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Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Reviews

Log Horizon: The Gold of the Kunie

March 28, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

By Mamare Touno and Kazuhiro Hara. Released in Japan by Enterbrain. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Taylor Engel.

Confession to make: I’m an extrovert. It’s actually been difficult for me to accept this, as most of my close friends are introverts, as are most of the people I interact with on Tumblr and the like. But much as I whine “but sometimes I don’t like interacting with others either”, there’s no getting around my extroverted nature. As such, I find Shiroe very frustrating and hard to take at times, and I empathized very much with Naotsugu in this book, who knows there’s not much he can do but be there for Shiroe and let him work things out at his own pace. Of course, Shirou is trying to pull off an even bigger scheme than usual – this is essentially the Log Horizon equivalent of a heist movie, only with the true objective not being piles and piles of money – well, not DIRECTLY. The true goal is freedom and security.

The majority of this book is a raid, and once again I am painfully reminded that I don’t game. More than any other light novel that details game-like aspects of a world, Log Horizon depends on its readers being gamers. This means there’s lots of discussions of balanced parties and of HP and MP and the like, to the point where we need extended appendixes just to discuss MORE of it. Thankfully, it’s not completely incomprehensible, and enough of it is written in standard action movie terms that I was never lost. But we’re not allowed to forget that the people trapped in this world are all hardcore gamers. This goes double for William Massachusetts (I will never get used to that name) and his guild Silver Sword, whose close bonds are a reflection of a group of people who found real-life interaction difficult but were able to find true bonds online – and also learn more about how to interact offline. His speech of anguished frustration is a highlight of the book.

There’s a new regular introduced here, and I’m not sure how I feel about them. Tetora is a self-proclaimed “idol” who also happens to be a Level 93 cleric, and for a while you suspect has been added to the book in order to replace Akatsuki as someone to bounce off Naotsugu properly. The gender reveal – that Tetora is actually a boy, though it’s not clear if they just dress as a girl or have a female game body – seems rather odd and last-minute, and I assume that we will get a bit more of this later beyond “I just like acting overly cutesy and annoying”. Interestingly, Taylor Engel uses female pronouns the entire book till the reveal, then has Shiroe switch to male ones. How does Tetora see her/his gender? To be honest, I found Tetora a bit grating, but that’s possibly as I’m a massive Naotsugu/Marielle shipper, and don’t want someone horning in on their slowly developing couplehood. Luckily, we see a bit of that relationship here as well.

There’s a bit more going on here that will impact future books – Krusty has vanished, and his lieutenant seems to have permanently lost her right arm. This likely ties into the “flavor text” from the previous volumes. But the majority of this volume had the same goal as the 6th did for Akatsuki – get Shiroe to open up, explain things, and stop trying to take the entire world on his shoulders. Whether that will stick is something we’ll have to see about in future books. In the meantime, next book we’ll focus on the younger members of Log Horizon again. This is a good, solid light novel series that may appeal to the reader who finds Sword Art Online a bit too outgoing.

Filed Under: log horizon, REVIEWS

Fruits Basket Collector’s Edition, Vol. 11

March 27, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

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.

This is the penultimate omnibus of Fruits Basket, and has most of the things you’d expect to see. Kyo finishes telling Tohru about his past with her mother, and because he hates himself, is really upset that Tohru doesn’t get mad about it. Akito is also dealing with self-hatred, and it’s to Takaya’s credit that the resolution to Akito and Tohru’s talk is not being stabbed with a knife (though admittedly, the crumbling cliff feels VERY deus ex machina, and I could do without the ‘kissing the concussed girl’ too). And of course the curse breaks for everyone, which allows those in couples to hug their loved ones, or those who aren’t in couples to wander the streets alone in tears because I dunno, Takaya is just mean. In any case, it’s Fruits Basket. All the feels are contained within.

Ren has the cover but doesn’t feature in the book personally. Her presence is felt throughout Akito and Tohru’s confrontation, though. Tohru realizes what the reader has, which is that Akito is in many ways similar to the other Sohmas, i.e. she’s dealing with emotional trauma from parental abuse. This doesn’t excuse what she put everyone through, but it does help Tohru to understand why her declaration of “I’m going to break the curse” meant, to Akito, “I’m going to destroy your life”. Tohru is still reeling from Kyo’s “disillusionment”, but more power to her for talking Akito down, and helping her to understand that the paralyzing fear of being rejected is what love is all about. And then there’s that cliff fall, which is *so* ridiculous that Shigure has to ask Akito if Tohru was pushed.

The remainder of the volume has Tohru in the hospital, and Kyo undergoing a huge torrent of abuse because, thanks to Yuki, everyone knows what he said to Tohru right before the accident. This does allow Kyo to attempt to move on from his past, which means confronting his birth father, who is an amazingly awful monster, but who Kyo also now sees as sad and small. It’s one of the better scenes in the book, and shows off that, despite what the rest of the cast has been screaming at him, Kyo has matured. Of course, the best scenes in the book are those where the curse breaks, and we see the aftermath from everyone’s eyes. Kyo and Tohru reuniting and declaring their love for each other is wonderful, but it’s easily topped by realizing that Kyo, despite being hugged, isn’t transforming, and his ripping off his bracelet. Tohru’s face as he does this may be the best panel in all of Fruits Basket.

Things aren’t perfect. Aside from the deus cliff machina, Takaya’s side pairings aren’t always developed as they should be, and she relies on the audience connecting dots that she hasn’t actually put into the manga itself. Thus while I like the basic idea of Kureno and Uotani, there’s no real feeling or emotion behind their getting together. (I do agree with his thoughts that he needs to be far away from Akito). Yuki and Machi fares a little better, and certainly she tried to develop it in the later books, but it still feels rushed. I did like the idea of Yuki calling her out to explain the curse, only to have to break right as she arrives. And now we have only one volume left to go, and given there’s only one regular book left to put in it, I expect there should be some extra content included as well. What will it be? Find out next month. In the meantime, still one of the top shoujo manga, despite its faults.

Filed Under: fruits basket, REVIEWS

Anonymous Noise Vol. 2

March 26, 2017 by Anna N

I feel like Anonymous Noise is hobbled by its covers, because they are so consistently great the manga inside has a hard time living up to them. That being said, I found the contrived plot elements a little less annoying in the second volume, probably because the cliched character introductions are now out of the way.

The volume opens with Nino being challenged about her vocal ability. Miou, Yuzu’s former singer points out that while Nino’s voice has a compelling quality, her technique is a mess. Nino and Miou sing together and Miou is able to sustain her note much longer than Nino. Nino is determined to get better, and she starts reading tons of books on vocal technique. Nino spots Momo’s name on a flyer advertising music autions for a famous writer/producer, and she decides to try out in order to find out if the mysterious producer is her long-lost Momo. Of course the auditions are on the same day as the next TV appearance of In No Hurry to Shout, and Nino has to somehow pull off being at both at the same time.

The aspect of this manga that I found most interesting in the first volume was Nino as a destructive muse. She’s so single-minded, she is still utterly unaware that she’s hurting Yuzu’s feelings with her never-ending Momo obsession. Yuzu is inspired to compose by the idea of Nino as his Alice, but Momo is determined to avoid her because he’s turned away from his original childhood inspiration to compose pop hits. Yuzu even damaged his voice to sing with Nino when they were children, with the result that he’s no longer able to sing himself and Nino is now serving as his proxy. All this obsession in the service of creativity might not be a good thing, yet the joyful scenes of people lost in song carry the manga along.

I wish some of the plot elements were a little less contrived, because the coincidences piling on top of each other take me out of enjoying the story a little bit. I am still enjoying the stylish art, particularly a great panel where Yuzu hands Nino the wig of the lead singer for his band. I think this series might be one where I become a little better at engaging my suspension of disbelief with each volume. Anonymous Noise certainly delivers dramatic angst, so I’m still finding it interesting to read.

Filed Under: Manga Reviews, REVIEWS Tagged With: anonomous noise, shojo beat, shoujo, viz media

In Another World with My Smartphone, Vol. 1

March 25, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

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.

It’s a bit difficult to know where to begin. I guess I’ll start by saying that by the end of this book, I was enjoying it immensely and had a big smile on my face. The second thing I should say is that this does not actually make the book “good” in any sense of the word. For a few years I’ve had to review the occasional awful manga, and people have sometimes asked me “do you mean that it’s bad in an MST3K way or bad in a bad way”. Sadly, I’ve always had to say that it’s actually the latter. Most terrible things are not remotely entertaining. In Another World with My Smartphone is an exception. Every ridiculous power the hero has, each new cliched heroine that appears, every time the plot rearranges itself so that everything is as “awesome” as possible, and most importantly the complete lack of any sense that things are about to get difficult for anyone makes this book bad in an absolutely wonderful, hilarious way. Everyone who says Kirito or Tatsuya are overpowered self-insert wannabes need to read this immediately.

I should lay out the plot here, though if you have read any isekai you’ll get the gist. Touya (no, not the Touya from Mixed Bathing in Another Dimension, though I now wonder if the name has significance for isekai works) is accidentally killed by a lightning bolt. He’s granted an audience with God, who offers to reincarnate him in a fantasy world where he can have adventures. Touya, a modern thinking sort, asks if he can keep his smartphone, and God obligingly allows it to remain working and gives it unlimited battery. He then arrives in a new world, where he quickly meets up with Kyou and Ryou Fujibayashi… (cough) sorry, with Elze and Linze, two beginning adventurers who he joins forces with. Joining an adventurer’s guild, he gradually adds incredible powers, more cute girls, and heroic feats that make everyone’s jaws drop. In fact, the author literally apologizes for not using the smartphone enough in the first volume – why would Touya need it, when he can fight like a champ, use every single kind of magic, and summon Heavenly Beasts that then become adorable tiger cub mascots?

This is taken from a webnovel, and it’s really, really obvious. Usually with most conversions to published works they at least try to get rid of the excited sense of “I’m going to put absolutely everything into this book!”, but not here. Touya has impossible magic powers. Touya can read the moves of other fighters so he’s able to dodge or counter them. Touya can heal the blind. Touya can solve crimes, provided the suspect is an obvious cliche of an evil Duke. Touya is so pure of heart that the Princess of the land immediately falls in love and declares that he will be her husband. (Touya’s complete panic at this idea is possibly the best he’s written the whole book, and I hope (probably in vain) that future volumes throw him off his game like this.) Touya can read ancient scripts (just like Bob Hope and Steve Allen!), and can make magical reading glasses to allow other to do so. Touya can even accidentally look as if he’s been to a brothel and get lectured by all his girls, because this is still a harem comedy. Is there anything Touya cannot do? Sadly, yes. Touya cannot stop his friends’ menstrual pain. Some things are simply beyond any power.

I mentioned Touya’s purity of heart, and I think the same thing applies to the book as a whole. The reason that this is fun bad and not bad bad is that it’s so innocent of the normal cynicism you tend to see in these works. I joked on Twitter that this was “Baby’s First Isekai”, and that’s not far off. I think authors are allowed to write this sort of thing to get it out of their system. Being mean to it would be like kicking a puppy. There’s apparently an anime of this coming in the summer, and I cannot WAIT to see how the typical male anime fan who hates Kirito is going to react to this. I think I’ll bring popcorn. I’ll also be reading more, because this proved to be insanely fun. Which makes it a big success after all.

Filed Under: in another world with my smartphone, REVIEWS

Kiss & White Lily for My Dearest Girl, Vol. 1

March 24, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

By Canno. Released in Japan as “Ano Ko ni Kiss to Shirayuri wo” by Media Factory, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Alive. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Jocelyn Allen.

Those who follow my reviews know that I have a certain penchant for mocking the monthly manga magazine Comic Alive, which has always seemed to cater to the audience who wants fanservice, tie-ins, and the latest trends, and they want them now. Sometimes that can be a disaster, but on occasion Comic Alive will throw me a curveball and give me a series I can truly enjoy. Kiss & White Lily for My Dearest Girl is one of those series. I came to it at the end of a glut of yuri manga volumes (and who’d ever imagine I’d be typing that phrase even two years ago?), and was worried that a lot of this review would be finding ways to say the exact same thing again. But this title is different enough from its predecessors that there’s some interesting things to discuss.

The cover is somewhat deceptive, leading me to believe that we’d be seeing one of the common default yuri pairings (or CDYP for short), the shy easily embarrassed girl and the overly genki enthusiastic girl. Luckily, that’s not the case. The premise is actually similar to the old shoujo manga Special A – Ayaka is a hard-working diligent student who always gets the best grades, but now in high school she’s up against Yurine, a lazy and apathetic girl who nonetheless always manages to get first place in everything. Ayaka’s competitive nature (instilled by her parents, it’s hinted) won’t allow her to accept this, and so she grows more and more frustrated with Yurine. As for Yurine herself, nothing challenges her anymore, and therefore nothing is interesting… except maybe Ayaka.

By itself this would probably be enough to sustain a series, likely about 2-3 volumes. But halfway through we shift to Ayaka’s roommate and cousin Mizuki, who’s athletic, handsome, and the male half of the Takarazuka pair she has with her friend Moe, who manages the track team and is angling to get Yurine on it. Yes, you guessed right, this is a School Full Of Gay (TM), and so the second half of the story focuses on another couple and their own travails. This one is more easily solved, while it appears that Ayaka and Yukine will be the developing pairing we keep coming back to after wandering away for a bit. There’s also a few one-page shorts detailing that yes, everyone in this school is indeed gay, and while it’s unrealistic, it’s also quite cute.

As I said above, the thing I enjoyed best about this series is the way that Canno’s characters don’t quite go the way I expect them to. They’re still types to a degree, but this first volume gave them a bit more depth than I’d expect for a series like this, particularly Yurine, who also gets a chapter near the end where she hangs out all day with the exceedingly hyperactive Ai, partly in an effort to try to be more open and sociable. (She’s lucky she tried it first with Ai, who plows through social cues like a train.) I have a sneaking suspicion I’ll see more of ai and her own romantic travails in a future volume. In the meantime, Kiss & White Lily for My Dearest Girl may walk on some well-worn paths, but there’s surprising depth here. A must have for fans of yuri.

Filed Under: kiss & white lily for my dearest girl, REVIEWS

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, Vol. 1

March 23, 2017 by Ash Brown

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, Volume 1Creator: Akira Himekawa
Translator: John Werry
U.S. publisher: Viz Media
ISBN: 9781421593470
Released: March 2017
Original run: 2016

Akira Himekawa is the joint pen name of A. Honda and S. Nagano, two women who have been collaborators for over thirty years. The two-person creative team is probably best known for their work on the manga adaptations of The Legend of Zelda series of video games, although some North American readers may associate Himekawa with the Avatar: The Last Airbender comics as well. Despite being a fan of both franchises, I actually hadn’t made a point to read any of Himekawa’s work until after meeting the two women briefly at the Toronto Comic Arts Festival in 2014. Twilight Princess is the most recent entry in Himekawa’s series of The Legend of Zelda adaptations. Initially Twilight Princess was intended to be a children’s series, but when the original 2006 video game it was to be based on became the first in the franchise to be rated for teens, plans for that manga were cancelled. It wasn’t until 2016 that Himekawa would begin serializing Twilight Princess digitally, the first volume subsequently being released in Japan in print later that year. Viz Media’s English-language edition of Twilight Princess debuted in print in 2017.

Link is a young man trying to outrun his past. A year and a half ago he wandered into the border village of Ordon, hiding his personal history in hopes of establishing a new life for himself. Ordon is idyllic, seemingly a perfect place for Link to retreat. The land is said to have been blessed by the spirits and the village is well-known for its bountiful harvests. Although Link arrived as a stranger, he was warmly welcomed by the villagers and has since become an integral part of the community. Link loves Ordon and its people, but there’s always a small part of him that feels like he doesn’t quite belong. He is still plagued by guilt over the tragedies of his past, dealing with a weighty feeling of responsibility which is impossible to ignore. Having experienced disaster before, Link may be one of the few who can prevent it from happening again. Most of the other people in the sacred kingdom of Hyrule are unaware of the looming threat that the long-forgotten Twilight Realm poses. It’s a danger that grows even greater when the ambitions of one man to rule both the light and the dark begin to come to fruition. As the shadows of darkness gather around Ordon, Link will have to face his past and his fears, confronting the possibility that he will once again lose everything that he holds most dear.

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, Volume 1, page 122Although I’ve played some of the original Twilight Princess, familiarity with the video game is not at all necessary to enjoy Himekawa’s adaptation. At least so far, the series can stand on its own as a work–the manga largely comes across as a freely-developed fantasy rather than a strict reimagining of a video game. Himekawa’s narrative in Twilight Princess is streamlined and quickly paced, incorporating elements of the original game in clever ways. Some of the wonder of having a world to leisurely explore and discover is lost as Twilight Princess is adapted into a different medium, but in exchange the manga emphasizes depth of characterization. As the protagonist, Link is generally the most fully-realized character. I really like Himkeawa’s multi-faceted interpretation of Link in Twilight Princess. While at heart Link is a troubled and brooding hero, he also exhibits happiness and joy and there are moments in the manga when his good-natured goofiness shines through. The Twilight Princess manga, much like the video game itself, is intended for a more mature audience than many of the previous incarnations of The Legend of Zelda. The story tends to be fairly dark and can be strikingly violent at times.

One of the things that I appreciate the most about Himekawa’s work on The Legend of Zelda manga is the creators’ ability to adjust their tone and style to fit the requirements of a given series. Himekawa’s skill and flexibility as artists can be seen as they move from one adaptation to the next, but can also be exhibited within a single manga. In Twilight Princess specifically there is a wonderful contrast between the serene, pastoral setting of Ordon and the ominous darkness and shadowy creatures encroaching upon it. The artwork in Twilight Princess is beautifully executed, ranging from the gorgeous to the grotesque as demanded by the story. In comparison, the storytelling itself isn’t nearly as strong. The first chapter of Twilight Princess in particular suffers from some awkward exposition and Link has a tendency to ask questions that he should already know the answers to having lived in Ordon for so long. Still, I do like the story, characters, and settings of Twilight Princess. In the past, Himekawa’s The Legend of Zelda manga have only been one or two volumes long. I would be surprised if Twilight Princess could end satisfactorily in such a short span, so I hope that the series will be longer to allow the story to unfold more naturally; I enjoyed the first volume of Twilight Princess a great deal and look forward to reading more.

Thank you to Viz Media for providing a copy of The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, Volume 1 for review.

Filed Under: REVIEWS Tagged With: Akira Himekawa, Legend of Zelda, manga, viz media

Durarara!!, Vol. 6

March 23, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

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

When you write a book that creates a series of events that spiral into chaos, as Narita specialized in, particularly in this series, it can be many things to many people. For every character that’s involved in wacky hijinks, there’s another who’s undergoing a traumatic life-changing event. The skill is to keep those balls up in the air, and more importantly, to make everyone distinctive and memorable. As the books go on, we introduce more and more new cast members, and you need to be able to care about everyone without consulting the wiki to remember who they are (A Certain Magical Index suffers from this quite a bit). Luckily, Narita is quite good at this, so we can empathize not only with our heroes, but even the passing villains who get curbstomped by yakuza, and said yakuza, who are finding all of these gangs and Russian assassins simply exasperating. It’s all things to all people.

And so Durarara!! can be a comedy. There’s lots of great humor here, even if some of it is pretty twisted. Shinra’s diary of Celty fetish outfits, and her reaction to same. Chikage’s absolutely ridiculous chivalry, with equal measures of “knight in shining armor” and dumb sexism. Speaking of sexism, Erika gets to play the depraved bisexual in this one, groping Anri for no reason other than she wants to and to give the illustrator some fanservice to draw. Not OK, Erika. There’s also her and Walker namechecking Index and Shana in the middle of a pitched fight. And Mairu and Kururi’s chatroom gabbling is always worth a smile.

But Durarara!! is also ridiculously heartwarming. The fact that Shizuo has grown and changed as a person is a literal plot point here, as that very growth is what spoils Izaya’s plans. I loved the way that he bonded with Akane at the end, after saving her from Vorona and Slon. Celty might be weirded out by all the talk of Akane killing him, but it’s sweet in a Ryohgo Narita way. Anri may not be able to admit how close Mikado is to her, but her attempts to protect him are wonderful to see, as are Mikado’s absolutely pathetic attempts to protect her and also stop the Dollars gang from kidnapping Rio and her friends. For all that I like to say that Durarara!! is about terrible, twisted people, a lot of them have a good heart. Oh yes, and who doesn’t get a warm feeling in their heart when they see Izaya get what he deserved at the end of the book? I know I smiled. Well, cackled, really.

But I’m avoiding the elephant in the room, and that’s the fact that Durarara!! Book 6 is also a tragedy. We see a bit of it in miniature with Akane, a genuinely sweet little girl who is broken by events (and helped along by Izaya) to the point where both Celty and Shiki are disturbed by her but can’t quite put their finger on why. Vorona is shown that she’s nowhere near strong enough to take on Ikebukuro (don’t worry, she’ll be back). And then there’s Mikado, who is being used as a pawn by both Izaya and Aoba, and who finally makes a decision to go to a very dark place. Several times in the book we see people seemingly know Mikado better than he knows himself, and he’s given several opportunities to back off, to do the right thing, to become a good person. And he absolutely rejects all of them, agreeing to become the Blue Squares leader so that he can “fix” the Dollars. The most chilling moment in the book isn’t when he stabs Aoba in the hand with a ballpoint pen (though that is the most famous moment). As Aoba also realizes, it’s right after, when he switches back to innocent, kindhearted Mikado like flipping a switch. Mikado has chosen to embrace the darkness, and I appreciate that the narrative shows us how much of a terrible tragedy that truly is.

So we’re at the end of another arc, and that means next time we’ll see a lot of wandering around and setting up future plotlines. Still, books like that are what lead us to books like this, which is a highlight of the series.

Filed Under: durarara!!, REVIEWS

Ranma 1/2, Vols. 37-38

March 22, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

By Rumiko Takahashi. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by Kaori Inoue, Adapted by Gerard Jones.

And so at last we come to the end of the great Ranma 1/2 reissue. Inu Yasha may have had a broader reach, Urusei Yatsura may have had a bigger impact on Japan itself, and Maison Ikkoku may have had more maturity and resolution, but Ranma will still be THE anime gateway for many fans, along with Sailor Moon and Bubblegum Crisis. Having read the series again, I am able to see why it was so wildly popular, as well as why revisiting it can be frustrating. Ranma does not have depth – in fact, it actively leaps out of the way of depth – which makes it perfect for creative fans who want to give it that depth. It’s no coincidence that more than AMVs or fanart, it was fanfiction that was the biggest part of the mid-90s Ranma boom. Still, this does not mean that Takahashi’s manga is not good. It’s very good indeed.

Please do not be fooled by the cover – yes, there is a wedding at the end of the book, but we don’t even get to the ceremony before everything is completely destroyed and we return to the status quo. Well, status quo except that it seems that if there had not been chaos, Ranma and Akane might have gone through with the wedding. But there is always chaos in Ranma, it’s practically the main cast member. This manga ends much the same way that many of the classic UY anime episodes ended – with more and more of the cast showing up, each trying to beat up somebody else, until everything finally turns into a giant pile of destruction. Ranma 1/2 is not a romantic comedy, or a harem manga, or even a martial arts comedy. It’s pure slapstick.

The martial arts gets a good workout in the main part of this volume, though, as we return to China to battle another major villain. You get the sense that Takahashi is trying to figure out a way to top Herb, and she doesn’t manage it, really, but A for effort. The whole main cast is there (poor Ukyou, guess you were supporting after all), and there’s lots of cool fights and dramatic kicks and Akane and Shampoo in distress a lot of the time. That said, even when captured or dehydrated down to the size of a doll, Akane is still thinking hard and trying to get herself out of her predicament. Shampoo, alas, is merely mind-controlled most of the time. (I will note that Akane not noticing Ryouga transforming several times in this beggars belief, but hey.)

And so Ranma ends with our main couple waving goodbye to the readers as they head off to school again. It’s never quite confirmed that they do have mutual feelings for each other, mostly as I think Takahashi hoped people could read between the lines and see that she’d had them show their love without saying their love several times. (UY did this too – Ataru in particular was the poster child for “show, don’t tell”.) It didn’t quite work, and fans who disliked Akane were always quick to point out the open-endedness of the ending meant that they didn’t end up together. Takahashi later did one of those “character relationship charts”, filled with one-sided arrows, except for two – Ranma and Akane, and Ryouga and Akari. So she knew they loved each other.

But we don’t read Ranma for resolution of romantic tension. We read it for genderswapping and bizarre martial arts contests and so many fights and “Ranma no baka!” and in order to flesh out our 800,000 word epic fanfic with smatterings of actual canon. And we read it because we love the characters, flat as they are. Of course, we may not always love the SAME characters, but any Ranma fan is obsessed with at least one of them (except Happosai). Ranma 1/2 was a roadmap to modern anime fandom, and the road may be less traveled these days but it’s worth walking back over.

Filed Under: ranma 1/2, REVIEWS

Accel World: The Seven-Thousand-Year Prayer

March 21, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

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

And so, at last, we come to the end of the Armor of Catastrophe arc, which was not only deliberately meant to be a long arc but also grew out of the author’s control, as he’s admitted himself in the afterword. The volume gives us a lot of what readers like about this series: good battles with some nice analysis from Haruyuki, some amusing harem comedy, some heartwarming romance with Kuroyukihime, and an examination of the nature of negative emotions and how to cope with them every day, because they don’t just magically go away merely because everyone believes in you really hard. That said, it also has some things that fans tend to not like as well: Haruyuki is not only the bestest person to ever be possessed by the evil armor, but he’s a shining magical beacon of hope for all. Oh, and he gets another girl confessing to him, and is caught with her lying on top of him, because harem comedy. It’s a balance.

The significant development here is a bit of a spoiler, but worth talking about. We learn the true identity of Ash Roller, which turns out to be somewhat confusing, meshing up a tragic tale of an introverted girl and her comatose brother with the nature of the neurolinkers that are omnipresent in this world. It’s left deliberately up in the air what’s going on here, whether Rin is literally being possessed by her brother while in the Accelerated world, or if she’s merely taking on his role to an almost absurd extent. (She genuinely seems to be unaware of what transpires without wearing her brother’s neurolinker, so odds are on the first.) That said, I admit to a bit of irritation at the fact that one of Haru’s only male friends turns out to really be a shy young girl who’s in love with him in real life. (The shyness is conveyed via an odd speech pattern – Rin talks in sentence fragments, and it’s unclear if this is a mental issue like Utai’s or if it’s meant to be natural introversion.)

That said, once again after a lot of harem tease we are reminded that at the end of the day there is only one who is top of the heap, and it’s Kuroyukihime. We get a little more insight into her real-life background – she lives alone in a very rich neighborhood, and it’s implied that the murder of the Red King in the Accelerated World had a counterpart in real life as well. That said, just as Haruyuki is a Pillar of Hope for All despite his omnipresent self-hatred, Kuroyukihime tends towards the perfect accepting girlfriend much of the time, listening calmly as Haru pours out his fears, getting the crap beaten out of her in the AW waiting for him to overcome the Disaster, and bushing cutely when he’s accidentally proposing marriage to her without actually realizing it.

So in the end Accel World has much the same strengths and weaknesses as the author’s other series, Sword Art Online. Which means fans of one will enjoy the other, and those who hate Kirito with a passion probably will find themselves getting annoyed at Haruyuki here. The next book should be standalone and lighthearted, and I fear that may mean MAXIMUM HAREM ANTICS. We shall see.

Filed Under: accel world, REVIEWS

Ne Ne Ne, Chapters 1-4

March 20, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

Ne Ne Ne sounds like E.L. James fanfic: the lead character is a virginal lass who’s forced into an arranged marriage with a sexy, mask-wearing man twenty years her senior. The actual story, however, is much less kinky than my capsule summary would suggest. Like millions of other nineteenth-century couples, sixteen-year-old Koyuki and thirty-seven-year-old Shin begin their married life as strangers, their union one of familial expediency rather than romance. Each entertains different ideas about what constitutes a proper marriage: for Koyuki, being married means homemaking and child-rearing, while for Shin, being married means mindful companionship. Most of their conflict stems from Koyuki’s immaturity, as she bursts into tears every time she burns a meal, tumbles off a ladder, or ruins one of Shin’s yukatas.

Though Koyuki’s bungled chores and teary monologues scream “moe,” Ne Ne Ne retains a core of emotional honesty that’s missing from other rom-coms about clumsy young girls and their older male admirers. The secret lies with the manga’s nuanced portrayal of Koyuki and Shin. Artist Daisuke Hagiwara does a fine job of showing us the degree to which the characters’ ages influence their expectations about married life, using small gestures — a shrug of the shoulder, a chaste kiss, a longing glance — to reveal how carefully the two are approaching their new roles. Author Shizuno Totono also raises the question of sex, hinting at the characters’ mutual attraction while acknowledging the moral and ethical dilemmas posed by Shin and Koyuki’s age gap.

Ne Ne Ne isn’t all angst and meaningful glances; Totono and Daisuke dish out plenty of jokes and sight gags, too, going to great lengths to demonstrate that Shin never takes his mask off. (Not even when he’s doing the laundry! Or snoring on a futon!) Shin’s mask serves a legitimate purpose beyond generating jokes and occasional moments of erotic tension, however: it’s a symbol of his profession — priest — and his connection to the supernatural world. In one of the story’s loveliest scenes, Shin gives Koyuki an impromptu lesson on how to spot yokai. Koyuki’s face conveys her profound sense of wonder at seeing her first dragon, and her delight at forging a small but meaningful connection with Shin — something she’s struggled to do in their more routine interactions as husband and wife.

Totono and Daisuke are less successful at wringing humor out of the couple’s interactions with supporting players. These characters are two-dimensional at best, defined by a single trait or habit that determines how they react to Koyuki and Shin’s marriage. Their brash neighbor Shouta, for example, cracks wise about the age gap between Shin and Koyuki — at one point, he implores Koyuki to marry him “when that old guy dies” — but his comments are anachronistic; it’s hard to imagine a young man in Meiji-era Japan finding an arranged marriage unusual, or speaking to his elders with such blatant disregard for etiquette. Koyuki’s father is similarly two-dimensional, a walk-on role whose main function is to defend his daughter’s chastity with comic fury. (He forbids Shin to consummate the marriage until Koyuki turns 20.) As with Shouta, these scenes don’t contribute much to our understanding of the period setting or the family dynamics that brought Shin and Koyuki together; they do, however, remind us that Shin is waaaaaaaay older than Koyuki.

If Totono and Hagiwara sometimes seem too intent on proving to the reader that Ne Ne Ne is more than just a pervy tale about an old guy in a mask and his child bride, the manga nevertheless manages to be funny, sweet, and honest about the challenges of marital life — something I didn’t expect from a story with such a ludicrous premise. Recommended.

Yen Press is simultaneously publishing the English-language edition of Ne Ne Ne as it’s released in Japan. As of March 20, 2017, four chapters are available. They can be purchased individually or as a package through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Book Walker, ComiXology, Google Play, iBooks and Kobo.

NE NE NE, CHAPTERS 1-4 • STORY BY SHIZUKO TOTONO, ART BY DAISUKE HAGIWARA • YEN PRESS • NO RATING (APPROPRIATE FOR TEENS 13+)

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Daisuke Hagiwara, Ne Ne Ne, Romance/Romantic Comedy, Shizuku Totono, yen press

Hana & Hina After School, Vol. 1

March 20, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

By Milk Morinaga. Released in Japan as “Hana to Hina wa Houkago” by Futabasha, serialized in the magazines Comic High and Weekly Action. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jennifer McKeon, Adapted by Shannon Fay.

This is the third of four quite similar yuri titles due out in February/March. I’ve already discussed Secret of the Princess and Kase-san And Morning Glories, and I have to save some of my energies and words for Kiss & White Lily for My Dearest Girl. Here today we have the new series from Milk Morinaga, author of many other yuri series that have been brought over to North America. It gives fans of sweet yuri exactly what they want – these are cute girls, one short and brunette and one tall and blonde, having a difficult first meeting but gradually growing closer, and the first volume ends with a lot of “but we’re both girls” angst. It doesn’t break any rules or step outside the box, but it performs its function well.

Hana is the short one, and she’s diligent and nice but tends to overthink things, and she works after school at a shop that sells what I’ve always called tchotchkes, borrowing from the Yiddish. Stuffed animals, mugs, things like that. One day she gets a new co-worker in Hina, a tall leggy blonde who appears very standoffish and cold. Of course, this is merely Hana’s read on her. As we learn more about Hina, including her love of all things cute (to the point of almost being a cute otaku), it’s clear that Hina is acting this way around Hana to avoid getting too close – which makes it all the more awkward when the new school year begins and Hina shows up at Hana’s school – yes, the tall leggy blonde is an underclassman to the petite girl. The minimal plot here involves the fact that part-time jobs are against the rules, and this is doubly bad for Hina, who’s also a model, though she’s going to give that up.

What follows is, as I indicated above, predictable, in a way that many Milk Morinaga titles are. Hana is adorable and upbeat, and every time they interact it becomes increasingly difficult for Hina to keep her hands off her. That said, Hina also has a tragic past where she’s been called out for this before, if the minimal flashback we see is any proof, and when she asks some other classmates if they’d think a confession from another girl was weird, they say no… provided it’s just the typical admiration that Japanese schoolgirls are supposed to have. If it’s real romantic feelings… yes, they think it’s weird. And so Hina’s stuck, and stressing about it as the volume comes to a close.

Actually, I’d argue this is a step forward from some other Milk Morinaga series we’ve seen that are even fluffier than this. Real life brings real problems, especially if a girl decides she likes other girls, and they can complicate a relationship even more than “but what if she doesn’t like me that way?”. I’m hoping that the remaining two volumes of the series go into that deeper. In the meantime, this is definitely recommended for fans of yuri.

Filed Under: hana & hina after school, REVIEWS

I Saved Too Many Girls and Caused the Apocalypse, Vol. 2

March 19, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

By Namekojirushi and Nao Watanuki. Released in Japan as “Ore ga Heroine o Tasukesugite Sekai ga Little Mokushiroku!?” by Hobby Japan. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Adam Lensenmayer.

This was a surprising license for J-Novel Club. Not because of the premise – honestly, the combination of harem parody along with the genre mashing of fantasy, SF, school life, and everything in between is highly appealing to North American markets. No, it’s just that this novel series is 16 volumes long in Japan, which is pretty lengthy, especially for a budding LN publisher. Thankfully, the 16th book seems to be the final one, so we don’t need to worry about it becoming a massive behemoth like A Certain Magical Index. And to be fair, judging by the lengths of these first two novels, 16 Little Apocalypses may be the equivalent of eight Devil Is a Part-Timers. The reason I bring all this up is because we not only get three heroines introduced here, but roles also for the first book’s heroines, and the introduction of (presumably) the next heroine at the end. By Book 16, what will the pileup look like? Well, probably like an apocalypse.

Of course, not all heroines are created equal. Poor Harissa doesn’t really get to do much here except fret and use the occasional spell, and Iris is sent off until the thrilling finale requires her. Satsuki plays a larger role, but that’s more due to her magical wikipedia ability than anything else. This makes sense, given that we get three new girls here, and have fun seeing Rekka try to intertwine their stories in order to solve the problem. Fortunately, two of them are already intertwined: Tetra is essentially a shrine maiden devoted to doing something about the seal that is currently holding back a powerful monster, and Leviathan (aka Lea), the monster in question who turns out to have been imprisoned there falsely. The third heroine is more down to earth: Akane Tendo (cough) pardon me, Tsumiki Nozomuno, who family owns a failing restaurant and needs her to come up with a dramatic menu item to save the day, despite the fact that anything she cooks ends up as a poisonous black sludge, and also the fact that she’s a massive tsundere.

This volume is not quite as good as the first – I suspect the author forgets that he’s writing a parody of the harem genre at times, and when he does, things get rather tedious. The villain was quite good, but the introduction reminded me a lot of Kyubey – possibly deliberately, as I think Madoka Magica was airing when this was being written. There are funny gags, although Rekka in a magical girl outfit is not as funny as the author – and indeed the rest of the cast – think. Worst of all, R’s snark is few and far between here, though when she does make a comment it’s as hilariously sarcastic and bitter as ever. She’s still easily the best part of the book.

As I said, we get a cliffhanger ending to this book, which seems to introduce the subject of the third book. Will it limit itself to just one girl this time around? If we assume 3 girls per book, that would be 48 girls, which is edging close to Negima territory, so I’m hoping that we back off a bit. I’m also hoping for a bit more making fun of the harem comedy and less conforming to it. Still, this is easy reading and fun enough for those who enjoy the genre.

Filed Under: i saved too many girls and caused the apocalypse, REVIEWS

Anonymous Noise, Vol. 1

March 18, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

By Ryoko Fukuyama. Released in Japan as “Fukumenkei Noise” by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by JN Productions.

It was always going to be difficult to live up to that cover, let’s face it. Manga readers, even in North America, have been somewhat trained to think of one thing when they see high school girls wearing cold masks: gang members. That’s not the case here, but I’d argue that Nino, the girl on the cover, does not need to convey her repressed emotions through violence, like many shoujo gang members. She can do so through song, and in fact the best thing about this new manga is the way that her voice is portrayed. Nino loves to sing, but due to the events of the first chapter, her voice comes out as a cry from the heart, a scream to be heard, a cry of loneliness. It’s primal, and the art portrays it beautifully.

The premise will be very familiar to readers of manga – in fact, it may remind people of Chihayafuru, which debuted last month. Nino and her best friend and next door neighbor Momo sing together to try to forget about the fact that their parents fight. But then one day Momo’s family moves away suddenly, and if devastated. The cold mask is to stop her simply screaming out in rage and distress at what’s been taken from her. Fortunately, she meets another young boy, Yuzu, who’s not much like Momo, but he likes to write music. Nino can sight read even at that age, and begins to sing his songs after a brief argument (Yuzu is a lot less nice and cute than Momo was, being more of a brat). But then he has to vanish suddenly too (why are childhood goodbyes always avoided in stories like these?), and all Nino has left is her voice.

Cut to high school, and the hot new band is called In No Hurry To Shout, a terrific name, which is unfortunate as the band is breaking up. No, it’s not Nino’s band – she’s an anonymous high schooler, and still wearing the cold mask. But it is Yuzu’s band, and it quickly becomes apparent that the songs are being written for Nino, even if they’re being sung by her substitute, Miou, who I suspect is going to take Nino coming back into Yuzu’s life very badly. For indeed the two reunite, and before you know it Nino has to be the band’s lead singer at the high school event. This was the scene I alluded to earlier that’s the best in the book – Nino doesn’t even try to follow the actual lyrics, and her hands clutches her face as if she’s doing the Careful With That Axe, Eugene scream by Pink Floyd.

By the way, if you know shoujo you know what happens by the end of this volume – yup, Momo shows up as well, and he heard Nino. This seems to be one of the more dramatic Hana to Yume manga, a magazine that usually has a few more jokes in its material. But honestly, I’m totally on board as long as I can see more of Nino singing. It turns out the cold mask on the cover was holding her back from the reader as well – once you see her pouring her soul into her voice, you’ll have to read more. Definitely recommended.

Filed Under: anonymous noise, REVIEWS

Mixed Bathing in Another Dimension: The Fervent Sand Baths

March 17, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

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

The difficulty with coming up with a really wacky idea or gimmick in your otherwise fairly standard light novel is that you need to keep coming up with fresh new ways to use the gimmick. After all, that’s why some readers are there in the first place. So it is somewhat disappointing for me to say that in this second volume of a series where a hero is transported to another world with nothing but the ability to make a bathroom appear out of nowhere, there’s not nearly enough bathroom used here. We do see it “level up”, so to speak, as it’s now essentially a small hot tub with a changing room (and sleeping room by the end), and the villain is disposed of rather gruesomely via the bath, but really our hero ends up solving most problems through his newly learned earth magic. Which is fine, but makes him a bit more generic.

Having set up the premise in the first volume, much of this second is devoted to world building, as Touya and his companions set out to discover the truth about what happened five hundred years ago and the missing kingdom that is shrouded in myth and legend. Indeed, there may be a bit TOO much world building – the book could have used another good fight, and suffers occasionally from Touya feeling the need to tell us every action that’s being done as he does it – “We did this and this and this and this and this”. We see him in a different city which looks like it might be interesting in future books – the concept of semi-slavery used here is still uncomfortable – but it doesn’t really end up going anywhere.

I’m still enjoying the book, mind you. The hero is a nice guy, if obsessed with nude bodies the way a teenager would normally be. The girls are nice girls, sometimes to an unbelievable degree – Clena in particularly is like a tsundere that forgot to pack her tsun. We do check in with Haruno, the girl from Book One, and it’s nice to see that the two of them still really like each other – Touya is adding to his harem (sorry, party), but it’s clear that Haruno is Best Girl, and the others are having to come to terms with that. Again, the hero is very good about communicating whatever he’s about to do, searching for discomfort and consent. I still appreciate that. But the trouble with nice people traveling through a world nicely is there is a need for conflict. The Goldfish who is the villain of this book (no, really) is refreshingly duplicitous and evil, and it was nice to see.

So yes, the bloom is off the rose a bit. I wasn’t as taken with this as I was with Book 1. But it’s still a good series, and I really like everyone, despite that making them the teensiest bit dull. And now we appear to have added loli #2 in the form of the Goddess of Darkness. That should go well. Recommended to those who like harems but hate tsunderes.

Filed Under: mixed bathing in another dimension, REVIEWS

Ichi-F: A Worker’s Graphic Memoir of the Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant

March 16, 2017 by Ash Brown

Ichi-F: A Worker’s Graphic Memoir of the Fukushima Nuclear Power PlantCreator: Kazuto Tatsuta
Translator: Stephen Paul
U.S. Publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632363558
Released: March 2017
Original release: 2014-2015
Awards: Manga Open

Although Ichi-F: A Worker’s Graphic Memoir of the Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant isn’t Kazuto Tatsuta’s first manga, it is very likely the one for which he will be best known. Based on his experiences as a worker at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Plant, the memoir provides an important and highly personal perspective on the ongoing recovery efforts following Japan’s combined earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear disasters of March 2011. Initially submitted as an amateur work, Ichi-F won the Manga Open Grand Prize in 2013 which led to its continuation as a three-volume series published between 2014 and 2015. The English-language edition of Ichi-F was released by Kodansha Comics in March 2017. The entire series, including Tatsuta’s original one-shot, has been collected into a single, massive omnibus formatted to read left-to-right. Also included is an introduction by the journalist Karyn Nishimura-Poupée and an exclusive interview with the creator. A tremendous amount of work from the translator Stephen Paul and others at Kodansha has gone into Ichi-F in an effort to make the manga as accurate and as widely accessible as possible.

On March 11, 2011 a massive earthquake centered off of the northeast coast of Japan triggered a devastating tsunami which ultimately lead to multiple meltdowns at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant. Many people in Fukushima were required to evacuate and have yet been able to return to their homes due to the radiation levels in the area. Cleanup and recovery work, including the decommissioning of the plant, continues to this day and will continue for quite some time. Most of the people directly involved in the work are from the Fukushima area but others like Tatsuta (a pen name taken from the region for purposes of anonymity) are outsiders drawn by the promise of high wages, personal curiosity, and altruism. Despite the need for workers, it took Tatsuta more than a year after the disaster to secure clearance for employment at Ichi-F, one of the local names for the Fukushima Daiichi plant. Initially he was assigned to a shelter where he helped to manage a rest area for the construction workers, but eventually he would become one of those construction workers himself, at one point even serving on a team working inside one of the plant’s reactor buildings.

Ichi-F, page 39Ichi-F is primarily about the day-to-day lives and work of those employed at the nuclear power plant but Tatsuta also addresses some of the related recovery efforts and the issues caused by them in the Fukushima region as well as the some of the complications surrounding the publication of his memoir. In part the manga was created in response to the misleading, sensationalistic, and often inaccurate way that Fukushima and the surrounding areas are portrayed in the media. This is not to say there haven’t been problems with the decommissioning and cleanup–even Tatsuta’s account reveals social conflicts and questionable employment practices, not to mention that exposure to high levels of radiation is inherently dangerous–but some of Fukushima’s poor representation is due to ignorance and fearmongering. In fact, excepting the radiation concerns, much of the work outlined in Ichi-F, while being incredibly important, is outright mundane. Tatsuta explains in detail the safety procedures and regulations intended to protect the workers at the plant, showing just how difficult, time-consuming, and challenging the cleanup efforts are. Careful vigilance, caution, and concerted effort are absolutely necessary, especially to counter desensitization to the dangers involved, and there is always room for improvement.

Tatsuta’s own personal experiences while working in Fukushima are what inform Ichi-F. As such, it cannot provide a comprehensive look at the disaster and recovery efforts as a whole, but it does offer an individual perspective critical to the larger context. Tatsuta is an insider telling a story that’s often left untold because it isn’t particularly dramatic or exciting–the manga is a thorough, informative account of the work being done to decommission the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant. The manga can be a bit text-heavy at times, and the way that it has been modified to read left-to-right occasionally interrupts the narrative’s visual flow, but the memoir is both fascinating and accessible. Ichi-F is also the story of the people involved in the cleanup and the close relationships that Tatsuta develops while in Fukushima. What in many ways started out as just a job ends with Tatsuta caring deeply about and for his colleagues at the plant, the locals and residents of Fukushima, and the area itself. While the lasting effects of the nuclear disaster in Fukushima are tragic and some areas remain incredibly hazardous, conditions are slowly improving and recovery and revitalization is happening partly thanks to the efforts of Tatsuta and the other workers shown in Ichi-F.

Filed Under: REVIEWS Tagged With: Ichi-F, Kazuto Tatsuta, kodansha, Kodansha Comics, manga, Manga Open, Nonfiction

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