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Reviews

Golden Kamuy, Vol. 1

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If you have a strong constitution and a healthy appetite for adventure, you’ll cotton to Golden Kamuy, a solid, if sometimes workmanlike, manga that reads like a mash-up of The Revenant and The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. Set on the Hokkaido frontier in 1905, Golden Kamuy tells the story of Saichi “Immortal” Sugimoto, a battle-scarred veteran of the Russo-Japanese War who’s desperately trying to raise money for a fallen comrade’s widow. After a chance encounter with a chatty ex-con, Sugimoto learns about a hidden treasure worth millions. Sugimoto then sets off to find the gold — no mean feat, as the map pinpointing its location has been tattooed onto the backs of a dozen prisoners, each with his own design on the loot.

Sugimoto faces another major obstacle to success: the harsh Hokkaido winter. A second fortuitous meeting — this time with an Ainu teenager — furnishes Sugimoto with a expert guide to wilderness survival. Like Sugimoto, Asirpa is searching for the treasure, albeit for a different reason: the men in her village died to prevent it from falling into Japanese hands. Though Asirpa slots into the common and often stereotyped role of “native sidekick,” she’s not just a repository of useful skills and earthy wisdom; she’s an individual with the courage to challenge Sugimoto when his determination shades into ruthlessness, and the tenacity to fight her way out of difficult situations by improvising traps, creating smokescreens, and throwing punches. Oh, and she brings down a hungry bear with a single well-placed arrow. She’s a baller, and one of the best reasons to read Golden Kamuy.

As skillful as Noda may be in establishing his setting and characters, the script suffers from frequent — if brief — patches of clumsy dialogue and narration. One of the most egregious examples occurs in chapter four, when Sugimoto goes mano-a-mano with another soldier. The artwork makes it plain that Sugimoto’s opponent gets the best of him by grabbing and disabling his rifle, but Noda interrupts the scene to inform us, “The moment they moved away from each other, the man depressed the bolt stop and pulled out the bolt, rendering Sugimoto’s rifle useless.” Such intrusions are all the more puzzling because Noda’s draftsmanship is crisp, stylish, and easy to parse; even when Noda indulges in an extreme close-up or odd camera angle, we’re never in doubt about what’s happening.

Speaking of Noda’s artwork, he draws guts, wounds, and scars with a surgeon’s precision, offering a nightmarish vision of bodies torn apart by bullets — and bears. Though a few sequences skirt the line between dramatic necessity and cinematic flourish, these horrific images play an essential role in conveying the brutality of frontier experience and the horrors of trench warfare. Anything tamer would rob the story of its urgency, and reduce Sugimoto to a simple opportunist, rather than a fierce survivor who’s cheated death dozens of times.

So if you can soldier past the tin-eared dialogue and frequent arterial spray, you’ll be rewarded with a briskly paced thriller that transports you to another time and place, capturing the Hokkaido wilderness in all its squalor, beauty, and promise. Recommended.

A copy of volume one was provided by the publisher. Golden Kamuy will be available on June 20, 2017.

GOLDEN KAMUY, VOL. 1 • ART AND STORY BY SATORU NODA • TRANSLATION BY EIJI YASUDA • VIZ MEDIA • RATING: M FOR MATURE (FOR READERS 18+) • 192 pp.

Yona of the Dawn, Vol. 6

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

One of the hallmarks of many a shoujo series is the idea of the man falling for a woman, among other reasons, because of her sheer stubbornness – the idea being that he no longer sees her as merely a weak girl who can’t do anything because of the fire in her eyes. And given that Jaeha is proving to be a tough nut to crack, it makes sense that we’d get one of these scenes with him and Yona as well. Of course, Yona of the Dawn is not your standard high school romance, and therefore the stubborn streak that Yona has involves truly death-defying walks along a sheer cliff face to acquire a much-needed herb. Jaeha can see how terrified Yona is of the whole thing, but also sees her reasoning behind why she still does it (mostly as she narrates it aloud to him, admittedly). It’s the best scene of the book.

The rest of the book is pretty nifty as well. We meet the pirate crew that Jaeha is working with, and they’re the ‘good’ kind of pirates, of course, led by a badass old woman who I hope we see more of but I suspect will be gone after this arc. The pirates are here to stop the evil slave traders kidnapping young girls, which makes Yona an obvious choice to be bait. (The other choice, equally obvious if you know this series, is Yun, who fills the tsundere role admirably and looks fantastic in women’s clothing (as he says himself). This does lead us to one of the series’ running themes, which is that it’s very difficult to conduct a secret mission to save the kingdom if you have fiery red hair that everyone knows is like the Princess. Yona’s solution here is very clever, and another sign of how she’s growing by leaps and bounds.

As for the romance side of the manga, well, Jaeha is falling for Yona, though he’s not quite ready to admit it. The second best scene in the book is when he talks to Hak and tries to get the measure of what the relationship between him and Yona is. Hak is very tightly wound, with most of his affection for Yona coming out as teasing and the occasional serious “dedication to duty” conversation, but it becomes clearer the longer he watches her that there is an intense pent-up desire there. This is normally the sort of thing that can’t stay pent up forever, but given this is a Hana to Yume romance, I expect it will likely stay pent up for quite some time. Still, it’s beautifully conveyed.

Ending with a truly loopy alternate universe omake (I love the idea of Yona as a ditz with a flower growing out of her head), this is another strong volume in an already strong series. Still one of the best Shojo Beat titles being released right now. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

My Big Sister Lives in a Fantasy World: The Melancholy of the High School Girl Light Novel Author?!

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By Tsuyoshi Fujitaka and An2A. Released in Japan as “Neechan wa Chuunibyou” by Hobby Japan. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Elizabeth Ellis.

I will save my objections for later in the review, so let me start by saying that a lot of this book is fun as usual. The author is getting more blatant in his Haruhi rip-offs, from the title of this volume to the fact that the villain is disappointed at Yuichi’s proactive personality and says she wants someone who says “yare yare” all the time, and it’s still funny. Mutsuko gets a lot less to do here than she normally does, but is still amusing in a “if I start to take her seriously she will be a Cthulian horror’ sort of way. Aiko and Yoriko make a good double act, and I’m amused at people saying Aiko’s not as much of a threat in the ‘love interest’ category as she’s too passive. And the overarching plot, which looks like it will be the core of the rest of the series, is not all that bad, taking the metatextual Haruhi stuff and trying to spin it in a dramatic way.

But enough of that, let’s move on to Kanako, who gets the spotlight here at last. I admit I had been misreading her in the first couple volumes as something of an airhead type, but now it becomes apparent that it’s more ‘withdrawn from reality’. And more to the point, Kanako has suicidal thoughts, and the book begins with her attempting to kill herself (it’s when she first meets Mutsuko and Yuichi). I will be fair, this scene works quite well. Mutsuko’s flip “that’s boring!” grates, but her solution, although ludicrous, teaches an important lesson, one that I think Kanako grasps. No, the trouble I have with Kanako’s subplot comes later in the book. Her relationship with her mother is written in a completely serious, realistic way, with no parodic elements at all, and the scene where she sees her, happy with her new family, is devastating. Having the villain take credit for her entire past, including her mother wanting a son so much that it poisoned her entire relationship with her child, is frankly awful and makes light of Kanako’s pain.

As for the climax of the book, Yuichi pays some lip service to the fact that you can’t just magically fix a suicidal person’s thoughts with a few well-intentioned words, but then he goes ahead and does it anyway. And Kanako is now added to the love interest pile, and I have a sneaking suspicion that we aren’t really going to touch on her problems again. It’s maddening in many ways, and one reason I find it hard to fully embrace this series – if it’s going to be a parody of Haruhi and similar series, it shouldn’t be using darker subplots like this one and the kidnapped girls one from Book 3, and if it does use the serious plots it should commit to them seriously and not handwave it away with the power of Yuichi’s GAR. And so I’m left with feelings of ambivalence. I do hope the next book uses Mutsuko more, as I find the series at its most intriguing when it’s examining her incredibly broken mindset.

Delicious in Dungeon, Vol. 1

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By Ryoko Kui. Released in Japan as “Dungeon Meshi” by Enterbrain, serialization ongoing in the magazine Harta. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Taylor Engel.

This is, when you come right down to it, a straight up mix of two popular genres right now. Dungeon Crawling is popular in both isekai works and others that just like the genre of the fantasy RPG. And cooking manga has always been popular in Japan for years, with people spending pages upon pages telling readers how delicious they can make something in great detail. Combining the two is a clever idea, and on the face of it the main reason to read this book, but I’m going to be honest, I found the actual RPG and food sections rather boring. No, the real reason to read this book are the main characters, who, while not the most original bunch, do give a off a certain weird charm – emphasis on the weird. They’re individually eccentric, but even more eccentric when put together.

Our party seems very standard by RPG terms: among others, they have a front-line warrior, an elf mage, and a small, grumpy trap expert. At the beginning of the title, they have even more people, but they miscalculate what supplies and food they need to successfully fight off a monster, and as a result are exhausted and starved. So they lose and have to run away – and worse, our hero’s sister in literally eaten by one of the monsters. When most of the rest of their team quits, they’re left in dire straits – the sister can be rescued, but only if they return immediately. Thus a truly foolish, desperate idea – save on supplies by eating the monsters they capture. With the help of a dwarf who had a lot of cooking knowledge and very little common sense, they set out to slowly return to where they left off and maybe try to rescue the sister, though honestly they’re taking so long I’m not expecting much.

As I said above, the main reason to read this is the off-kilter sense of humor it has. Laios, our hero, is a monster freak with a lot of idealism and book knowledge, but it’s also made him a bit of a ditz. Marcille, the elf mage, is a walking font of common sense for the most part, forever forced to be the tsukkomi and be shocked to find the technically gross things she’s eating are actually really tasty when cooked properly. The other one with some common sense is Chilchuck, the trap expert, and he contrasts well with the dwarf, Senshi, who is a bit of a pop-eyed lunatic when he’s not talking about food. Fortunately, Chilchuck is easily flattered. Together, the four of them get into vaguely death-defying situations as they attempt to save Laios’ sister, whose fate seems to be a bit of a running gag, but I suspect will pop up later on if only as the alternative is a bit too dark.

I’m not exactly sure if this is a series I’d want to keep reading on a regular basis, but the first volume was amusing enough, and is definitely worth it if you enjoy dungeon crawls. As for the foodie crowd… possibly less so.

Yona of the Dawn, Vol. 6

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Yona of the Dawn Volume 6 by Mizuho Kusanagi

I’m always happy when a new volume of Yona of the Dawn comes out. The cover of this volume, featuring Yona and Sinha sheltering from the rain under a giant leaf, is particularly adorable. Yona is tested in many ways as she learns more about the Green Dragon and his pirate companions.

Although Yona doesn’t have any superpowers, the force of her forthright personality proves to be an incredible advantage for her. When the Green Dragon Jaeha announces that he won’t join up with her, she reacts calmly, saying that she’ll ask him to join her but would never order or try to compel him to change his mind. Yona is tested even further when Jaeha takes her to meet the pirate queen, Captain Gi-Gan. She tests the companions and refuses to accept Yona, since Yona doesn’t have any special or useful abilities. Gi-Gan tells Yona to gather a rare medicinal herb, which requires some treacherous hiking at the edge of a cliff. Yona is determined to prove herself worthy of taking part in the upcoming battle, and she heads off to face her test, accompanied by Jaeha. Jaeha’s Green Dragon protective instincts kick in even as he tries to fight the bond he has with Yona.

There were a bunch of very cute Yona and Hak moments in this volume. Hak points out that her attitude towards the Green Dragon’s recruitment is totally at odds to her ordering him to accompany her on her journey and she gets incredibly flusters and tells him to shut up because “You’re different.” Hak secretly finds this adorable. Hak’s jealousy kicks into high gear when Jaeha talks about how unique and cute Yona is. His emotions are tested even more when Yona decides to go undercover to subvert the local warlord’s terrible plans for human trafficking with the village girls. Sometimes I’m not a fan of such slowly developing romances, but while Hak has clearly acknowledged his feelings internally, it still seems like Yona hasn’t examined her feelings for him quite as closely. Hopefully there will be more developments here in the next volume or so!

As I was reading this volume of Yona of the Dawn, I realized that it reminded me quite a bit of Basara. There’s the superficial similarity of awesome pirate queen characters popping up in both manga, but the slower pace of the storytelling allowing the author to introduce an expansive cast with plenty of character development along the way is the main reason why I like both series.

Girls’ Last Tour, Vol. 1

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Was Tsukumizu an architect in a previous life? That question lingered with me as I read volume one of Girls’ Last Tour, a sci-fi manga that unfolds in a not-too-distant future filled with crumbling infrastructure and empty cities. Tsukumizu details the physical environment with precision, from sagging girders and abandoned cranes to pockmarked skyscrapers, broken trestles, and rusting water tanks. The sense of loss is palpable on every page, whether the principal characters are surveying an airplane “graveyard” filled with rusting turboprops, or searching for safe passage through a partially flooded city. Though we don’t learn what caused the devastation, Tsukumizu’s vivid illustrations suggest that the world we’re seeing was torn apart by violence.

If only the characters were rendered with such specificity! Yuuri and Chito — the “girls” of the title — are opposites: Yuuri is the brawn, Chito the brain. Both are so focused on their own survival that we have little sense of who they were before the apocalypse, or what brought them together. That in itself isn’t a fatal flaw; Robert Redford’s character in All Is Lost, for example, had no obvious backstory to explain why he was sailing by himself, or who might miss him if he drowned at sea. Yet the movie was compelling, as Redford’s character was painfully aware of his own vulnerability, and the unlikeliness of being rescued. In Girls’ Last Tour, by contrast, the dramatic stakes are low; many chapters revolve around simple activities — jerry building a hot tub, finding a place to sleep — that don’t reveal much about either girl’s personality, or the dangers they face.

The one exception is a story arc spanning chapters six, seven, and eight, in which Yuuri and Chito meet a cartographer who’s been diligently mapping an unnamed city. When an accident scatters Kanazawa’s maps to the wind, his anguish at their loss generates a visceral jolt of emotion. “I may as well fall with them,” he declares, a statement that Chito and Yuuri forcefully reject before dragging Kanazawa to safety atop a tower. As they peer out over the city, their bodies dwarfed by sky and buildings, the darkness gives way to a brilliant patchwork of lights that illuminate their faces and the rooftops around them — a potent reminder that the city once teemed with life.

Tsukumizu frustrates the reader’s efforts to make sense of the characters, however, by drawing Chito and Yuuri as a pair of affectless automatons. Yuuri’s comments about the lights indicate that she’s genuinely moved, but her face and her body don’t register any emotion; she might as well be discussing what she had for dinner, or whether railroad ties make good firewood. Perhaps the flatness of her delivery is meant to convey just how weary she is, or how pragmatic she must be to survive, but the banality of her conversations with Chito suggest that Tsukumizu had some difficulty creating characters as sharp and memorable as the world they inhabit.

The bottom line: Your mileage will vary: some people may appreciate the series’ absence of dramatic conflict, while others may find it a little too measured to be engrossing. I’m on the fence about this one; on the strength of the final story arc, however, I’ll be picking up volume two.

GIRLS’ LAST TOUR, VOL. 1 • STORY AND ART BY TSUKUMIZU • TRANSLATION BY AMANDA HALEY • YEN PRESS • RATED T, FOR TEEN (13+) • 162 pp.

 

Invaders of the Rokujouma!?, Vols. 1-3

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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.

This series has an unusual history, at least in terms of translation. It’s 24+ volumes in Japan, so no one was seriously considering it as a possible license. Plus it had a fan translation already. But J-Novel Club reached out to the fan translator and made a deal, and so what we have here is that translation, newly edited for published release. It’s available for free on J-Novel’s site, or you can buy it on Amazon and the usual suspects as a normal light novel. As for why you’d want to? Well, do you like Strike the Blood? Do you enjoy its blinding obvious cliches but wish that it was less action oriented and more of a harem comedy? If so, then Rokujouma may be the series for you! It’s cliched as heck, but rarely actively irritating, and at times even can be heartwarming and amusing.

If you are wondering what Rokujouma means, well, I’m a little unclear on that myself, but the basic premise is that this young man, living alone as he starts high school, has found a dirt-cheap apartment. It’s dirt-cheap because, as the landlady tells him, it’s haunted and everyone’s been driven out of it. This does not bother our hero, though, as he’s a deep sleeper. After an accident he gets into while at work (which is, somewhat frustratingly, never followed up on in any of the three books), he comes home and finds he can now see the ghost, a cute young girl trying to get him out as this is HER apartment. And then suddenly we get a self-proclaimed magical girl, a member of an underground tribe, and an alien princess and her retainer, all of whom have designs on the room for their own reasons. And it’s not even a big apartment! Hijinx, as they say, ensue.

The author notes in the afterword of Volume 1 that this is only his second book, and his first series. It shows a bit – the flaws in this series are the sort you see in a new writer’s work, with some stuff explained too much, some not explained enough, and the occasional reliance on stereotypes to take the place of characterization, though that improves as the series goes on. The first book is the weakest, since it has to introduce the cast all at once and can’t really do much else. Stronger was the second book, which involves a school athletic festival and is filled with lots of opportunities for wacky comedy – the anime version of this is likely quite amusing. The best reason to read the series is Yurika, the magical girl who absolutely no one believes. I suspect the author was watching Haruhi Suzumiya when he wrote her, as she’s basically Mikuru, but the sheer amount of abuse and contempt heaped upon her by our hero, the other girls, and even the narration is so overblown it becomes hilarious.

This is absolutely a standard harem comedy, and doesn’t really do much of anything to set itself up above the pack so far. That said, it also doesn’t really do too much to really make it horrible, either. The ghost girl gets a lot of character development in the third book, and I suspect future books will do the same for the others. If you like this genre, and haven’t already read the series online, Rokujouma is worth checking out.

Descending Stories: Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinji, Vol. 1

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By Haruko Kumota. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Itan. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Matt Alt.

Just as there is a big difference between having the Great American Novel in your head and actually being able to turn it into an actual book, there is a difference between being able to tell a great story when you’re in a bar or with your friends and being able to tell a great story in front of an audience who is there to be entertained by your stories. And in Japan there is a tradition devoted to just such a thing: Rakugo, where the performer sits on a cushion and tells a long, involved story, usually involving multiple people, and has to make sure to differentiate between the characters, not make everything too complicated to follow, and entertain the audience. This is the sort of thing that ex-con Yotaro wants to do, and he persuades one of the last rakugo masters (it’s a dying art) to take him on as an apprentice. But of course, it’s not as easy as that.

The thing that struck me most about this series as I read it is the way that the three main characters are both sympathetic and yet very difficult to like. Yotaro is obnoxious in the sort of way that you’re glad he’s just a character in a story and not your actual friend, and his apprenticeship at times seems like he’s more of a puppy that was picked up off the streets (this is actually lampshaded). Yakumo, the rakugo master, is a cranky and aging man who is upset that his art is dying and troubled by a tragic past, including the death of his best friend, whose art he sometimes tries to show in his own work. He’s unpleasant in just the right ways to make him fascinating yet really irritating, and it’s still not quite clear why he picked Yotaro to be an apprentice when he never has before – I don’t think he really knows either, though Yotaro does have some raw talent.

The third main character is Konatsu, Yakumo’s “ward” and the daughter of the dead best friend I mentioned before. She is deeply bitter and angry about the death of her parents, which she suspects Yakumo was actually involved in more than he admits, and is also deeply angry and bitter about the fact that women are not allowed to perform rakugo – a shame as she’s really, really good at it, and she knows it. She ends up teaching Yotaro most of the basic skills, mostly as his actual master is far too busy using him as an actual dogsbody. The anguished and dark conversation between her and Yakumo, where he wishes out loud that the gods had let her be born a man, and she says she feels the same, is heartbreaking. Basically, Konatsu is a walking timebomb, and I’m curious how many volumes it will take for her to go off.

Descending Stories ran in Itan, one of Kodansha’s ‘sui generis’ manga magazines that, like many other ‘sui generis’ manga magazines, tends to get classified as josei when people try to slap a genre on it anyway. I can see why this story falls into that genre, though – the art style reminds me of Ooku, and not just because of the period kimonos and hair. Descending Stories didn’t bowl me over, but it’s a strong start, and I definitely want to say where these characters go next.

Flying Witch, Vol. 1

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By Chihiro Ishizuka | Published by Vertical Comics

Makoto Kowata is a novice witch who, in the tradition of witches, has left home at the age of fifteen to become independent. Her parents are concerned about her safety, though, so she’s staying with relatives in Aomori, located in the Tohoko region where it’s easier to perform magic thanks to abundant wilderness and natural resources. Accompanying her is her familiar, a black cat named Chito who is indisputably my favorite character.

Flying Witch is a calm, slice-of-life tale depicting Makoto’s attempts to fit in to her new surroundings. Makoto’s young cousin, Chinatsu, is scared of her at first, but changes her opinion to “so cool!” after a ride on a broomstick. Makoto starts high school and forgets that she’s not supposed to be talking about witchy matters with people who aren’t family. She tries to give a mandrake to an ordinary girl as a present. She starts a vegetable garden. She receives a visit from “the harbinger of spring” and another from her world-traveling sister.

It’s all very peaceful, but there are some amusing moments scattered throughout. I love that Chinatsu’s dad has a heavy regional accent (rendered as Southern in the translation) and that, after everyone else has tried and failed to capture a pheasant, he gives it a shot himself, comically muttering, “Dang it!” But what I really love is anything to do with Chito. Ishizuka-sensei does a terrific job at conveying Chito’s facial expressions, including an adorable panel of the kitty sticking out her tongue and going “pbbt.” The best, though, occur during the chapter in which Chito leads direction-challenged Makoto for a walk in the neighborhood. She assures her they’re going to a good spot, but it ends up being a location where Chito can taunt a dog on a tether, remaining disdainfully out of reach as he goes berserk.

Even though the premise is very different from Yotsuba&!, that gentle, slice-of-life feeling summons a similar response. I ended up enjoying this a lot more than I expected to, and now eagerly await volume two, albeit mostly for more Chito.

Flying Witch is ongoing in Japan, where five volumes have been released so far. Vertical will release the second volume in English later this month.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 11

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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.

The Index series is very fond of building on previous volumes and showing us that nothing takes place in a vacuum – there are no “stand alone” novels, everything impacts something else. And so this volume ends up being something of a direct sequel to the 7th volume, as Touma and Index win a trip to Italy (that was clearly rigged, though that’s not made explicit) and barely manage to arrive in a small city near Venice before they are once again embroiled in the Roman Orthodox’s attempts to regain power whatever the cost. This also follows up on events from Vols. 9 and 10 = Lidvia failed, and so the church is even more desperate, and looking for scapegoats. And what better scapegoats than the group of nuns who failed in the 7th book, led by Agnes Sanctis, who it turns out is far too similar to Touma and Orsola for her own good. For a book that goes to Italy and back in under 24 hours, there’s a lot going on here.

Introduced in this volume: Biagio Busoni, Itsuwa, Pope Matthai Reese, Vento of the Front. The latter two are not explicitly named. Busoni is the villain of the volume, but like Lidvia he ends up being another in a series of failures. Itsuwa is the most important introduction here, but you wouldn’t guess it from her small and pointless appearance in this volume, where she spends the entire time handing Touma hot towels and harboring an obvious crush on him, which the other Amakusa Catholics encourage and get frustrated by. (So she clearly saw Touma in action in Book 7, even if she wasn’t named – the anime adding her makes total sense.) The Pope and Vento appear in the final cliffhanger scene, and make it clear that the Church is not going away. Timeline-wise, it’s the end of September, and the festival has mostly ended but school hasn’t started up yet, which is why Touma and Index can go to Italy. In the Railgun timeline, we’re starting the Dream Ranker arc, though honestly at this point it gets harder to mesh timelines – Railgun hasn’t hit books after this one yet.

As you might be able to tell by the cover, Index gets significant time in this book, even though Agnes is the heroine that Touma is saving this time around, and arguably Orsola gets more to do. I have a bit of a reputation as an Index apologist, but even her detractors would have to admit that she’s at her best in this book, showing off her knowledge of Europe and ability to speak multiple languages, saving Touma and Orsola from a sniper attack, and continuing to use magic despite characters literally saying she can’t use magic mere pages later. (I understand what they’re trying to say – Index herself has no magic ability, she’s just using the books within her. But it’s semantics at this point, given she’s speaking spells that alter the trajectory of bullets and the like.) Actually, the one big flaw in this book is Touma, who spends most of it being far grumpier and angrier than he has any right to be – Index does bite him a couple of times, but the prose makes it very clear that he was asking for it heavily.

And once again we have the Roman Orthodox Church as villains, though Orsola exists to show off the goodness that can still exist within them. Of course, she’s off to join the English Puritans, and from a strictly religious standpoint, this could be disquieting – but this is a fantasy where magic is thrown around like candy, so there’s no need to examine it too hard. As always, the book goes out of the way to avoid using the word “Catholic” in regards to this church, even though we have the Russian Catholic Church mentioned. Indeed, for a book with as much religion as this one has, Jesus Christ is never named explicitly – which could be a simple translation choice, but also makes sense, given that these Roman Catholics seems to place far more faith in powerful tools, such as the Cross that Jesus died on (Crossist is used a lot) than Jesus’ teachings, which only Orsola seems to take to heart. Again, Index is fascinating in many ways, but devout Catholics may want to skip it.

This volume ends with a cliffhanger, but I’m not sure that we’ll see it resolved in the next book, as Touma’s punishment game should take center stage. Also, isn’t it about time we see Accelerator again? In any event, this is a very good volume that will please casual light novels readers.

Mixed Bathing in Another Dimension: The Chaotic Stone Sauna

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By Nagaharu Hibihana and Masakage Hagiya. Released in Japan as “Isekai Konyoku Monogatari” by Overlap. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Sophie Guo.

Despite the threat of death from a giant dragon/dinosaur thing that secretes poison gas, this is actually another relatively low-impact volume of Mixed Bathing, and I think I’m coming to terms with that a bit more. In fact, it turns out to be an inversion of the last book. Last time Touya and company were doing all the plot-relate4d work, and we only briefly touched on Haruno back at Athenapolis. This time around Haruno gets far more of the focus – over a third of the book. Touya, meanwhile, mostly dithers around in the Fire Nation, which does not seem to be attacking anytime soon, taking advantage of the blessings of his various goddesses to get things like a really awesome kitchen (although not, oddly, a toilet, something that is relevant enough to be a plot point later – I assume it’s because toilets and baths in Japan are so separate, but still, was this trip really necessary?). Mostly, though, Mixed Bathing continues to develop its plot and backstory, and gives us more likeable characters who respect each other. Which I still can’t get enough of.

Of course, there’s a naked loli on the cover, so the book has likely already lost a chunk of audience that might otherwise have tried it out. Said loli is Rakti, the Goddess of Darkness who due to the events we heard about in the previous volume, is now freed and with our heroes, although given she has to hide her powers to avoid world war, she mostly functions as a moeblob this book. As noted, Touya leaves Hadesopolis and heads to the Fire Nation, Hephaestusopolis (bet you can’t guess how the author came up with these city names) to gain the blessing of the Fire Goddess, something that is relatively simple and painless. (The Light Goddess is not amused, though, and honestly the goddesses seem to be functioning as the cliched harem that Touya’s actual real-world harem isn’t.) The action comes in the last third of the book, with a nasty fight and some clever use of both his bath powers and Clena’s own magic – Touya is still using more spells and less bath, but he’s starting to combine the two, and I liked how he’s now working together in battle with the others more.

As for Haruno and her group, she’s actually the one picking up more new girls this time around, although whether Daisy and Prae will end up being part of Touya’s harem is not really clear – Touya and Haruno still have not met back up. Prae did make me a little uncomfortable – she seems to have a mental disability of some sort, and while Haruno and the others treat her normally and with respect, I’m not exactly sure why the author went in this direction beyond “the giant woman acts like a child”. More impressive is Haruno’s political intrigue, where she shows off her smarts and her strength of will, taking out a corrupt slave regime and the senators behind it in literally one day, and then skedaddling after the revelation of what really happened in the past has led to a schism in the Light Goddess’ followers.)

In the end, this is simply a good series, showing depth of thought into the backstory of the world, and respect for all the characters, which given how much naked bathing there is in this story remains a major feat. It’s become one of my most anticipated light novel titles.

My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness

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By Nagata Kabi. Released in Japan as “Sabishisugite Lesbian Fuzoku Ni Ikimashita Report” by East Press. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jocelyne Allen.

This book took me by surprise several times, mot least of which is the fact that it was licensed at all. A realistic look at depression and sexuality done autobiographically, and then released first on the art board Pixiv, then by the small publisher East Press? It was not the type of story I expected to see picked up by the publishers of Monster Girl Encyclopedia. But no publisher ever quite fits its cliche, and Seven Seas decided to take a chance on this book. I’m so glad they did, and you should be as well, because this is a raw but fascinating and ultimately uplifting read for anyone. I was actually surprised at how much of it spoke to me, being that I am seemingly not the typical audience for this book, but the experiences here also hold a touch of the universal, and the way they play out is excellent.

After a brief flashforward to the event on the cover, which is mostly covered in the second half of the book, we get the author’s examination of her life after high school. She was doing art at college but dropped out, and attempts to hold down a part-time job were hampered by her issues of self-esteem, eating disorders, and a serious case of depression. This is not a lighthearted title, and we get a lot of examination of the thought process that goes into being depressed and having anxiety. It’s one of the best parts of the book – by working over everything in such detail, with the author also analyzing her own behavior at the time as she writes it, she shows us how difficult it can be to get yourself out of that hole you dig. There’s also a realization that she may not want to be the person that her parents are pushing her to be – which then leads into an examination of her sexuality.

Again, like the depression, she lays this out in a very straightforward, visible manner, showing how she didn’t even think of herself as a gender, because she didn’t want to be seen first as a woman, then as a person. This leads to her realizing that she’s more attracted to women’s bodies, and a wonderful examination of the need for affection and physical contact, beyond the bounds of sexuality. It culminates in the decision to have a session with a worker from an escort agency, so that she can experience what she’s been obsessing over. Of course, this being realistic autobiography, the experience is as awkward and difficult as you’d imagine (I liked where she expressed regret that she forgot to hug them), but things do end up more hopeful by the end of the book, with the author taking this experience and deciding to use it to create the story we’re reading, and the online reaction she gets, leaves you smiling and hoping that she finds fulfillment.

Basically, this manga may make you uncomfortable at times, but it is well worth it to see how one person can talk about such universal topics as anxiety, depression, and sexual identity on the page. Please go buy it, you won’t regret it.

Water Dragon’s Bride, Vol. 2

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The Water Dragon’s Bride, Volume 2 by Rei Toma

The first volume of Water Dragon’s Bride was surprisingly dark, which made it feel quite a bit refreshing as it was quite a tonal shift from the usual shoujo fantasy fare. The second volume wasn’t quite as dark in theme, but it was still quite absorbing, ensuring that this series is rapidly becoming a current favorite of mine.

Modern girl Asahi finds herself transported to another world where she ends up being brutalized by humans, offered up as a sacrifice to the Water Dragon God, and almost starves to death due to the Water Dragon’s utter incomprehension of human frailty. Her one ally is Subaru, a village boy with a scheming and overbearing mother. The Water Dragon appears and heals Asahi from her injuries as she is recuperating in the village. Asahi has a few normal hours where she attempts to communicate while being robbed of speech and she is able to enjoy the outdoors a little bit.

The Water Dragon begins to exhibit some gradual signs of change with the mild protectiveness he exhibits towards Asahi. He becomes angry at the human villagers and finds the rituals and stories they’ve made up about him ridiculous, but he still has no idea how easily breakable humans are, causing yet another accident to Asahi and Subaru as he gets caught up in rage. Asahi is left to care for Subru on his own when he’s injured and she ends up being incredibly resourceful even when she is helped along a little bit by the gods who seem to regard her as a pet project.

Asahi’s situation stabalizes somewhat, as she’s given the role of a priestess and a caretaker. The Water Dragon decided to wait to claim his bride until she’s older and the last few pages give a glimpse of Asahi and Subaru much older, giving a hint to the next story arc. The art on The Water Dragon’s Bride continues to be delightful, and I’m still in awe of Toma’s deceptively simple illustration style. The art isn’t overdecorated, but she manages to portray everything she needs with great economy. It is always clear what Asahi is thinking, even when she’s robbed of the power of speech. The character designs for the pantheon of gods that keep popping in and out to offer sly commentary on the Water Dragon’s inexplicable choices are also charming. My only complaint is that there’s too much of a wait between volumes for this series!

Delicious in Dungeon, Vol. 1

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Food manga comes in two flavors: the tournament series, in which a brash young baker or chef enters cook-offs that stretch his culinary skills to the limit, and the food-is-life series, in which family, friends, or colleagues prepare food together, resolving their differences over tasty dishes. Delicious in Dungeon straddles the fence between these two types by combining elements of a role-playing game, cooking show, and workplace comedy. Expressed as a recipe, the formula for volume one might look something like this:

2 cups Dungeons & Dragons
1 cup Iron Wok Jan
1/2 cup Toriko
1/2 cup Oishinbo
1/2 cup What Did You Eat Yesterday?
2 tbsp. Food Wars: Shokugeki no Soma
2 tbsp. Not Love But Delicious Foods Makes Me Happy!
Dash of Sweetness & Lightning

Though that recipe sounds unappetizing — the manga equivalent of a herring-and-banana smoothie — Delicious in Dungeon is surprisingly good.

Volume one plunges us into the action, pitting a team of warriors and spell-casters against an enormous dragon. Though all six fighters are experienced, they’re so compromised by hunger that they make silly mistakes that result in one member getting eaten. When the team regroups, two members defect to another guild, leaving just Laois, a knight, Chilchuck, a “pick-lock,” and Marcille, an elf magician. The three resolve to rescue Laois’ sister from the Red Dragon’s belly, but their chronic lack of funds forces them to adopt a novel cost-saving strategy: foraging for food inside the dungeon instead buying supplies for the mission.

The trio soon learns that catching and cooking monsters is harder than it looks. Despite the astonishing variety of creatures and man-eating plants that inhabit the dungeon, almost none appear to be edible: some have stingers or hard shells, while others are so disgusting that no one can imagine how to prepare them. When Senshi, a dwarf, volunteers his culinary services, the group is pleasantly surprised by his ability to transform the most unpromising specimen into a delicious array of soups, tempuras, and jerkies. Even more impressive is Senshi’s ability to improvise the tools he needs to make gourmet dishes; he’s the D&D answer to Angus MacGyver.

Subsequent chapters follow a similar template: the group enters a new area of the dungeon, encounters new monsters, and devises new ways to cook them. What prevents this basic plotline from growing stale is Ryoko Kui’s imaginative artwork. Every chapter is studded with charts and diagrams illustrating the dietary habits of dungeon crawlers and the unusual anatomy of dungeon dwellers, from slime molds to basilisks. These meticulous drawings provide a natural jumping-off point for Senshi to wax poetic about the flavor of dried slime, or describe the safest method of harvesting mandrakes.

By contrast, the backgrounds resemble the kind of generic settings of early computer RPGs, providing just enough detail — cobblestone hallways, winding staircases — to establish each location. That allows Kui to lavish attention on the monsters and people — a wise decision, I think, since the artwork plays such a vital role in establishing each character’s personality and powers. Marcille, for example, is a worrywart, her semi-permanent frown mirrored by the angle and shape of her ears. Though her peevish monologues suggest that she’s food-phobic, her slumping posture and clumsy attempts at spell-casting tell a different story: Marcille feels superfluous, and longs for an opportunity to demonstrate her usefulness to the group. Chilchuck, by contrast, is small and nimble; his child-like size belies his maturity and skill as a locksmith and minesweeper, while his cat-like movements remind us that he’s not fully human. (The other characters refer to him as a “halfling.”)

If the series’ rhythm is predictable and the jokes sometimes obvious — one character declares that basilisk “tastes like chicken” — the specificity of Kui’s vision keeps Delicious in Dungeon afloat. Every chapter yields a funky new monster and an even funkier recipe from Senshi — all rendered in precise detail — while the script has the rhythm of a great workplace sitcom; it’s a bit like watching The Office or WKRP in Cincinnati, but with jokes about the merits of giant scorpion meat instead of arguments about the annual Christmas party. I don’t know if I’d want to read 10 or 20 volumes of Delicious in Dungeon, but I’m eager to see where the next installment goes.

DELICIOUS IN DUNGEON, VOL. 1 • BY RYOKO KUI • RATING: T, FOR TEEN (13+) • YEN PRESS

My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected, Vol. 2

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By Wataru Watari and Ponkan 8. Released in Japan as “Yahari Ore no Seishun Rabukome wa Machigatte Iru” by Shogakukan. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jennifer Ward.

In many ways, this second volume of OreGairu does not have a heck of a lot going on. There are school ativities and discussion of career plans, as befits high schoolers. There is the Service Club and their attempts to help people, which features two cases this time around, both of which are solved relatively quickly. But that’s appropriate, as the problems are very much those of typical high-schoolers – feeling like the odd man out in a group of friends, and trying to find a way to pay for higher education. They’re also solved relatively quickly because both Hachiman and Yukino are both amazingly intelligent and observant, and normally they’d be praiseworthy. But they aren’t, mostly because of the reason anyone would read OreGairu in the first place: to read about these horrible, broken people lacerating each other with words.

I read this book right after reading Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, and the contrast between narrative style is mindblowing. Hachiman’s cynical bitterness overflows every page, and his defensive asides only serve to make him more pathetic and yet strangely endearing. His insight into human nature, particularly the way that high school students interact around each other, is high-level stuff, and if he was looking for a career at all I’d suggest he move in a direction where he could use those talents for the better good. But his crushing apathy and disaffection ensures that this isn’t going to happen. Yukino is similar to him, though without the outward self-hatred. I say outward because this second volume shows us that there is a topic that really upsets Yukino and cracks her jerkass facade, and that’s showing family issues in her face. Clearly Yukino’s issues are family-related just as Hichiman’s are peer-related, and I have no doubt that future books will explore this in agonizing detail.

Thank goodness for Yui. I feel a little bad for her, as much of the time she feels like a character from a far more cliched light novel trapped inside this series. But she’s desperately needed to offset the bile coming from her two clubmates, and her relatively normal reactions to everything show off both how intelligent and broken Hachiman and Yukino are. She’s also tied to the accident at the start of his high school life, something he is now aware of, and this culminates in a stunning final scene where she gives him a perfect opening to get closer to her and possibly lead up to something more, and he just shuts her down as callously as possible. This series would never work if Hachiman’s attitude was fixed as quickly as this, so the pushback was expected. But it’s beautifully, heartbreakingly written, and you feel bad for Hachiman while wanting to kick him in the head. And Yui needs a hug.

That said, the actual plot is mostly irrelevant for this series, which runs on snappy dialogue and clever characterization. It’s not a happy, feel-good series at all, but it’s absolutely worth a read for light novel fans.