzuki and Miyama depict her crime prevents these scenes from descending into bathos; these moments are the only ones that elicit an authentic emotional response from the reader, not least because Kuga and Shiro’s predicament has a demonstrable effect on the other characters. Too bad the rest of volume one is such a frantic, disjointed mess.

ELEGANT YOKAI APARTMENT LIFE, VOL. 1 • STORY BY HINOWA KOUZUKI, ART BY WAKA MIYAMA • TRANSLATED BY ADAM HIRSCH • 206 pp. • RATED T (13+)

Water Dragon’s Bride, Vol. 3

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The Water Dragon’s Bride, Volume 3 by Rei Toma

The story in The Water Dragon’s Bride has been unfolding at a measured pace, in the third volume Asahi and Subaru are almost all grown up. As they become more adults, this results in some increased tension with Asahi’s eventual destiny as the bride of the Water Dragon as well as her role as priestess for Subaru’s village.

The volume opens with a little bit of backstory showing Asahi filing her role of priestess as she moves through adolescence. Every year, there’s a ritual designed to gain the favor of the water god, and Asahi disappears under the waves for three days. Her encounters with the water god are first limited to staring, glaring, and finally smiling. The elemental gods still are fundamentally alien when compared with humans. The Water Dragon at least has figured out that he needs to feed his young human bride, so he calls over the Tree God to give her some supplies. I enjoyed seeing these visits from the perspective of both the Water Dragon and Asahi.

I think a lot about clarity of art when I read a Rei Toma series, but I’m always struck by how much she is able to do with simple character designs and sparse backgrounds. It is expected that expressive eyes count for a great deal in shoujo manga, but she’s able to convey so much in just a couple pages. Subaru, aware that both his mother and his sister are prejudiced against Asahi, turns away from his family thinking “…don’t disappoint me more any than this.” His face is half in shadow, and blank in a way that shows he’s hiding the tension and disgust he feels inside. As he walks away he smiles and waves. All of this is accomplished with just one line of dialogue and some great sequencing and paneling from Toma in a two page spread.

For a series with such lovely illustrations and a seemingly fantastic premise, one of the reasons why I enjoy The Water Dragon’s Bride is that it explores some dark territory, particularly focusing on the way humans are capable of great cruelty. While the first volume also lingered on Asahi’s inhumane treatment by the Water Dragon who was absolutely ignorant and uncaring of the ways humans can suffer, humans seem like the real source of evil in the world. In addition to the leering gazes and jealously in Subaru’s village that Asahi has to isolate herself from, her capabilities as a priestess attract the attention of a neighboring village and a war is launched. Watching these events with Asahi, the Water Dragon thinks all the humans are fools.

While for most of this volume Asahi seems to be placed in a Persephone role, going back and forth between water and the human world, there’s a narrative turn as Water Dragon decides to dwell with humans for a time. Toma is able to pack an incredible amount of story in a single volume of manga, making this a shoujo fantasy series that is extremely rewarding to the reader.

Invaders of the Rokujouma!?, Vol. 6

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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.

First off, going back to my worries from the last review, I am delighted to see that Yurika’s character development from the previous book is not only kept but noticed by others. Yes, she is still sometimes the butt of the joke – this is a comedy, after all – but she’s far more content with her lot in life now, talking easily with Koutarou and realizing that using her abilities secretly so that no one knows about it may actually be the best thing she can do right now. The other cast members are also keeping their growth – Koutarou is noticeably less formal with Harumi here, and the cast is all starting to realize they’re in love with Koutarou without having it become their defining trait, always a worry in harem titles. Rokujouma may be light as air at times, but there’s more depth here than I was expecting.

Of course, sticking with the ‘heroine is the cover girl of the previous book’ rule, the main focus here is on Kiriha, the last of the ‘main girls’ in the room to be fleshed out, provided you’re not counting Harumi, who’s sort of the plus one in this situation. (I’m not sure if Shizuka is going to do anything but be the landlord who knows lots of martial arts – she certainly gets more do do in this book than usual, but her feelings for Koutarou are not brought up.) Kiriha has been the teasing older woman sort in the series, but naturally we discover that this is mostly a front to disguise her true motives, which are actually pretty pure and noble given she was supposed to be a vanguard for a race trying to invade the Earth’s surface. In reality, what she has in mind is more like immigration than anything else, and Koutarou is relieved to discover this.

She also has a childhood dream she wants to fulfill, as when she was a kid she ran away to the surface and met a young man who she immediately fell in love with. Now, I have been saying how much I enjoy Rokujouma here, but it does have a few downsides, and the biggest one is that it’s about as subtle as a brick to the head. Time travel has not really come up yet in the series, though given the amount of weird tech we’ve seen so far it would be no surprise. Also no surprise is the fact that the boy Kiriha fell for all those years ago is clearly ‘our’ Koutarou, who no doubt will find a way to slip back in time in some future book. Then again, I’m not sure that subtlety and mysteries are what the author is going for here. I think we’re meant to be winking along with the narrative.

Of all the ‘light, fluffy romance series with no real point’ I’ve been reading in light novel form, Rokujouma is probably my favorite. It’s always a relaxed, easy read, and some of its jokes made me laugh out loud this time (particularly Koutarou’s reaction to the five-team sentai squad when they first show up). If you don’t mind harems, it’s an excellent light novel starting point.

Queen’s Quality, Vol. 1

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By Kyousuke Motomi. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialization ongoing in the magazine Bessatsu Comic (“Betsucomi”). Released in North America by Viz. Translated by JN Productions, Adapted by Ysabet Reinhardt MacFarlane.

This is, of course, not so much Vol. 1 of a new series as a reboot of an old one, which is why I’ll continue to use the QQ Sweeper tag for it. Just looking at the covers might show a difference, though – the first QQ Sweeper volume had Kyutaro front and center, with Fumi getting less attention. But now the Q in the title has changed to refer to Fumi herself, and she is front and center. It’s also a more dramatic, serious cover, which is appropriate, as while there are still many lighthearted moments in the book, the overall mood is darker, particularly towards the end. The series examines the popular idea of negative emotions manifesting themselves and how to fight that. And, also a popular idea, the answer is to get in touch with the darkness in your soul without letting it overwhelm you.

While the essential plot is much the same – under the guise of cleaning around the school and residence, Fumi and Kyutaro seek out bug infestations, and work out where they may have come from. But Fumi’s true nature is revealed now, making her more self-conscious, but not nearly as badly as it affects Kyutaro, who has no idea how to act around her anymore, especially given their past together – a past he’s not allowed to talk to her about. Sometimes it’s best not to rip the band-aid off all at once. They even bring in an expert to test Fumi’s ability, though I wasn’t too fond of him – but that’s mostly because I just don’t like his type. That said, they do grow closer, especially in the shopping sequence, the most fun adn heartwarming part of the volume, where we discover Fumi’s dreadful fashion sense.

Things get dark fast, though, and the last chapter is showing us just how terrifying the Black Queen can be when she’s active. And active she has to be, as Fumi can’t learn how to control her dark side without knowing what it is and how it can take over. The scene of her gleefully torturing her teacher – who is, to be fair, a nasty piece of work – and ordering her to never close her eyes again for the rest of her life is chilling, reminding me a bit of Delirium at her worst in the Sandman comics. Fortunately, Kyutaro reminds us that he’s not just there to be a potential romantic lead, he’s also got the experience and determination to bring Fumi back from this, even if afterwards she’s terrified.

And so we get what will likely be the plot going forward: teaching Fumi to use her powers for niceness instead of evil, with the villains (who pop up here and are somewhat generic, though there’s a hint they’re not truly black-and-white evil) trying to corrupt her over to their side. Balancing this sort of serious drama with cute romance is what Motomi does best, of course, as readers of Dengeki Daisy will no doubt remember. I’m not quite sure why the series rebooted itself, but I am happy to see it back, and look forward to more volumes.

My Love Story!! Vol. 13

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My Love Story!! Volume 13 by Kazune Kawahara and Aruko

I had postponed reading the final volume of this series because I didn’t want it to end, but my curiosity about the conclusion helped me deal with my final volume procrastination syndrome. The final story arc was set up previously, with impending separation between Takeo and Yamato. I’ve probably been watching too many k-dramas where a couple gets separated and then they meet again 3 years later, but one of the refreshing things about this manga is that it actually deals with the problems of long-distance relationships instead of just conveniently fading to black and glossing over the separation period.

One of the hallmarks of this series is that in addition to the interest created by having a hulking giant of a boy as the main character in a shoujo series, My Love Story!! is able to step through some conventions shoujo plot elements and make them seem fresh due to the way the manga is infused with so much enthusiasm and heart. When Yamato goes to Spain Takeo is determined to bring his grades up so they can eventually go to the same college. He throws himself into studying with Suna constantly at his side. The unique circumstances surrounding Takeo and Yamato’s provide an opportunity to visit again with characters from throughout the series, as it seems everywhere Takeo goes someone feels the need to encourage him in his epic romance.

There are some hilarious scenes as Takeo goes to Spain in order to visit Yamato, and while a manga series set in high school ending at the point when the characters are about to head off to college is extremely typical, My Love Story!!, as always, ends on a note of such infectious optimism that I put the book down with a smile. This is going to be one of those series I keep around and read whenever I need to cheer myself up.

Rokka: Braves of the Six Flowers, Vol. 2

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By Ishio Yamagata and Miyagi. Released in Japan by Shueisha. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Jennifer Ward.

(Despite the fact that this isn’t a whodunnit beyond page 1, I won’t reveal the culprit’s name in the first paragraph of the review. After that, though, I will. FYI.)

The first volume of this series was strongly concerned with the ‘whodunnit’, and did a decent job, but also left us with a cliffhanger that made me worry we’d have to go through the whole thing again. Sensibly, the second book dispenses with the ‘who is the traitor’ question right off the bat, for the most part (there are still hints there’s yet ANOTHER traitor, but I’ll leave that for now) and tells us on the very first page. And then we get a flashback as to how we got to that situation, though there’s no record scratch noise, nor does the guilty party look towards the camera. So instead of whodunnit, or why did they do it, we have a sort of ‘how are they gonna get out of it?’ situation, as a very nice person has been personally put through the wringer the past three years and may have to commit the worst act to save those they hold dear.

Mora was presented to us in the first book as an overly serious woman, perhaps a bit stubborn, but determined to fill her role as a Brave and defeat the Evil God. And to be fair, she really IS a Brave, rather than a fake. That said, she’s being blackmailed, and being (I think) the oldest of the Braves, she has to deal with a very old and familiar form of blackmail. Do what the villain says or your daughter will die horribly. The strongest part of the book is taking us into her head and her tortured motivations for doing exactly what she has to do to save her family and yet also try not to take a life. Tellingly, the book still keeps some information secret from us, but it’s obvious why, and I don’t blame it a bit, as suspense novels need, well, suspense.

As for the rest of the book, there is still a ‘who is it?’ aspect to the book, and lots of debate about same, but as with the first book, the debates are interspersed with enough action so as not to be tedious. Also, unlike the first book, we get a great number of scenes of our heroes fighting demons… though they don’t do as well as they could, given that they still suspect each other of being a traitor. Adlet remains the ‘hero’ type character, but is a bit more likeable here, possibly as he refers to himself as the Strongest Man in the World slightly less. I did have one egregious moment of “OK, I call no way” involving searching for a ludicrously tiny thing across the ruins of a battlefield, but every book leads at least one time when the disbelief suspension bridge breaks and you plummet to your death.

The main reason I’m still interested in reading this is that it’s not very much like a lot of the other light novels we’re getting these days. Yes, it’s a fantasy with fiends, magic, etc. but style-wise we’re a long way removed from ‘I am in another world and dungeon crawling’. That said, I do wonder how many volumes it will drag out “one of us is a traitor”. But overall, well worth your time, and if you missed the insane bunny girl, there’s a cliffhanger here with your name on it.