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Reviews

Master Keaton, Vol. 11

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If you’re a connoisseur of British crime procedurals, you’ve undoubtedly watched Midsomer Murders, England’s answer to Murder, She Wrote. It isn’t the edgiest or smartest mystery series on television, but it is among the most consistently enjoyable, delivering a satisfying answer to the question, “Whodunnit?” at the end of every episode. Much of the series’ appeal lies with its formula: someone commits a ghastly murder, prompting DCI Barnaby to scrutinize the crime scene, interrogate reluctant witnesses, and suss out hidden clues before assembling the suspects to reveal the killer’s identity and motives. This formula is flexible enough to offer a new murder scenario every week, yet predictable enough to reassure viewers that there’s a payoff for keeping track of the subplots and false leads that frustrate Barnaby’s efforts to solve the mystery.

Master Keaton — a joint effort by Hokusai Katsushika and Naoki Urasawa — offers the same kind of experience in manga form. Every volume features an assortment of mysteries, all solved by the brilliant investigator Taichi Hiraga Keaton. (In an original touch, Keaton works for an insurance agency, though he frequently moonlights as a private eye.) Though the stories’ denouements occasionally veer into Scooby Doo territory — more on that later — Katsushika and Urasawa have a knack for spinning a good yarn, whether the story involves lost Nazi gold or a conscience-stricken assassin.

One key to Katsushika and Urasawa’s success is that they carefully adhere to the same basic rules as Midsomer Murders, setting each mystery in a community where resentments fester, secrets abound, and strong personalities clash. Katsushika and Urasawa put a fresh spin on this storytelling technique by choosing a new locale for each story, rather than limiting the action to a fictional English county, a la Midsomer. In volume eleven, for example, Keaton flits from East Germany to the Scottish highlands to a haunted London mansion. As disparate as these settings may be, each is as much “a cauldron” or “microcosm” as a country village — to borrow a phrase from Midsomer creator Anthony Horowitz — thus creating the right setting “for something unpleasant — a murder, for example — to take place.”

Consider “The Lost Genius Director,” one of the shortest, most tightly plotted stories in volume 11. In just two pages, Katsushika and Urasawa create a virtual “village” populated with vivid characters: a perfectionist director, his devoted wife, a vain leading man, and a nervous producer who’s caught between the director’s vision and the bottom line. All of these characters are living and working in close proximity on the set, clashing over the director’s insistence that the cast re-shoot several key scenes. When the director is found dangling from a noose, Keaton discovers a video of the victim’s final moments, a video that first implicates, then exonerates, the most obvious suspect. This narrative feint makes the actual “reveal” more satisfying, as we come away from the story feeling as if we were just a step or two behind Keaton in solving the crime.

The few stories that falter do so because Katsushika and Urasawa violate this second unspoken rule of whodunnits. In “Love from the Otherworld” and “Lost Beyond the Wall,” the endings feel arbitrary; there simply aren’t enough clues to justify the outcome of the story. The problem is especially acute in “Otherworld,” a supernatural mystery that plays out like a classic Scooby Doo episode: a book publisher hires Keaton to investigate a ghost who’s been roaming the halls of his mansion. Though it doesn’t take a great leap of imagination to realize that one of the household members is, in fact, “the ghost,” the story is so compressed that we don’t learn enough about the characters to independently arrive at the same conclusion as Keaton. More frustrating still, the denouement is handled in such a bald, clumsy fashion that the culprit all but declares, “And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for you meddling kids and that darn dog!”

It’s easy to overlook the few clunkers, however, as Katsushika and Urasawa clearly have a deep love for the mystery genre. Nowhere is that more evident in “Return of the Super Sleuth?!” and “Pact on Ben-Tan Mountain,” two stories that knowingly borrow elements from Rear Window and Strangers on a Train. Both stories honor the spirit of the source material, preserving the most important details while finding new and surprising ways to resolve these famous plotlines. Equally important, Katsushika and Urasawa don’t take any narrative shortcuts on the way to revealing whodunnit, granting the reader the same delicious sense of closure characteristic of Midsomer Murders — or, I might add, Alfred Hitchcock Presents. Recommended.

A review copy was provided by VIZ Media.

MASTER KEATON, VOL. 11 • STORY BY HOKUSAI KATSUSHIKA AND NAOKI URASAWA, ART BY NAOKI URASAWA • TRANSLATED BY JOHN WERRY • VIZ MEDIA • RATING: TEEN+ (OLDER TEENS) • 318 pp.

Requiem of the Rose King, Vol 6

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Requiem of the Rose King Volume 6 by Aya Kanno

My only minor quibble with this series is that as it progresses, I sometimes have difficulty telling all the blonde Englishmen apart. However, once I’m further into each volume I start remembering the more subtle aspects of Kanno’s character designs and then I can tell who is who.

One of the themes of this series is the brutality of war and the psychological cost associated with making kings, both with those who seek power through manipulation and the kings themselves who end up as pawns in a bigger game of statesmanship. Richard and Henry have found a peace with each other that is utterly separate from their hidden identities as opposing Tudor and Yorks. While Richard as the central character of this manga is undoubtedly fascinating, I enjoyed the way this volume focused on the kingmakers Buckingham and Warwick, their varying relationships with Richard and the hazards of trying to seize power through putting someone forward for the throne.

Kanno’s artistic and surreal portrayal of Richard’s psychological torment and the horrors of war is a highlight in this series. The battle that Richard fights is made even more confusing by a fog that envelops the troops, causing the soldiers to be uncertain if they are fighting their own side or the enemy. As Richard heads towards the vengeance he desires for the death of his beloved father, he’s going to be even more overset when he finds out just who his Henry really is. It always feels like there’s quite a long wait between volumes, but this is one series that I’m going to be rereading from start to finish as soon as the final volume comes out, just to be able to get swept up in this fascinating story again.

Paying to Win in a VRMMO, Vol. 3

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

The afterword mentions that this volume’s story was not part of the original webnovel, but was especially written for the books in order to try to flesh out Sakurako/Kirschwasser’s character, as she doesn’t get much to do in the main series. She gets a lot more to do here, and I like her determination and devotion to the game, but I wish that we’d gotten a little bit more of the mysterious backstory she has – it’s hinted she’s “had a rough life”, but that doesn’t really go anywhere, and we don’t have any flashbacks to how she met Ichiro. The author, in the afterword, notes that Sakurako’s age was a factor – not with him, but with the editors, who apparently think that being a Christmas Cake makes you unable to be a heroine. Bleah. That said, her scenes were good, even if the novel, understandably, feels like it’s just marking time.

The fight between Nem and Iris occupies most of this volume, and you feel frustration with both of them, though obviously far more with Nem. I kept feeling a sort of tension regarding their real-life identities – given Megumi’s irrational jealousy of Iris, finding out her real-life identity would be catastrophic, as she can and would destroy Iris’ life. Fortunately, this is likely not that serious a series, and instead the whole confrontation seems to be more of an object lesson than anything else. As for Iris, when she’s putting herself down adn indecisive she shows off her actual age – ironically, it’s only when tearing Ichiro apart verbally that she really comes alive, and I’m pleased that any romance, if there is any, is far away – I much prefer Iris wondering why on earth everybody else falls for him.

Ichiro himself spends most of this volume in the real world, meeting with the creator of Narrow Fantasy Online and also talking about his worldview with an AI that is one of the game’s sysadmins. This section serves more as setup for future volumes than anything else, but it does feature Ichiro being far less irritating than he was in the first two books. That said, his lack of presence in the game until the very end means that there’s not as much ‘parody’ in this story that’s meant to parody a certain type of genre, even if you add in obvious fanservice like the return of the Kirihitters. The main thing I enjoyed about this volume are the small details that come up throughout the book- I won’t go into specifics, but a description here, a character reveal there. It’s the sort of volume where the little things distract you more than the main plot and thrust of the book itself, which – as I said above – feels like it’s treading water. Which it is, that’s what it was designed to do.

So this is still a solid, but not great series. I hope the next volume features more of Ichiro being ludicrous and Iris screaming at him, which let’s face it is why I read this by now.

After Hours, Vol. 1

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By Yuhta Nishio. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hibana. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by Abby Lehrke.

There is something of a history in yuri manga of the protagonists realizing their feelings for each other while still in school. Sometimes it’s just them, sometimes we get another couple, and sometimes everyone in the school seems to be gay, but the theme is “students”. After Hours, therefore, with its relationship between a shy 24-year-old college graduate and the 30-year-old DJ she meets at a club, is a breath of fresh air for no reason other than the fact that it’s about two adults. Fortunately, there’s a lot more to it than just that, and in fact the ‘yuri’ part of the volume is touched on a lot less than it is in those school stories. These two meet, hook up that evening, and any angst or worry they have has nothing to do with the fact that they’re both girls. It’s great to see.

Emi is the blonde on the cover, and she and her friend are going out clubbing, something Emi is not really wild about. She’s even less wild when her friend hooks up immediately and leaves her to fend for herself. Luckily she’s saved by Kei, who works at said club. The first chapter may have been a one-shot that got turned into a series, as it’s really simple: they get on, Kei invites her to come over and look at her etchings… erm, collection of old records, and things end up progressing from there. Even the morning after, aside from a brief “OMG what did I just do!” look from Emi, is really sweet. Most of the rest of the first volume stays at that simmer, though it’s apparent that when Vol. 2 comes out there may be a bit more angst and drama. Emi is unemployed at the start, and dialogue hints that she’s living in an apartment with a guy… who she’s in the process of breaking up with. Much of this happens on the edges of the story, as Emi is understandably reluctant to bring this up with Kei, though she tries once or twice.

The other reason to read this manga is the excellent look it gives into Japanese club culture. Kei is a DJ, and shows Emi how to be a VJ and provide images for her songs about halfway through the book. It shows the fun and rush of doing these things, while a flashback of Kei’s shows how difficult it can be as well, particularly when you’re just starting out. (Kei is very laid-back and knowing for most of the present day stuff, and it’s nice to see that she used to be a ball of pent-up frustration and anger.) There’s a large group of clubbers here, almost all men, but they seem nice (accidental Jagermeister shots aside), and also seem to understand that Emi and Kei are in a relationship without it ever being brought up. After Hours is a yuri title, but the yuri in the first volume seeks, for once, to make things LESS awkward – Emi and Kei bond very fast, much faster than I think they would have if Kei had been a man. I really enjoyed the first volume, and hope Vol. 2 comes out soon (it’s not out in Japan yet, I believe.)

In Another World With My Smartphone, Vol. 3

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

The author and reader are clearly settling in for the long haul here in this third volume of Smartphone. ON the author’s end, he’s become aware that he wants to tell a long, convoluted (if ridiculous) story, so is starting to add more key backstory and introduce characters who may not obviously influence the plot right away. Indeed, he goes a bit too far in the other direction – the new possible villain or possible ally, Kaworu… um, sorry, Ende… is casually introduced, implied to be important to both the past and present of this world, and then just goes away for the rest of the book. I’m all for foreshadowing, but again, Smartphone guy is keeping it real and making it as thuddingly obvious as possible. Fortunately, the rest of Smartphone is also the same as always, which means totally ridiculous and compulsively readable.

On the cover, as you can see, we have Sakura from Sakura Taisen… erm, Yae, whose country we visit at the start of the book. This allows Touya to singlehandedly put down a war with nothing but a few swipes from his phone – even finding out some of his foes are undead and can’t be killed by his normal go-to means is only a prelude to him trying something even more ludicrous and over the top, which works a charm, of course. He also manages to take out another “Monarch”, this one being a twofer combo of Gamera and a giant snake. Naturally, they soon become adorable plushie versions of themselves, as Touya owns them so hard the entire harem thinks he’s being too cruel. He gains access to a floating Garden of Babylon, complete with a gynoid servant who is easily the nest addition in the book. Touya’s main harem are all just as pure as he is, so a deadpan robot girl who constantly makes sexual innuendo and comes on to him was desperately needed. Unlike the stupid extra story from the last book, I don’t mind Cesca at all because both her dialogue and Touya’s reactions to same are entirely in character.

Speaking of the harem, I admit to being rather surprised at how fast things are advancing on that front. Clearly the author has realized that a) there’s no point in dragging out the ‘will they confess?’ any longer given that they’re all too pure to go any further than kissing anyway, and b) given this is a world where it’s OK to take up to 20 wives provided you can in fact be rich enough to support 20 wives, ‘who is best girl?’ is mostly irrelevant anyway. I was impressed with Linze for taking the advantage on the kissing front, showing off that she may be shy most of the time but is secretly the bolder of the twins. I was a bit less thrilled with Yumina basically already admitting that Sue, her little girl cousin, will also be part of the harem once she grows up, but I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. I was also amused that he asked advice from God (remember this all started with God?) on how to deal with this, and gets a pep talk not only from the main God but also the God of Love, who judging by the illustration and behavior, is Marielle from Log Horizon.

One of the themes of this book is that Touya completely does not realize how ridiculously OP and amazing he is, because he tends to think of it as “I did very little to achieve this, therefore it wasn’t all that great”. Combine that with him not realizing why the girls all like him, and he’s very much harem protagonist material. That said, it’s the rare harem novel that actually takes the hero aside and literally has two gods telling him he’s being foolish and to try being a bit more selfish once in a while. That brings me to my last shuddering realization about this series: I can’t in good conscience call it bad anymore. Yes, it is terminally ridiculous (the scene where our hero builds an entire hot spring for the hotel he used to stay in in approximately five minutes may set a new record for laughable), and the lead is such a ridiculously overpowered twink that anyone who takes isekai seriously will be grinding their teeth, but by god, it’s fun.

Uncomfortably Happily

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Uncomfortably HappilyCreator: Yeon-sik Hong
Translator: Hellen Jo
U.S. publisher: Drawn & Quarterly
ISBN: 9781770462601
Released: June 2017
Original release: 2012
Awards: Manhwa Today Award

Lately it seems as though there has been something of a renaissance or Korean literature in English translation. Korean comics haven’t yet experienced quite the same kind of resurgence, but they do continue to be licensed and translated. One of the most recent and notable manhwa releases in English is Yeon-sik Hong’s aptly named Uncomfortably Happily. Previously published in France in 2013 under the title Historie d’un Couple (History of a Couple), Uncomfortably Happily was originally released in Korea in two volumes in 2012 where it won the Manhwa Today Award. Drawn and Quarterly’s English-language edition of the work collects the entirety of Uncomfortably Happily in a single volume and features a translation by Hellen Jo, an accomplished comics creator and illustrator in her own right. The volume also includes a personal essay by Jo. Uncomfortably Happily is Hong’s first major personal work, a memoir of the short time he and his wife lived in the Korean countryside. Prior to its release, Hong was predominantly involved in commercial creative projects.

Yeon-sik Hong and Sohmi Lee are recently married and looking for a new home; their current apartment is on loan to Yeon-sik from one of his previous publishers and it’s past time that they move on. Since they’ll need to leave anyway, the couple decides to take the opportunity to find a place that’s more suited to their needs. Somewhere quiet and less complicated, congested, and expensive than city life in Seoul; somewhere they can both focus on their creative work. Eventually the two become enamored with a house and a bit of land for rent on the top of a mountain in rural Pocheon. With the clean air, beautiful countryside, and calm environment it seems like the perfect place for them–at least at first. Yeon-sik, Sohmi, and their three cats make the move only to discover that living in the country brings along with it its own sorts of challenges. But despite the isolation, inadequate public transportation, confrontations with hostile hikers, inclement weather, and encroaching development, they slowly build a home for themselves. It can be difficult at times, though, and some things never really change–financial hardship, personal anxieties, and looming deadlines don’t simply disappear and it’s just as easy to find distractions in the countryside as it is in the city.

Uncomfortably Happily, page 131Though I currently live in a more urban environment, I grew up and have spent most of my life in a very rural area. In Uncomfortably Happily, Hong captures beautifully what it is like to live in the country, both the good and the bad, the satisfaction and the stress. The volume’s chapters are divided by season, the narrative perfectly conveying the rhythms of the natural world and the lifestyle that is so closely dependent upon those rhythms, including the winters that seem to last forever with no relief in sight. Hong’s style of illustration is relatively simple but the attention given to the detail of the land- and cityscapes establish a real sense of place. In addition to the external world, the visuals in Uncomfortably Happily also reveal Hong’s internal mindscapes and imaginative fantasies. Though the subject matter can often be quite serious, Hong takes a charming and lighthearted approach. The small family (animals included) frequently break into musical numbers and Hong’s psyche manifests on the page in both amusing and affecting ways. But while humor is generally present in Uncomfortably Happily, the manhwa is also a sincere and honest work.

Uncomfortably Happily is a straightforward yet layered story of the day-to-day life of a newlywed couple going through a major transition in their life. There is the move to the countryside itself and all that entails, but Uncomfortably Happily is also the story about Hong’s emotional and mental turmoil as he struggles with professional and personal insecurities. At the beginning of Uncomfortably Happily Hong is already approaching burnout and the potential for a breakdown doesn’t seem to be very far behind; meanwhile Lee is making tremendous progress in her career as a picture book illustrator. It was bound to happen eventually regardless of location, but Hong having to confront and come to terms with his own abilities and limitations, wants and needs while living on a secluded mountaintop has a certain poetic appropriateness to it. While Hong’s particular situation and psychological journey are certainly unique, the themes explored in the manhwa are universal; Uncomfortably Happily is an engrossing and immensely relatable work.

Thank you to Drawn & Quarterly for providing a copy of Uncomfortably Happily for review.

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.