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The Girl from the Other Side: Siúil, a Rún, Vol. 1

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The Girl from the Other Side: Siúil, a Rún, Volume 1Creator: Nagabe
Translator: Adrienne Beck
Adapter: Ysabet Reinhardt MacFarlane
U.S. publisher: Seven Seas
ISBN: 9781626924673
Released: January 2017
Original run: 2016

The Girl from the Other Side: Siúil, a Rún by Nagabe was easily one of my most anticipated manga debuts of 2017. Nagabe is known as a creator of somewhat unusual or unorthodox manga, The Girl form the Other Side easily fitting into that category. (Nagabe’s work was actually first brought to my attention thanks to a series of beautifully drawn boys’ love doujinshi featuring birds.) The first volume of The Girl from the Other Side was originally published in Japan in 2016, while the English-language edition was released by Seven Seas early in 2017. The quality of the physical release is admittedly a little disappointing–the cover stock feels ephemeral and ink tends to smudge and transfer between pages (granted, this does at least seem to be thematically appropriate)–but I’m thrilled that The Girl from the Other Side is being translated at all. It’s also worth noting that the manga does share some obvious parallels with another unusual series, Kore Yamazaki’s The Ancient Magus’ Bride, but even considering their similarities they are quite different from each another.

Once upon a time, two kingdoms existed in a world divided into the Outside and the Inside. Humans live on the Inside behind a wall intended to keep the monstrous Outsiders and the dark curse associated with them at bay. Coming into contact with an Outsider is to be avoided at all costs; to do otherwise means risking ones’ life and humanity. But the darkness of the Outside is slowly encroaching upon the light of the Inside. Humans are succumbing to a cursed disease and are abandoning entire villages as they unsuccessfully try to flee from it. Out of fear and suspicion, people have started to turn against one another in a desperate effort to survive. In the midst of this turmoil is a young girl, Shiva. Unexpectedly left behind in an area which is now considered a part of the Outside, she is waiting to be reunited with her family. In a peculiar twist of fate, Shiva is being guarded and cared for by an inhuman Outsider who she simply calls “Teacher.” The circumstances are unusual and dangerous for them both as Shiva’s safety becoming more and more difficult to guarantee the longer she remains on the Outside, set apart from others.

The Girl from the Other Side: Siúil, a Rún, Volume 1, page 32The fact that Shiva’s very life is in danger is clear from the beginning of The Girl from the Other Side. As a sort of prologue, the manga opens with her being warned of the curse brought by the touch of an Outsider while the first panel of the story-proper shows her lying listless on the stump of a tree. She has only fallen asleep, but the visual cues of the scene are closely reminiscent of death. An ominous feeling of uncertainty–is Shiva actually alive or is she dead, how much of her world is real and how much of it is a fairytale–pervades The Girl from the Other Side. Shiva is young enough that she doesn’t completely understand everything that is happening to her and doesn’t know enough to be afraid. But as she experiences more her awareness grows, even when Teacher tries to shield her from life’s harsher realities. Likewise, readers gain more knowledge as the underlying truths of Shiva’s situation are slowly revealed. However, they don’t have Teacher to soften the blows for them. To some extent Shiva’s innocence protects her from the tragedy and heartbreak inherent to The Girl from the Other Side which is so obvious from an outside perspective.

The Girl from the Other Side is incredibly atmospheric, a beautiful and surprisingly gentle and charming story which simultaneously manages to be disconcerting and unsettling. The series is very dark, in both theme and illustration. There is a tremendous amount of ink on the manga’s pages–the oppressive shadow of death which haunts the story is reinforced visually, the darkness permeating the scenes. Shiva, with her light-colored hair and dressed in white, stands apart from the unwelcoming environment. She is obviously out of place, separate from what is around her. In contrast, Teacher is clothed in black and at times is barely discernible from the background. But although an Outsider and demonic in form, Teacher is Shiva’s only hope, trying to safeguard her from anyone who would seek to do her harm. Their strange yet sweet and endearing relationship is core to The Girl on the Other Side. The life that they have, no matter how impermanent, carries great weight as they face an uncertain future together. The Girl from the Other Side is a gorgeous and striking work; I can’t wait for the next volume to be released.

Is It Wrong To Try To Pick Up Girls In A Dungeon?, Vol. 8

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

I knew going in that this was going to be a short-story collection, but it turns out that’s not quite true. What it is is more “A day in the life” – there’s still an overarching plot going on, and stories do affect other stories, but each of the six main stories is also self-contained and stars a specific member of Hestia Familia. Omori said that he wanted to write stories about love in this volume, which may make some readers cringe, and rightly so. DanMachi works best when the harem romance is used as a spice, in my opinion, and this is definitely a heaping helping of main course romance. That said, I have an easy way to tell whether you’ll enjoy a story or not – the longer the story, the better it is.

Unfortunately, that means the book begins with its worst story. I’ve never been a fan of “we’re not blood related so it’s not really incest” stories, and so Mikoto’s crush on her adoptive God father Takemikazuchi merely aggravated me, especially as it’s surrounded by a host of other cliches. I suspect the author meant it to be the funny one of the group. Eina’s story involved Bell protecting her from a stalker, but was probably the most boring of the stories, much like its female lead (sorry, Eina). Syr’s story was all right, but it teased that it was going to finally show off how she was related to Freya – fan rumor suggested she IS Freya, but that seems unlikely – but left things a bit too vague to be satisfying.

The longer stories fare much better. Lilly and Hestia are the only characters who get to definitively talk about their love for Bell openly in the series, and we see that love being put to the test on Lilly’s end, as not only has the rest of the group been told about Bell’s special skills (and thus that his stats are literally driven by his love of Ais), but she’s feeling useless in the dungeon as well, and ends up with a huge case of self-hatred (which honestly is always sort of boiling beneath the surface of Lilly). Help comes in the form of Finn, who is not only the only other hobbit – sorry, prum – in the book, but also far more savvy about romance (well, except for the advances of the amazon with the crush on him). As for Welf, his is the least romantic story in the book, though we see his respect for Hephaistos borders on love, and she also loves seeing his growth. Welf actually drives the main plot, as his magic sword skills are now well known – and people are trying to use them for evil.

The final story stars Hestia, Bell and Ais, and I enjoyed it a great deal as well, though a brief caveat that people who dislike jealous, petty Hestia will probably dislike it a bit more. That said, Bell finally seems to be catching a clue about how Hestia feels about him, though it’s not clear whether he’ll actually do anything about that. (Finn mentions harems to him at one point, but I honestly don’t think this is going to be that kind of series.) As for Ais, she’s showing a lot more emotion in her own stoic way than she ever has before, and we see her as furious as she ever gets when seeing how a reclusive village worships an ancient dragon. I suspect this may be related to backstory we’ll get more of in Sword Oratoria.

So in the end a bit of a mixed bag, but still well worth reading for fans of the series, especially if you like Lilly, Welf, or Hestia. There’s a bit of a tease for the next book at the end, and I sense we’re about to get a more serious arc next. Perhaps with a more normal focus on action rather than romance?

Princess Jellyfish, Vol. 4

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By Akiko Higashimura. Released in Japan in two separate volumes as “Kuragehime” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Kiss. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Sarah Alys Lindholm.

I’ve mentioned before that I read this book more for Kuranosuke than Tsukimi, mostly as I keep waiting for everything to come crashing down on him and it just hasn’t yet. Kuranosuke is a giant whirling ball of poor impulse control, and while most of the time this is channeled in a good direction, and I do like that he’s helping the others in his own way, I always grit my teeth a bit when the moral seems to be “consequences are for other people!”. We get a bit of backstory as to how he came to the mansion as a child, and a bit more insight into the relationship he has with his older brother. I liked this, it makes sense for the character. Best of all, though, we have several moments, especially in the second half of the book, where Kuranosuke is thrown off his game, and forced to actually deal with unplanned things. He really shines then.

Speaking of the second half of the book, Nisha is a highly welcome breath of fresh air, and provides a dose of reality to the series that is desperately needed, as Kuranosuke has his head in the clouds just as much as Amars seems to. In particular, they are reminded that if they expect to make any money at all, Tsukimi’s jellyfish dresses need to be priced as haute couture, which is to say way, way above anything that the Amars crew could ever afford. We get a visit to an outlet store for expensive clothing, and while Tsukimi remains horrified, it really is a good object lesson in how the other half lives. She is not the target market for her dresses – people like the rick old ladies who came to the fashion show are. It will be interesting to see how well the dresses succeed in future books.

As you’d expect, there’s also lots of other things going on in these two volumes. Tsukimi and Shu get closer, even as she still has tremendous trouble dealing with a man AS a man (Kuranosuke dressing as a woman helps), and the residence is still very much on the chopping block, which gives Inari a chance to give a magnificently villainous speech tearing down Tsukimi – it’s cliched by design, and after all, if it does what it intended, why not use the cliche? That said, I think Tsukimi will be fighting back soon thanks to her fellow neighbors, who now that they know the strength of their resolve are prepared to bring them in to the protest fold.

There’s more tiny little character moments – I loved Jiji agreeing to run operations for the newly minted Jellyfish fashion business, if only as it gave her something to do for the first time in the entire series. Essentially, Princess Jellyfish’s fourth volumes shows the work of an assured manga artist continuing to draw us into the world of fashion and introverts, and you eagerly read on to see what happens next.

The Girl From the Other Side: : Siúil, A Rún Vol. 1

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The Girl From the Other Side: Siúil, A Rún Volume 1 by Nagabe

This title from Seven Seas is totally the opposite of what I tend to expect from the publisher. The Girl From the Other Side is a fascinating dark fairy tale that has overtones of a philosophical thought experiment, while still presenting the reader with compelling art and characters.

Shiva lives with her teacher, a man with an affliction who appears to be half-man, half beast. They live in a house and venture out to an abandoned village to forage for food and household items. Shiva thinks that her aunt is going to appear soon to pick her up, but she’s actually been abandoned and her teacher can’t bring himself to tell her. There’s a divide between the remains of humanity, who seem to have retreated behind walls, and the land overtaken by “The Others”, people who have been cursed or perhaps contracted some sort of disease that robs them of their humanity.

Shiva’s teacher attempts to keep some sort of regular routine, and while Shiva runs around like the extremely resilient little girl that she is, the reader is filled with a growing sense of unease as more and more of her world is filled in. Is food going to run out at some time? Why are The Others, or anyone suspected of being in contact with them hunted down and killed? Is Shiva’s teacher different from the rest of The Others, and how did that manage to happen? How has Shiva even managed to survive up until this point? I haven’t read a manga before that manages to blend heartwarming slice of life moments with supernatural horror, but The Girl From the Other Side pulls it off masterfully. I’m not actually sure yet if The Others should be dreaded quite as much as the humans who are attempting to defend their society from them though.

The art in The Girl From the Other Side fits the themes of the story perfectly. Instead of a more generic or commercial style, Nagabe’s illustrations are filled with dark cross-hatching and tones that give the panels a feeling of an antique woodcut. Shiva is rendered almost entirely in white, providing a visual counterweight to the dark backgrounds. Shiva’s teacher is rendered in darkness, with the details of his face difficult to discern, making the condition of “The Others” seem more mysterious and frightening.

There’s an all ages rating on this manga, which I find odd. While there might be no sexual content and not much overt violence, the themes of the manga are both grim and emotionally challenging, and it isn’t a manga I would recommend for all audiences. That being said, this is one of the most unique and well-executed manga that I’ve read in quite some time, and I highly recommend it.

Sword Art Online, Vol. 10: Alicization Running

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By Reki Kawahara and abec. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Stephen Paul.

If the 7th Sword Art Online novels felt rushed because we weren’t used to the pace of a single volume story, then this book has the opposite issue. Alicization Running is filled with cool scenes, exposition, and character development, but it is the very definition of “Part 2 of 10” – it doesn’t stand on its own as a novel, really. For those who expected we’d see Kirito and Eugeo reuniting with Alice in this book, she’s barely even mentioned except as a goal, because to get to her they have to become Knights, which means winning a tournament, which means going through sword training school, which means winning ANOTHER tournament. Kawahara is stretching this out, for good or ill. Fortunately, it’s partly good – this is still readable, and by now I hope the average Sword Art Online reader takes Kirito’s success with a sword for granted and does not grind their teeth at it.

The other good news is that the first third or so of this book is devoted to Asuna in the real world, who is trying to figure out what happened to Kirito, who is not, as we may have expected, in a hospital but has instead completely vanished. We do eventually find out where he is, with a lot of seeming villains who are really helping out heroes and the like. We also get more of one of my least favorite things in Sword Art Online – praising Akihiko Kayaba, the villain of the first arc who condemned thousands to death, but is really just a misunderstood man with a dream, something that even Asuna says she can respect, which just makes me shake my head. Unfortunately, the rest of Asuna’s section is taken up with huge swaths of technobabble as Kikuoka explains what they’re trying to do here, why they’re trying to do it, and why Kirito is here. Some of those explanations are a bit disturbing – the author even has to remind us in the afterword that he does not necessarily agree with his characters (I’m guessing he’s meaning the use of DELICIOUS TASTY BABY SOULS).

Meanwhile, Kirito’s having an adventure, and while he does think of Asuna and the others, and misses them, his focus is on getting to the central capitol. This involves a lot of showing off, because this is Kirito after all, as well as forging him an amazing weapon that can be the equal of the sword Eugeo possesses (which is a black blade almost identical to his Aincrad one). He also gets to face off in a battle with the #1 swordsman at the school… who sadly is not the young woman on the cover. She’s the second strongest swordsman, and the plot is set up to build to a final battle against her that never happens. I’d like to say it’s not just because she’s a woman, but let’s be honest, it probably is. As always, Kirito is at his most interesting when he’s upset or something goes wrong, such as when his classmates’ petty bullying and destruction leads him to the literal power of prayer to fix things (fortunately, this is a gaming world, so it succeeds).

I wish we had more of Eugeo, who’s a nice sweet kid but not much else – he got far more development last time. As for the regulars who aren’t Kirito or Asuna, well, Leafa and Sinon get to have a confab with Asuna at the start of the book, but Lisbeth and Silica are reduced to begging on the back cover. Yui actually fares better than they do – her discussion of AIs, and how in the end she isn’t the amazingly self-aware fairy daughter she appears to be, is well-written and also chilling. This is a necessary volume of Sword Art Online if you want to read more of Alicization, but by itself it’s a bit frustrating. Recommended for fans of the series, but I’m hoping for a bit of a Turning point next time…

Also, Kirito spends most of the book being protected by invisible sentient head lice, who I can’t help but picture as Jiminy Cricket. I just want to throw that out there.

Flying Witch, Vol. 1

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If you’ve dipped a toe in the online dating world, you’ve undoubtedly arranged a date with someone who turned out to be pleasant, polite, and attractive, but not terribly interesting. I had a similar experience with volume one of Flying Witch, a manga that looked promising but lacked the necessary spark of weirdness or wit to make it worth a second chance.

Flying Witch has a simple but fertile premise: Makoto Kowata, a teenage witch-in-training, moves from Yokohama to her cousins’ farm and enrolls in the local high school. Though Makoto’s parents warned her not to reveal her true identity to other people, Makoto blithely confesses her avocation to peers and strangers alike, almost always without prompting.

That running gag is indicative of what works — and what doesn’t — in Flying Witch. In the manga’s best scenes, artist Chihiro Ishizuka wryly juxtaposes the banality of the setting with the strangeness of Makoto’s witchcraft, whether Makoto is test-driving brooms at the local supermarket or pulling up a mandrake from an abandoned field. In these moments, Makoto’s enthusiasm overwhelms her desire to escape detection; she’s astonished that her classmate Nao recoils from the noisy, squirming mandrake, and begins regaling Nao with a list of its medicinal uses in an effort to explain why mandrakes, are in fact, awesome gifts.

In other scenes, however, the punchline is toothless, coming at the end of a long monologue about witchcraft or a chance encounter with a villager who isn’t the least bit scandalized by Makoto’s true calling. Makoto’s blushing and stammering is overplayed to diminishing returns; any reasonable person would wonder why Makoto hasn’t realized that her big secret isn’t a big deal. The same is true for other recurring “jokes” about Makoto’s terrible sense of direction, which are as unfunny on the third or sixth iteration as they were on the first.

The artwork, like the script, is lackluster. Though Ishizuka’s lines are clean and her layouts easy to read, the characters’ blank faces do little to sell the jokes. Chinatsu, Makoto’s ten-year-old cousin, is one of the few characters to register any emotional response to Makoto’s behavior, reacting with a mixture of saucer-eyed fear and astonished exuberance. The rest of the characters drift through the story without much purpose, functioning more like props or set decoration than actual people. Only cameo appearances by the aforementioned mandrake root and the Harbinger of Spring inject the proper note of piquant strangeness to the proceedings, reminding us that Makoto’s existence straddles the fence between the ordinary and the supernatural.

I wish I liked Flying Witch more, as it has all the right ingredients to be a quirky, fun series. Alas, reading Flying Witch is like having dinner with a handsome bore who collects vintage lunch boxes or builds crystal radios; you just know there’s a good story there, but it never comes across in the telling.

FLYING WITCH, VOL. 1 • BY CHIHIRO ISHIZUKA • VERTICAL COMICS • NO RATING (SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES)

Fruits Basket Collector’s Edition, Vol. 12

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By Natsuki Takaya. Released in Japan by Hakusensha, serialized in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Sheldon Drzka.

At last we come to the end of one of the most influential manga series out there, at least in North America. Fruits Basket brought so many new people into the fandom, and also made so many more want to create. It was almost like lightning in a bottle – Takaya’s two series after this are good but did not have nearly the same amount of popularity, and the less said about Fruits Basket Another the better. But Fruits Basket itself is compulsively re-readable, incredibly emotional, and thoroughly satisfying, even if it is also flawed, as this last volume so amply shows. The curse is now broken, but the aftermath still needs to be dealt with, and nothing is going to be the same again.

My favorite moments in the book were the things that didn’t quite happen, even though they should have in order to provide closure. Akito attempts to apologize to the rest of the zodiac, but can’t quite pull off the words, instead giving what amount to exit interviews to most everyone as she deals with her tortured feelings for Shigure, who is at last willing to reciprocate them, since they’re entirely on his own terms now. The Shigure/Akito relationship is easily the most problematic of the series, and trust me that’s saying something. It leaves me with a vague sense of emotional dissatisfaction, even as it makes the most sense in story terms. Takaya even says she felt a bit uncomfortable with it. Meanwhile, Rin is looking at everyone else smiling and moving on and wondering why she’s still filled with rage and hatred. Healing is something that happens different ways for everyone, and it doesn’t have to happen overnight, especially when you’ve been abused as much as Rin has. And the Sohma’s head maid is offered a chance to help Akito forge a new path with the Sohma Family… and walks away from it, unable to let go of the past, in one of the starkest and best moments in the volume.

As for the main cast, everyone gets a brief few pages to show how they’ve changed and grown, and also to show that almost everyone is now romantically paired. You have to feel bad for Momiji and Kagura – if you’re going to pair everyone up in the most cliched way possible, why not simply go all the way? In general, the more attention paid to the couple during the manga itself, the better the scene – Kyo and Tohru get the bulk of the pages, obviously. Some pairings are a bit last minute hookup, like Hatori and Mayu. And some pairings feel like a gag taken one step too far, like Kazuma and Hanajima, where you get the sense that Takaya simply finds the idea of this too funny to not go through with, even though it doesn’t really work. It’s also nice to see Shigure’s editor happy at last, but again, this reads like connecting the dots. Fruits Basket works best when the romance is focused on Kyo and Tohru.

The second half of the omnibus, as predicted, was a sort of combination of various parts of the two fanbooks, showing off favorite scenes/pairings/characters along with some discussion of clothing and the like. There’s also an interview with Takaya that was done recently, where she looks back at the series. I don’t think the extra content is worth buying in and of itself. But if you want to upgrade your old Tokyopop paperbacks, and don’t mind that the series has a noticeably different translation (“you did your best”, FYI) , you should absolutely get this, and relive a magical shoujo classic. Also, the second to last chapter still makes me cry every single time.

Konosuba: God’s Blessing on This Wonderful World!: Love, Witches & Other Delusions

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By Natsume Akatsuki and Kurone Mishima. Released in Japan as “Kono Subarashii Sekai ni Shukufuku o!: Chūnibyō demo Majo ga Shitai!” by Kadokawa Sneaker Bunko. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Kevin Steinbach.

First of all, I would like to state, for the record, that it was Yen On’s decision not to use an oxford comma in the subtitle. I am merely replicating their choice. And if you think that’s a somewhat silly way to start a review, then you’re clearly not the right audience for KonoSuba, whose second light novel is content to replicate the choices of its first, showing that it is quite happy to have its dysfunctional cast behave badly in hilarious ways. Kazuma whines and moans (and tries to get laid with a succubus, which works about how you’d expect); Aqua is the brattiest goddess you’ll ever see (indeed, the book begins with a much nicer example); Megumin cares about explosions and nothing else, and Darkness’ masochism is in full force. There’s a hint the next book will advance what passes for a plot, but in the meantime, enjoy the antics.

The book starts off on the right foot – indeed, it may be my favorite part – with a story about a foolish young man, seeing Kazuma surrounded by hot girls and not much else, offering to switch parties with him for the day. Kazuma, who is no fool, accepts, and you’d think we’d stick with other guy and watch the fallout. But no, instead we follow Kazuma and see his normal day with a normal party. He uses his adventuring powers wisely, helps save the day, gains the respect of his teammates – it’s peaceful, heartwarming, and would no doubt be incredibly dull it it lasted any longer than it does. We then return and see the aftermath of Dust’s day with Aqua, Megumin, and Darkness… and yup, he’s begging to switch back. Predictable, but still hilarious.

Even when the book takes a turn for the slightly serious, there’s still gags lurking in the background. That’s a good thing, to be honest – this really isn’t a series you want to see depth and feeling in. Taking it too seriously would ruin the point. So when we get the climax with everyone fighting against the giant spider mecha with the bomb inside it, it’s undercut by the creator’s hilariously mopey diary about the building of the thing. There’s even some mild romance in this, though as ever I see the group as more of a family than anything else. When Kazuma requests a “dream visit” from a succubus, he’s clearly expecting Darkness based on his reactions – we’ve heard before that were it not for her masochism, she’s exactly his type – and Darkness’ atypical reactions seem to suggest she’s far more open to this than you’d expect a comedic harem girl to be. Of course, nothing comes of it…

The book ends on a cliffhanger, and the afterword is already announcing side-stories to be released (which have not, as of yet, been licensed here, I add for clarification). Clearly it was a runaway success in Japan. You can see why. It’s mocking a very popular Japanese light novel genre, and doing it well.

Toppu GP, Vol. 1

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By Kosuke Fujishima. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Afternoon. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

It is somewhat mindboggling that we did not arrive at this point a good 35 years ago. No one has put more effort into writing motorbikes into series that did not necessarily need a lot of motorbike attention as Kosuke Fujishima has. You’re Under Arrest was a buddy cop manga, but right from the start it was clear that both girls were about driving fast, and making their cars and bikes as fast as possible. Oh My Goddess! had goddesses, demons, heaven, hell, and so many motocross races it wasn’t even funny, to the point where entire volumes barely focused on anything but racing. Even minor series such as Paradise Residence or EX-Driver have found a way to show off bikes and souped-up engines. Yet somehow, Fujishima has never written a pure, modern-day racing manga until now. Can we blame Initial D?

For the most part, it’s been worth the wait. You can argue all you want that Fujishima sometimes skimps on characterization, but there’s no doubt the man knows how to write a race. The racing here is sort of like the dancing in Welcome to the Ballroom – exciting, understandable, fast, and it makes you want to find out more about it yourself. The hero, as you might guess from the title, is Toppu, a young kid who was just interested in building Gundam models and not much else. But he has two big things going for him to get him into the world of Grand Prix racing: a) an ability to analyze how to best race by merely watching others, and b) a massive crush on the girl next door, Myne, who’s a very talented GP rider and is convinced that Toppu could be even better. And, after finally getting on a bike to try it, he discovers a love of racing himself.

As you might guess from Toppu’s grumpy mug on the cover of this volume, he’s not exactly filled with the joy of everyday living. Myne makes up for that, being such a force of pure cuteness and verve that I had to check to make sure this wasn’t being written by Mitsuru Adachi. (Actually, like Adachi, I wonder if Myne might end up being a posthumous character as this goes on – Toppu’s “I hope you’re watching this” to the skies in the starting flashforward is ambiguous – but I suspect Fujishima is not the sort to kill off his cast quite like that.) She gets some development as well – when two brothers bend the rules in their favor to try to topple Toppu (say that three times fast), she goes after them in the next race out of pure vengeance – which she realizes, thankfully, pulling back and reminding herself of the joy of racing.

And really, that’s why you want to read this, more than the plot or characters. It is a giant love letter to motorbikes, their care and maintenance, and the way that they move around a track. I’m not sure when the next volume will be out – we’re already caught up with Japan – but I can’t wait for more.

The Asterisk War: The Phoenix War Dance

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By Yuu Miyazaki and okiura. Released in Japan by Media Factory. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Melissa Tanaka.

The Asterisk War, quality of writing or no, has a tendency to be overly cliched. Sometimes, in fact, it’s so cliched it actually throws me off my game and surprises me. We’re introduced to a pair of sisters here, who end up fighting Ayato and Julis towards the end of the book. Given that we first meet the older sister literally chained up in a subbasement, I expected her to be the barely controllable psycho one gets chained up in subbasements. As it turns out, she loves to fight, but is far nicer than it would seem (though she was right to ditch the weapon trying to overpower her mind). As for the younger sister, I naturally expected her to show that the sweet girl act was a facade, and that she was really the evil one and the brains of the outfit. Hope. She’s just as sweet as she seems, and is there to cook and be rescued. You can second guess yourself on how cliched this book can be.

This is not to say I did not enjoy the book – I did. It’s as deep as a puddle, but that’s not what I’m looking for. Actually, the one time I think that the book really succeeded in creeping me out was when Claudia (who gets the cover art this time) explains the price she pays for the ability to use her weapons, and what it does to almost everyone who isn’t her. One wonders just how much of the flirty yet manipulative student council president is an act – though probably not much, I’ve already learned my lesson on second guessing myself. As for the rest of the harem, Julis is tsundere, though as always it’s a mild case; Saya is cool and seemingly stoic, and Kirin is shy, and they all still like Ayato a lot. I suspect we can also add Priscilla by the end of this book. Ayato is, of course, completely unnoticing, not getting at all why the girls want him to rub their head.

As you may have gathered, we’ve entered the tournament arc part of the story, and it appears it’s going to last more than one book. This allows us to see Ayato and Julis curbstomp a few opponents into the ground, as we know that they’re going to make it close to the finals as, well, they’re the heroes. In fact, given Julis’ wish, I suspect they pretty much have to win. Not so for Saya and Kirin, and I was pleased to see that they also live to fight another novel. Of the new characters, easily the most memorable – even more than the sisters who are the focus of the book – are the two AI robots, who seem deliberately written to be cartoon cliches. In fact, their interaction reminded me a lot of The Poet and Sickle from the later Baccano books, though thankfully Ardy does not speak nearly as floridly as the Poet. They to pummel their way through the contest, and I suspect we’ll get a confrontation between them and our heroes soon.

To sum up, this book is much like the last two books – hilariously unoriginal and yet fun to read in spite of that. It’s the perfect book to take on a vacation – just be aware the books are short, you’ll likely need to take something else as well.

Duncan Kincaid and Gemma James, Books 5-8 by Deborah Crombie

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dreaming_of_bonesDreaming of the Bones
After making my way through the first four books in this series with reasonable alacrity, I really stalled out on Dreaming of the Bones at first. A large part of the problem for me was that it had to do with the death of a poet five years prior, and was thus strewn with quotations of both poetry and flowery letters.

Once I summoned the fortitude to continue, however, I ended up enjoying the book well enough. We are introduced to Victoria, Duncan’s ex-wife, and I appreciated that both of them are painted sympathetically. Their relationship falling apart was no one’s fault in particular, and both have the wisdom now to recognize that. Victoria is on the English faculty at Cambridge and is working on a book about poet Lydia Brooke, whose death was presumed to be suicide. Victoria suspects otherwise and Duncan (as usual) keeps an open mind about her instincts and agrees to look into things even though the local police are not exactly enthusiastic about him poking around.

Although I generally prefer stories where Duncan is assigned to the case of a stranger, Vic’s involvement did offer many emotional consequences for Duncan. Too bad there really weren’t any consequences for the rule-breaking and jurisdiction-trampling he engaged in throughout. Also, I really disliked that Gemma works out the big reveal through a spate of poetic interpretation. Ugh. At the same time, there’s a scene at the end that made me verklempt, so… not my favorite, but still definitely worth reading!

kissed_goodbyeKissed a Sad Goodbye
Duncan and Gemma are assigned to the case of a body found lovingly laid out in a park on the Isle of Dogs. They soon learn her identity—Annabelle Hammond, the beautiful and determined director of Hammond’s Fine Teas who has several lovers on the go. But is what happened to her the result of romantic jealousy, or could it be tied to something else entirely?

Two months have passed since the events of Dreaming of the Bones, and Duncan is still struggling with (spoiler alert!) his newfound fatherhood. The perspective, however, is mostly on Gemma, who is having some trouble figuring out what she wants and who she wants to be. Initially this manifests in a decision to take piano lessons, but soon involves another man.

Honestly, I failed to be convinced by Gemma’s little side romance with Gordon the clarinet-playing busker, who showed up in some earlier book in a greatly diminished capacity. I recall in his earlier appearance that he was brusque and uninterested, but here we get a retcon about how he was secretly intrigued by Gemma all along. It’s played up to be this mutual attraction that she must decide whether to pursue, but he’s just not accessible enough as a character to really make this convincing.

That said, I liked the mystery itself. There were flashbacks throughout to the ’40s, when some of the characters were evacuated to the countryside as children, and they not only elucidate the present but reveal one particular character to be more sympathetic than one might ordinarily assume. On the whole, definitely worth reading, even if there were parts of it I didn’t especially like.

finer_endA Finer End
A Finer End is somewhat tough to review, because I did genuinely like some of the characters that Duncan and Gemma encounter in Glastonbury, where they’ve traveled as a favor to Duncan’s cousin, Jack, whose vicar girlfriend has been injured in a hit-and-run accident. The problem is that Jack has supposedly been receiving messages from a long-dead monk in the form of automatic writing, a claim that Duncan and Gemma accept without question. On top of this, there’s a painter who receives visions not only of one particular little girl but also the whereabouts of the thing that the monk is trying to lead Jack to find. And because the narrative confirms the verity of these paranormal happenings, other elements of the story are thrown into question. Did the “old gods” and the tribute they’re due actually play a part in what happened, for example?

It’s not that I dislike stories about the supernatural; it’s that it’s really bizarre when the supernatural suddenly shows up in the seventh book of a series about Scotland Yard detectives. It also bothered me that the one character who’s a skeptic about all of this is a flagrant asshole who eventually comes unhinged. In addition, I dearly hope that the paternity of a particular child was supposed to be glaringly obvious to the reader, because it sure was. Too, the conclusion is muddled, and the final line was so incredibly cheesy that I actually said, “Barf!” out loud.

All in all, this was profoundly disappointing and I hope it doesn’t signify a new trend for the series.

justice_noneAnd Justice There Is None
It is with profound relief that I proclaim that I really, really liked this one! There are absolutely no supernatural elements whatsoever, thankfully, and the investigation itself is a change of pace, too. Instead of being dispatched to some bucolic locale on Scotland Yard business, a murder is committed in Notting Hill, where Gemma is now assigned as a Detective Inspector. Moreover, she and Duncan and their respective sons move into a house nearby, which puts her family in proximity to the crime and, ultimately, the culprit.

The case involves the wife of a well-off antiques dealer who recently discovered she was pregnant by her lover. Duncan recalls a similar killing that took place a month prior, so he and Gemma work together on the case. Interspersed throughout is the story of “Angel,” a young woman who is orphaned in the mid-sixties and finds herself swept up in the London drug scene. All of the pieces eventually come together, and even though there’s one clue that lets readers know who the murderer is before Gemma has figured it out, she doesn’t end up seeming slow on the uptake. Rather, it adds an extra layer of menace when the perpetrator just happens to be strolling past their new house and has a chat with Kit (Duncan’s son).

And oh, what a house. I love that Gemma and Duncan are establishing their own family, especially given the new addition on the way. I love, too, that the pets are 100% accounted for, and that Gemma adopts a sweet new dog. Best of all, though, is that it’s Christmas. Duncan’s present to Gemma makes both her and me verklempt. I also liked seeing Gemma and Duncan working with other people, and hope that some of the nice people she encountered in the neighborhood make appearances in future books.

Ghost Diary, Vol. 1

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By Seiju Natsumegu. Released in Japan as “Kaidan Nikki” by ASCII Media Works, serialized in the magazine Dengeki Daioh. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Krista Shipley, Adapted by Shannon Fay.

For a while now, there has been a war going on in manga, though some may not have noticed it. Here at Manga Bookshelf, though, we pride ourselves on observational skills, and have watched the fallout with much interest. I am referring, of course, to the battle between manga being licensed about yokai and manga being licensed about monster girls. Both seemingly involving the same thing, but in reality these are very different beasts. Monster Girl series, with one or two exceptions, show us various types of creatures living alongside humans in society, while yokai series tend to involve humans investigating said creatures as dangerous and mysterious phenomena. Ghost Diary ran in Dengeki Daioh, so honestly I was expecting the former, but make no mistake about it, this is a relatively serious work, and its dark turns surprised me.

The plot involves a group of high-school occultists who go around searching for mysterious things. That said, most of the club are there to fill out the cast, and the real stars are Kyouichi, a teen exorcists who is haunted by a tragic past, and Mayumi, the standard cardboard cutout tsundere who likes him. Kyouichi’s older sister disappeared after a battle with a yokai that was coming after Kyouichi himself, and he’s vowed to find her. Luckily, he has help. Unluckily, it’s the worst kind of help. Chloe is a grim reaper who seemingly wants to find Kyouichi’s sister as well so she can get her memories back, and offers to help him out when he needs it, to the point of moving into his house. Unfortunately for Kyouichi, Chloe is not going to be one of those quirky mentors you see so often in these sorts of series.

As you may have guessed by my brief snarkiness in the prior paragraph, I wasn’t all that impressed with the love interest in this series, and the rest of the club is also a bit underwhelming (even the shy girl who speaks through her doll has been done better elsewhere, though I admit the overweight yakuza is new). But make no mistake about it, you want to read this manga for the relationship between Kyouichi and Chloe, as she kills his friends (then resurrects them, to be fair), destroys what might otherwise have been a heartwarming chapter about a dead baker who was moved by Kyouichi’s sister, and otherwise behaves like she may be the villain of the series. But she may not be – certainly at times she does behave very much like the mentor she wants to be, and it’s unclear if she’s the antagonist of the whole series or just a horrible creature. I want to see more of her.

This series is not for everyone – the last chapter has some disturbing rape threats from a man trapped in the body of a prepubescent boy – but overall I was pleasantly surprised. This is a dark take on a genre that already gets pretty dark. And it’s only three volumes, so I’m definitely interested in finishing it. Let’s hope that Kyouichi can survive it.

Baccano!: 1932 Drug & The Dominoes

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

This was the final Baccano! light novel that was used in the 2007 anime adaptation, but even if you’ve seen the anime you should read this anyway, as it’s startling how much was left out and how much was changed. The anime needed a little bit more plot to add to its “let’s move back and forth between various time periods” style, and Eve’s subplot seemed to fit the bill. They had little to no use for Roy Maddock and his drug addiction, though, and so he was completely eliminated. Which is a shame, as while I have little use for Roy himself, who is not as interesting as virtually everyone else in this book, his girlfriend Edith is awesome, and having Roy also means we meet Kate Gandor, Keith’s wife – and actually hear Keith speak more than a few lines of dialogue!

Eve Genoard, younger sister to ne’er-do-well Dallas, is front and center on the cover, and I’d wager that she gets to have the hero’s journey here – as I said before, Roy is a bit too flat for me to really grant that to him. You could argue that Luck Gandor may also qualify – he’s worrying that he’s lost an essential humanity since becoming immortal, and it’s through dealing with Eve and the Runoratas that he comes to accept who he is now and realize that he hasn’t changed as much as he thought. He’s certainly unrepentant about what he did to Dallas – who, let’s remember, killed several men in the Gandor mafia clan – but he allows Eve a chance to possibly rescue Dallas from his watery grave. (Luck wonders why he was so soft-hearted, which is hilarious given that earlier in the book, all three Gandors were terrified about the idea of having to punish a woman, mafia-style, for betrayal – they end up giving her a haircut.)

This happens right after the last two books – in fact, the first third of it actually happens before the last two books, as it begins in late December 1931 and ends in early January 1932. And we do see characters from the previous books. Isaac and Miria have a smaller role than usual, but it’s their theft of the Gandor Family Fortune which sets most of this in motion, and their obsession with dominoes that gives us some more comedy, though I think it’s REALLY OBVIOUS that Narita only added that plot so he could use the title, which comes from Eric Clapton’s band Derek and the Dominoes. Firo spends most of the book grumbling and whining, which seems a bit out of character for him. And we also see a few people who look like they’re being introduced for future books, such as Tick, the Gandor family’s smiling torture specialist, and Maria, a walking Mexican stereotype who can’t stop saying “amigo” but who is a lot of fun anyway. The Daily Days also get a lot more here to do than usual, and the one morally dubious guy of their bunch gets his after a ride on the Rail Tracer express (not lethal, for once).

That said, the book ends with a sort of tragedy, and it involves another immortal who appears throughout the book – Begg, who seems to have been one of Maiza’s group who became immortal back in 1711. He’s now the Runorata family drug expert, and spends his years trying to perfect a drug that will make everyone live in their own happy world, with no problems or worries. Given the halting, jittery way he speaks, you get the feeling he’s tested a lot of drugs on himself. And, despite an attempt at a heartwarming scene with Czeslaw (which is also rife with foreshadowing), in the end we see him at the start of the 21st century, burned out in an institution, barely able to respond to Maiza. Immortals may live forever, but they can still damage their mind, and it’s sad to see, even if you question the entire premise of what Begg wanted to achieve.

All in all, a good addition to the series, with lots of fun stuff happening, though I don’t think it hits the heights of Book 2. Next time we’ll move forward a bit – quite a bit – and see what the cast is up to in 2001.

Yona of the Dawn, Vol. 5

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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.

In general, I’m always a bit wary of ‘chosen one’ narratives, which Yona of the Dawn is shaping up into being. The difficulty is striking a balance between following the chosen one because you know they will be a good person who can change the world, and following the chosen one out of a literal compulsion you can’t control that draws you to them. Yona of the Dawn tries to have this both ways, and I like that the new Dragon, Jaeha, is reluctant to follow his supposed destiny, being very happy being what he is, which is a showboating, girl-loving pirate with the classic Hana to Yume “sleepy eyes”. Of course, this is still a shoujo manga, and thus the cliffhanger has him running into Yona and immediately his heart skips a beat, because of course it does – if you’re going to write romance cliches, do them properly.

Meanwhile, as predicted, the Blue Dragon decides to come with them, and even gets named by Yona, who is, of course, still the Chosen One but balances this out by being caring and loving and sweet and nice, etc. Names turn out to be pretty important in this book, as the male cast who aren’t Hak gradually start to call Yona by her first name. Hak is an exception, though, and this is the best scene in the volume, as Yona tells him the reasons that she wants him to still call her “your highness” and treat her as royalty. It’s so that they don’t forget her father or what he did. This is immediately followed up with the heartbreaking revelation that most people in the country seem to regard the late King with contempt as a terrible King, much to Yona’s distress. (In reality, putting the distance between her and Hak may be authorial fiat – let’s face it, this is a reverse harem manga with an obvious endgame, and it’s best to delay it as much as possible.)

Most of this volume is, of course, the standard quest, as Yona and company continue wandering the land hunting for Dragon Warriors. This means that they have to stop and fight injustice whenever they can, of course, even if they’re supposed to keep a low profile (Yona’s red hair really does not help with stealth missions). The humor in this book is fairly predictable, mostly revolving around Hak’s inability to practice what he preaches, and everyone (including Yona) seeming to think that he spent time in a brothel, much to his frustration. Jaeha looks like an excellent addition to the cast, balancing nicely with the other guys’ personalities. This of course assumes that he does join the main cast, and I suspect the next volume will show us Yona trying to convince him of the righteousness of her cause.

In the end, this is another top-notch volume of Yona of the Dawn, which continues to be one of Shojo Beat’s best series.

Toppu GP, Vol. 1

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In a week when The Fate of the Furious is roaring into theaters, it seems only fitting that Kodansha is releasing the first volume of Toppu GP, a manga that extols the virtues of “family values and hot rides” almost as doggedly as Vin Diesel and the rest of his car-boosting gang. The similarities don’t end there, either: both series boast cartoonish villains, pretty girls in skimpy outfits, and dialogue so ham-fisted you could serve it for Easter dinner.

I love them both.

The “family” unit in Toppu GP consists of Toppu, the eleven-year-old hero; Myne, the local motorcycle racing champion; and Teppei, Toppu’s father. Toppu is a classic shonen type: he’s sullen, brilliant, and reluctant to try anything outside of his nerdy comfort zone. (He likes to build elaborate Gundam models.) There are hints, however, that Toppu is destined for the track: he accurately gauges Myne’s qualifying times without benefit of a stopwatch, for example, and instinctually rides to victory in his second race by copying Myne’s technique.

Myne, too, is a familiar type, the sexy “big sister” who squeals and fusses over a smart, promising boy a few years her junior. (Toppu even calls her “Big Sis,” emphasizing the degree to which she’s part of his “family.”) She strides around in a tight-fitting tracksuit dispensing advice and hugs to her protege, goading him to victory with bribes. And just in case we find her more competent than adorable, she suffers from one of those only-in-manga ailments: pathological clumsiness so acute it strains credulity.

The third family member is Teppei, a single parent who’s raising Toppu while writing a novel. Though Teppei professes to be working hard on his book, his actions suggest he’d rather hang out at the track than sit at a typewriter; he spends most of volume one playing coach and mechanic to his kids, dispensing wisdom about the art of motorcycle racing. Dad’s editor must be a forgiving guy.

In contrast to the characters, who are painted in broad strokes, the layouts are executed with thrilling precision. Veteran artist Kosuke Fujishima drops us into the action through deft use of perspective and speedlines, capturing the bikes’ velocity and the riders’ positions, as well as the sheer danger of high-speed maneuvers in close proximity. Fujishima complements these images with a handy primer on G-forces, using an invisible hand to show us what Toppu and Myne feel when they accelerate down a straightaway or bank a sharp turn at high speed:

Perhaps the most astonishing aspect of Fujishima’s layouts are their economy. While many shonen artists might be tempted to stretch Toppu’s racing debut over several chapters, Fujishima uses just a handful of panels to show us how Toppu succumbs to the pleasures of competition. This transformation is bookended by two closeups, the first of Toppu’s terrified face as he pulls back on the throttle for the first time, and the second of Toppu’s gleaming eyes as he completes his final lap of the track. We see just enough action between these two panels to grasp the disparity between how quickly the race is unfolding and how slowly time passes for Toppu as he struggles to gain control of the bike, snapping back to “real” time only when Toppu realizes just how much he’s enjoying himself.

In a nod toward gender parity, Fujishima dedicates an entire chapter to showcasing Myne’s tenacity on the track as well. Though Fujishima employs many of the same strategies for immersing us in Myne’s race as he does Toppu’s, Fujishima periodically interrupts the competition with goofy, arresting images of Myne as a tracksuit wearing, sword-wielding avenger and a fiery, Medusa-haired biker. These fleeting visions are a nice bit of comic relief, echoing iconic scenes from Kill Bill and Ghost Rider, but they serve an equally important purpose: showing us how Myne’s rivals see her in competition.

As dazzling as these racing sequences are, I’d be the first to admit that the familial banter between Myne, Toppu, and Teppei feels as perfunctory as the dastardly scheming of the the Niimi brothers, the series’ first villains. (They resent Toppu’s meteoric rise in the standings and want to put him in his place.) The dialogue, too, often veers into the faintly pompous, with characters declaring how much they love “the roar of the exhaust pipe,” “the smell of burning gas and oil,” and “the gaze of the crowd” when they’re at “home.” But when Toppu or Myne jump on their bikes, the series shifts into high gear, offering the same kind of thrills as The Fate of the Furious: fast rides, fierce competition, and the ever-present threat of crashing. Recommended.

A word about buying Toppu GP: Kodansha is simultaneously publishing Toppu GP with the Japanese edition; readers can purchase new installments through Amazon and ComiXology on a weekly basis. Folks who prefer print will find the first volume available in stores now, with volume two to follow in September.

TOPPU GP, VOL. 1 • BY KOSUKE FUJISHIMA • KODANSHA COMICS • RATED T, FOR TEENS (13+)