Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Reviews

Bakemonogatari: Monster Tale, Part 2

by

By NISIOISIN. Released in Japan by Kodansha. Released in North America by Vertical, Inc. Translated by Ko Ransom.

One of the things I enjoy about the first few volumes of the Monogatari books is that each new story begins with the girl from the previous story having a long conversation with Araragi where they basically take on the role they’ll play in the books from this point forward. In the previous volume’s Mayoi Snail, Senjogahara showers Araragi with abuse and teasing affection. And here we have Suruga Money, in which Mayoi reappears and begins to function as Araragi’s sounding board and life advice coach, and Nadeko Snake, in which Kanbaru shows off that she was actually holding back in her own story, and becomes the only person in the cast who can be more perverse than he can. (This works in Japanese publication order, by the way, and continues at least through Nekomonogatari Black, which starts with a long scene with Araragi and his sister Tsukihi.) The first two books introduced Araragi and began to give him a “harem”, so to speak – this second book expands on that.

The stories in Bakemonogatari were originally written as short stories for a magazine, and it shows – each story has the introduction at some point of Araragi, Shinobu and Meme Oshino and explains his nature, for readers who had not read the previous stories. Not that Shinobu plays a part in this book – she’s still silent, apparently sulking as Oshino is stealing her Mister Donuts stash, and functions mostly as a maguffin to power up Araragi so he can battle oddities. For the most part, each story in this is devoted to showing us the new girl. This works quite well in Kanbaru’s case. Her overly solicitous politeness is perfectly translated, and you also see the frustration and rage she normally keeps well-hidden. She’s a good kid. She’s also a “pervert”, i.e. happy to talk about sexual matters with Araragi till she’s blue in the face. And she’s a lesbian, something she admits herself, though the text goes on to use the alternate term “sapphist”, which, as Araragi points out, is the same thing. (One could argue she flirts incessantly with Araragi in the following story, but I maintain that she mostly does this for appearance – much like many other characters in Monogatari, especially Araragi himself.) Her story is the strongest, flagging only when we have to read a very long battle scene from Araragi’s narrative POV – it gets tedious, and makes you realize why Nisioisin does so much dialogue – he’s better at it.

As for Nadeko… without spoiling anything about future volumes, we’re left with an okay story that works best when Nadeko isn’t in it. Araragi and Kanbaru’s banter at the start is probably the high point of the book. Nadeko herself is painted entirely as a shy, innocent victim, forever looking down or away from the two of them. Her “monster” problem is quite sexualized, which is uncomfortable given she’s only in junior high, but if that really makes you uncomfortable you’d better jump off now before we get to Nisemonogatari, as it will only get worse. In the context of future volumes, there’s lots of subtle clues and hints in here, a few of which I think are deliberate. But without that context, this story sometimes just lies there. It’s the weak link of the five.

The third volume will contain only one story, Tsubasa Cat, and you can probably guess who stars, though if you read these two volumes and think we’re finally getting a flashback to what happened during Golden Week, you’d be wrong. It also doesn’t have quite as much Kanbaru, which is a relief even though I love her. The translation is, on the whole, excellent throughout, but Vertical has decided not to have honorifics, and as such Kanbaru’s constant “Araragi-sempai” is turned into “My senior Araragi”, which is fine initially, but after the first hundred or so times you realize how OFTEN she uses his name, and it begins to wear. (Mayoi’s “Mister Araragi” works better.) I understand why they chose not to have the honorifics, but I suspect I might find it a bit more comfortable if Kanbaru’s use of -sempai was removed rather than adapted, even if that affected the politeness level. Other than that, though, this is good volume of Monogatari, if not quite as good as the other two.

Anonymous Noise, Vol. 1

by

Anonymous Noise is to manga what “Talk Dirty to Me” is to contemporary hit radio: both have a killer hook — that plot! that sax! — and inane lyrics.

The story begins with a vorspiel of sorts. Nino, a tot with a golden voice, bonds with her next-door neighbor Momo, who shares her enthusiasm for singing, if not her sense of pitch. The two are inseparable until Momo’s family abruptly moves away. While pining for her lost friend, Nino crosses paths with Yuzu, a short, feisty songwriter whose tunes help Nino discover her true potential as a vocalist. He, too, unexpectedly skips town, leaving Nino despondent once again — so despondent, in fact, that she begins wearing a surgical mask to prevent herself from screaming. (No, I’m not making that up.)

Flash forward to the present: Nino is now in middle school, roaming the halls in a mask and obsessing about Momo. A chance encounter reunites her with Yuzu, who’s penning tunes for the school’s struggling Popular Music Club. What Nino doesn’t realize is that Yuzu’s bandmates are, in fact, members of In No Hurry to Shout, a pop act as famous for their identity-concealing costumes as their chart-topping songs. (Apparently no one else has put two and two together, either, as the snotty school council president regularly threatens the club with termination.) Nino agrees to sit in for the club’s vocalist, unwittingly auditioning for In No Hurry to Shout in the process.

Despite its soap-opera plotting, Anonymous Noise never gels into a compelling story. One contributing factor is the characters, who are barely fleshed out. Nino, for example, is defined almost exclusively by her capacity for self-pity; she mopes incessantly, mooning over Momo as if he’d just moved away. (Six years have elapsed since Momo’s family skipped town.) Her romantic prospects are also one-note characters: Yuzu is a blustery jerk who yells, cajoles, and insults Nino, while Momo is sweetly chivalrous, the perfect boyfriend-in-training.

Another contributing factor is the lackluster artwork. Though other characters gush about Nino’s voice, Ryoko Fukuyama never *shows* us that Nino has the goods. We see close-ups of Nino’s gaping mouth and a smattering of musical notes whenever she warbles a tune, but we could just as easily infer that she was shouting, yodeling, or yawning from the lifeless, unimaginative way in which she’s drawn. A quick glance at Nodame Cantabile, Your Lie in April, Ludwig B., solanin, or Nana, demonstrates that it *is* possible to show how much physical effort it takes to produce a good sound, and what effect that sound is having on the audience. While such gestures don’t replicate the full experience of hearing a great band in person, they suggest what it might be like — something that Anonymous Noise fails to do on any level.

The bottom line: Anonymous Noise is too bland to be memorable, and too earnest to be fun. Not recommended.

ANONYMOUS NOISE, VOL. 1 • BY RYOKO FUKUYAMA • VIZ MEDIA • RATED T, FOR TEEN

Fate/Complete Material, Vol. 2: Character Material

by

By Type Moon. Released in Japan by Enterbrain. Released in North America by Udon Entertainment. Translated by M. Kirie Hayashi.

I didn’t review the first of these artbooks when it came out three years ago for several good reasons. I wasn’t really into Fate then, I almost never buy artbooks in general, and I’m not sure exactly how I’d have reviewed it, except to point at it and say “Oooooh, pretty!”. The first volume is subtitled “Art Material”, and is what it says, showing off the big cutscenes and promotional materials for the visual novel. It’s gorgeous, and I recommend it, but you can’t talk about it for 500 words. That’s not a problem with the second artbook just released by Udon. This gets deeper into each of the characters in the original game, showing all their sprites, discussing their character with the writer and illustrator in great detail, talking about the weapons used in the VN, and also showing off the original character sketches and commenting on them. There’s a lot more text here.

For the most part, this book limits itself to the characters from the original Fate, though it does assume that the reader is at least aware of its sequel, Fate/Hollow Ataraxia, as Bazett comes up in the ‘character relationship’ charts and is mentioned once or twice. We get long sections devoted to each of the three heroines, reminding you just how many sprites there are of each of them. Shirou, obviously, gets far less page time, as being the player character his sprites were rarely seen. We discuss why everyone loves Saber and how on earth she does her hair up like that (they agree she uses magic to achieve it), how much the strength of Rin as a complete character took the creators by surprise, and also how difficult they found it to distinguish Sakura and not make her main design “too boring” (the dangers of being the good, sweet girl).

Other surprises that I found within were the fact that Taiga, one of the most comedic characters in the game, was originally going to be a mature “big sister” type – and also get killed off, potentially. Needless to say, when the Taiga we know came into being the death got deep-sixed, and instead we get things like the Tiger Dojo. If you look at the character sketch section, you can see Taiga’s original design, and in fact it’s Ayako – something the authors readily admit, the illustrator just repurposed the old Taiga sketches for Rin’s friend. I was also amused at the discussion of Rin’s other friends, who only appear in the opening prologue. You wonder why they bothered to have sprites at all, and the creators explain they were told to add some as it was felt there just weren’t enough characters.

There’s three more artbooks after this, though I don’t know if Udon has licensed them all. The third shows us backgrounds, Tiger Dojo stuff, and the new CG and sprites added for the PS2 version; the fourth goes into all the other Fate spinoffs that aren’t Ataraxia (at least, spinoffs at the time the book came out, which was six years ago), and the 5th is the Ataraxia-focused book. If they’re anything like the job Udon has done with this artbook, they’ll be a treat. Essential for Fate fans.

How a Realist Hero Rebuilt the Kingdom, Vol. 1

by

By Dojyomaru and Fuyuyuki. Released in Japan by Overlap, Inc. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Sean McCann.

There is a certain variety of story that has been seen more and more often lately. It usually is fanfiction, but as we’ll see, doesn’t always have to be. It usually involves the author (almost always a young male in their late teens or early 20s) reading a work and liking the general idea, but feeling the execution just wasn’t… badass enough. Or the main character was friends with the wrong people. Or the world was run in a nonsensical way, and things would be far better if everyone just had more common sense and thought things through. (These stories also usually involves a large number of heroines deciding they’re OK with sharing the love of the hero in happy polyamory, possibly as they were mostly written by late teen-early 20s boys.) The most famous example is probably Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality, but if you’re looking for something along those lines but in an original work, Realist Hero may be right up your alley.

“But wait,” you say, “I thought you said this wasn’t fanfiction!” Indeed, it’s an original story in the isekai genre, of a young man summoned to another world to defeat a demon king, but who instead puts his college learning to good use teaching modern politics, economic theory, and the essentials of running a city to good use, becoming the king and ending up engaged to the crown princess seen in the cover. “But… that’s Saber, right? Saber Red, to be precise.” Don’t be silly, that is not Saber Red. It merely looks just like her. Not a surprise, as the illustrator’s pixiv page basically contains the cover for Realist Hero 1 and a ton of Fate/GO art. That is Princess Liscia, who warms to our hero over the course of the book, acts as a student for all the modern ways he’s teaching them, and in return teaches him about the little known facts of their fantasy kingdom, like the polyamory. Which is probably fortunate as he also gets a hot elf bodyguard and singer/temptress/big sister figure to fall for him (I’m ignoring the loli for the moment), and seems to be adding a feisty young dragonet noble, manipulative princess of the country next door, and tsundere thief to the mix in future books.

I’ve been fairly glib in this review, but I will happily admit the book is something of a hoot to read. It wears its heart on its sleeve, and while I wish it would tone down the Machiavelli (using The Prince as a guidebook on how to run a country is never, IMO, a good idea, especially as some scholars think The Prince was meant to be satire), the lead is actually likeable and not the massive jerk you sometimes see in these sorts of stories. His suggestions are sensible, but don’t always work out perfectly, and I like the fact that we move forward over several months as the book progresses. (There’s also a narrative device where sometimes we hear “little did they know that in thirty years time, this would become etcetcetc.”, which I also liked.) If you’re looking for an isekai that’s light, breezy fun (though the second volume implies there may be war on the horizon), this should fit the bill nicely.

Erased, Vol. 1

by

By Kei Sanbe. Released in Japan in two separate volumes as “Boku Dake ga Inai Machi” by Kadokawa Shoten, serialized in the magazine Young Ace. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Sheldon Drzka.

I didn’t really know much about this going into it at all. The author is known for dark psychological stuff, and this title certainly qualifies. It also had an anime, which I also haven’t seen. I was thus unprepared for what a good, solid mystery series this would be, with several surprising fake-outs, both plot and character based, and a likeable but very flawed lead hero. It also seems to be examining child abuse, something I’m always pleased to see in Japanese manga, though sometimes I feel it only glosses over the root issues. That doesn’t seem to be the case here, though, and Erased is not only well-written but emotionally raw – it took me a while to finish the volume as it was hard to read in one sitting.

Our hero is Satoru, a wannabe manga artist who unfortunately is somewhat withdrawn and reserved – his manga fails because he doesn’t put enough of himself into his work. We gradually discover this is partly due to a tragedy that happened to him as a child, which he has been repressing memories of. His non-manga job is pizza delivery boy, where he has somewhat stilted conversations with his cute co-worker, who he feels is too young for him and in any case isn’t interested in him anyway. He also has a strange ability to “fix” things that are about to happen, which may or may not be tied into the past tragedy he had. When a tragedy is about to occur, he times loops for a few minutes till he can identify and fix what’s going to happen. Of course, sometimes he’s not there to fix things. And when his mother is murdered, partly as a result of something he thought he’d fixed, he collapses and finds himself back in elementary school, reliving his childhood to try to erase the original tragedy.

Satoru is not all that likeable a hero, but in a character development sort of way rather than an aggravating way. He’s our POV character, so for a time we tend to agree with him – in the early pages, his mother comes across as rather pushy and annoying, and it’s only as the series goes on that we see how smart and together she really is. As a kid he still has the memories of his 29-year-old self, but manages to act like a child most of the time anyway – I particularly liked his thinking something blunt and saying it aloud without realizing it at the same time. We also meet the truculent and reserved Kayo, who was the girl whose murder was the start of the tragedy he’s now trying to prevent. His attempts to stop the murder, save her from an abusive household and bring her out of her shell are awkward yet heartfelt, and seem true to life – or at least as true to life as a Peggy Sue time travel mystery can be.

This is being released here, I believe, in four omnibuses, and I’ll definitely be picking up the second one. It makes for unnerving and difficult reading at times, but it does what you want a new series to do – it makes me want to read on to find out what’s happening next.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Parts One and Two by J. K. Rowling, John Tiffany, and Jack Thorne

by

Note: This is the rehearsal script edition. A definitive collectors’ edition will be released at a later date.

hp8Harry Potter and the Cursed Child joins Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight in the category of “ostensibly canon series continuations that I shall henceforth pretend do not exist.”

The play begins with an abbreviated version of the Deathly Hallows epilogue. Albus Potter, Rose Granger-Weasley, and Scorpius Malfoy head off for their first year at Hogwarts, where Albus and Scorpius are soon sorted into Slytherin. That’s an interesting development and I was still rather optimistic at this point, but sadly there’s hardly any exploration of this event before Albus is in his second year. Then third. Along the way there are brief episodes of scorn and failure and glimpses of his strong friendship with Scorpius—along with lines like “he’s all I need” that make me want to see them fall in love—but it’s all very cursory.

On the eve of his fourth year, Albus happens to overhear Cedric Diggory’s family asking Harry (now head of Magical Law Enforcement) to use a recently confiscated time-turner to go back and save Cedric. Harry declines, and Albus—who has become a surly teen full of angst and bitterness—decides that he and Scorpius are going to show up his uncaring father by saving the day themselves. Of course, they end up screwing up the timeline (though not before successfully accomplishing some things that really ought to have been made more difficult) and the adult characters must help them set things right. Meanwhile, Harry’s scar has started hurting again and he’s hearing whispers of parseltongue.

I would’ve liked this a lot more if it was a book about the boys and their time at school. As it is now, the plot’s too accelerated and simplistic, and there are some scenes with the adult characters that I really could have done without (though I did like seeing Harry and Draco work together to save their sons). That said, probably the best thing about Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is its treatment of Slytherins. Not only does Draco show himself to be a decent, wounded person, but he’s raised a truly adorable, geeky son who has his share of heroic moments. Too, one of the timeline variants allows us another glimpse at Snape, still honoring Lily by fighting for the cause she believed in even when all seems lost.

Ultimately, I’m glad I read it, because I do really, truly love Scorpius. I’d love a whole book about Scorpius, in fact, provided it was a proper book written by Rowling and not more of this.

Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash, Vol. 2

by

By Ao Jyumonji and Eiri Shirai. Released in Japan by Overlap, Inc. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Sean McCann.

As I have observed many times in the past in my reviews, I am not all that much of a gamer. Sometimes this makes it hard to follow various aspects of Japanese light novels, many of which depend on knowledge of how RPG systems work. But it also means that I may not have the patience for the sort of level-raising behavior that these games, and subsequently these light novels, involve. This second volume does a lot of character building work, and by “a lot” I mean that Haruhiro, Ranta, and to a lesser extent Merry get more development. It’s good development too, as this series has a lot of reflection on the best way to act like a leader or a team player. This does not obscure the fact, however, that the plot of this second volume involves “kill things” for the entire length of the book.

For all that I complain about Ranta, sometimes Haruhiro can also be annoying fro different reasons. He’s never really had to lead before, and has no idea how the mindset of a leader works, and so is constantly doubting himself and criticizing his decisions when things go wrong. He seems to think that this is just him rather than the norm, but I think the problem may simply be that “leader” types never get the inner monologue that we get from him here, and in fact also think about these things all the time. Stepping back and looking at things from an outside perspective, we see he is getting better at making decisions, takes responsibility, and his battle skills are also improving. I think Merry can see this best (I don’t see this series as having much romance, but if it did, they’re the obvious pair).

Speaking of Merry, she’s able to put a few of her own demons to rest in this book, though she notably does not get an inner monologue. Ranta does, though, which confirms a lot of what we already know about him. He’s hotheaded and stubborn, but also tends to act this way as a pose half the time, and is frustrated that the rest of the group doesn’t understand him better – especially as Haruhiro seems to understand the other party members fine. But Haruhiro and Ranta have a complex relationship, more than just boke and tsukkomi, and only time is going to fix that. Luckily, the near loss of Ranta at the climax of the book seems to have united them a bit more closely (if he gets paired with anyone, it’ll be Yume, who’s already sparring with him in best Ranma and Akane tradition).

So good characterization, and the fights are pretty good. That said, if we don’t get something actually happening in the third book besides “kill things, level up”, I may let this series go. It’s a good examination of how “trapped in an RPG world” would go if it were realistic, but it’s sometimes simply too realistic, i.e. it’s a slog.

The Full-Time Wife Escapist, Vol. 1

by

By Tsunami Umino. Released in Japan as “Nigeru wa Haji da ga Yaku ni Tatsu” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Kiss. Released in North America digitally by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Rose Padgett.

It is a rare series that can immediately win me over within the first five pages. In fact, I’ve long been an advocate of giving series a chance beyond one volume, especially if they are of the “horrible person is changed by the plotline of the manga” type stories. But sometimes I start a manga and I know immediately I’m going to fall in love with it. This is that sort of manga – when I saw Mikuri being “interviewed” about the difficulties she’s having with her life, and realized that she was imagining this in her head, I grinned. And when I saw this would actually be a recurring thing, I cheered. Not only are these segments some of the funniest in the volume, but they also serve to help deepen the characterization of the main heroine, who is otherwise very matter-of-fact and calm. It’s a great device.

The premise is laid out right at the start. Mikuri kept doing college because it was hard to find a job, but now she’s post-grad and still can’t find work, and even temp agencies aren’t working out. She’s living with her parents as well, which proves to be problematic when they decide to retire to the country, meaning she needs work and a place to stay NOW. Luckily, she’s been doing a part-time job cleaning house and basically functioning as a wife-figure for Tsuzaki, an introverted guy who tends to say what he thinks and has minimal social skills. They get on fairly well (it helps that Mikuri’s degree is in psychology, so she’s much better at reading people than the average manga protagonist), and suddenly it becomes apparent that this is a solution to her problems. They could marry on paper, and she could function as a full-time wife (minus wifely duties, so to speak) and get health benefits and the like.

In case you hadn’t already guessed, this is a josei series. It is, in fact, the sort of josei we don’t usually see brought over here – a lot of the josei we’ve seen in the past few years I’ve defined as “shoujo with adults”, as you find the same love misunderstandings, fretting, and breakups that you would in a high school shoujo magazine. This seems more grounded in the real world – indeed, a big surprise for me is how little romance there is in this first volume. Clearly the endgame will be getting these two quirky kids together for real, but I like how it’s a slow burn, and that we’re starting to see it on his end but not on hers. In fact, it’s even bluntly laid out in their agreement that they can see other people as long as they’re discreet. That may be tested soon, as it appears that Tsuzaki’s co-worker may be starting to fall for Mikuri, and his other co-worker seems to have realized their marriage is not a genuine one.

The supporting cast is also good – I particularly liked Mikuri’s aunt, who shows that you can regret not having a romance when you’re in your fifties but still have a happy and fulfilling life. Tsuzaki’s friend Numata is also gay, and occasionally acts the stereotype, but even this is subtler than I was expecting. What I’m left with is a good story with great characters and an interesting style, one that I really want to see play out in future volumes. It also has a live-action series under its belt, so apparently did pretty well in Japan as well. Read this, you’ll love it.

Wave, Listen to Me!, Vols. 1-2

by

By Hiroaki Samura | Published digitally by Kodansha Comics

In the opening scene of Wave, Listen to Me! we meet Minare Koda, an attractive twenty-something drinking too much and pouring her heart out to a guy she just met forty minutes prior. She’s ranting about her ex, Mitsuo, and after a certain point, she has no recollection of events. To her surprise, when she’s at work the next day (as a waitress in a curry shop), she hears her own voice being played over the radio. Turns out, the guy she met was Kanetsugu Mato, who works for a radio station and recorded their conversation. (One of the things she’d forgotten was drunkenly giving her consent.) Minare is temperamental and feisty, so when she marches down to the station to give him a piece of her mind, she ends up going live on the air and impressing Mato with her facility for impromptu eloquence.

Bored with doling out radio spots to local idols and placating sponsors, Mato decides that he’s going to mentor Minare and turn her into a radio personality. Of course, the only shift on offer is in the wee hours of the morning once a week, so she can’t quit her waitressing job yet. (She’s always on the verge of being fired as it is.) Still, she begins to truly contemplate her future for the first time. Coworker Nakahara is interested in her, but more in the “one day I’ll have my own shop and I want you there beside me” kind of way. But after she witnesses him offering a new (female) hire a place to stay, her gaze turns ever more resolutely to her new gig.

Volume two is where things really get great. Mato has inventive ideas for Minare’s show, and I think I will let readers discover those for themselves. What I really loved, though, was the continued exploration of Minare’s personality. For example, when she has the jitters and receives reassurance, she cries, “I can feel it rushing back! My usual baseless, overflowing confidence!” She might have come off as an unsympathetic and abrasive character, but that line shows that she’s fully aware of her flaws. Later, after a brief (and awesome) reunion with Mitsuo, she displays a knack for more self-analysis, reflecting that while she usually doesn’t take shit from anyone, she has a certain weakness for pathetic guys who need someone to dote over them. I expect that this capacity for reflection will allow her to make the most of the opportunity she’s been given.

Her path toward achieving success and truly making a name for herself doesn’t proceed in a straight trajectory, especially with financial realities keeping her tethered to the restaurant, but it’s very satisfying to see a formerly unambitious character discover a goal to strive for. The second volume ends in the middle of a show designed to put thoughts of Mitsuo firmly behind her. I am very much looking forward to seeing what lies ahead!

Wave, Listen to Me! is ongoing in Japan, where it is currently up to three volumes.

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Occultic;Nine, Vol. 2

by

By Chiyomaru Shikura and pako. Released in Japan by Overlap, Inc. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Adam Lensenmayer.

This volume of Occultic;Nine does what it needs to do, which is begin to draw together the many and varied elements of the first book and show they’re all part of the same main plotline. It does actually shift genres a bit, as signposted by the end of the first book; that one may have been a mystery, and there are certainly still mysterious elements, but this second volume crosses over into outright horror much of the time. Unfortunately, its faults are still carrying over from the first book as well. While it does begin to draw together said elements, everything still changes viewpoints and tonal shifts a bit too much for my liking. And it’s still left with Yuta Gamon as the protagonist, and he’s really, really aggravating – yes, it’s deliberate, but that doesn’t actually make it easier to take.

To be fair, he’s had a bad day – he’s right in that any sane police officer who has his presence in the room and his fingerprints on the murder weapon would have arrested him by now. Luckily we have another one of the eccentric cast members as the detective, and he enjoys playing with his food, I guess, preferring to torment Yuta with cryptic conversations. Unfortunately, Yuta’s coping mechanism is to double down on being obnoxious, something which is fine by Ryoka, who still gets nothing to do this volume, but is starting to worry his new friend Miyuu, who was already somewhat wary of him (her friend basically says he’s a creep and why do you care?), but he’s falling back into familiar behavior patterns to cope, even if they’re bad ones. Also, he clearly hasn’t read any genre fiction at all, or he’d know that introducing everyone to the mystery radio voice only he can hear was never going to fly.

As for the main plot, the corpses in the lake that were briefly signposted last time become a big deal when they’re discovered this time around, and the clever reader will start to realize what’s actually going on when it takes forever and a day to actually identify said corpses. There’s a lot of somewhat interesting talk about acceptance of the occult versus looking for an actual realistic reason for said corpses, but the fact that said reason also sounds ludicrous and the reader is also getting the mystery organization of evil talking about their corpse plans tends to ruin it. Again, as with the first book, the ending is the strongest part – first, the darkest and most horrible part of the book (which completely rips off the movie Se7en, but is still well written), and second, the final revelation that Yuta figures out when he gets all the names of the bodies in the lake. What will Volume 3 bring us?

Good question, but one we’ll wait a while to answer – the third volume is not out in Japan yet, and I suspect the author is concentrating on finishing the visual novel, which is due out this year. In the meantime, there are bits of good and bad here. I’d recommend it to fans of this creator.

Dissolving Classroom

by

The title of Junji Ito’s latest work is a nod to one of his seminal influences: Kazuo Umezu, author of such bat-shit classics as Cat-Eyed Boy, Orochi Blood, and, of course, The Drifting Classroom. Using the same techniques as Umezu — shocking imagery, gross-out humor, and far-out plot twists — Ito spins an elaborate yarn about the mysterious Azawa siblings. Yuuma, the handsome older brother, seems like a model teenager: he strenuously avoids conflicts with peers, and is unfailingly polite to his elders. Younger sister Chizumi, by contrast, is a hellion. With her kohl-rimmed eyes and Cheshire-cat sneer, she looks like a junior Harley Quinn as she gleefully stalks classmates, harasses her brother’s girlfriend, and vigorously disputes her brother’s claims of parental neglect.

Each chapter of the Dissolving Classroom hinges on the discovery that Yuuma and Chizumi are not who they seem to be. In “Dissolving Apartment,” for example, the Azawas’ new neighbors are initially impressed by Yuuma’s composure and maturity, and are moved to intervene when they overhear nightly rows at the Azawas’ unit. Though appalled by Chizumi’s crude pranks and bizarre comments, the neighbors see her behavior as evidence that Mr. and Mrs. Azawa are abusing their children, an impression confirmed by the parents’ secretive behavior. Only when the neighbors interrupt one of the family’s heated skirmishes do they realize the true parent-child dynamic in the Azawa home — knowledge that comes too late to save them from a gory fate.

Other stories approach the question of false appearances from a different angle. In “Dissolving Beauty,” for example, Yuuma behaves like a teenage girl’s fantasy of the perfect boyfriend: he’s attentive and reassuring, always ready to declare, “Your beauty is exceptional.” What his girlfriend doesn’t realize is that Yuuma’s flattery is toxic — that in appealing to her vanity and insecurity, Yuuma’s words are warping her into a grotesque caricature of her former self. And when I say grotesque, I mean it; the poor thing resembles Margaret Hamilton in The Wizard of Oz, right down to the boils and pointy chin.

Although Ito’s scenarios lack the visceral weirdness of Kazuo Umezu’s, Ito’s superior draftsmanship serves him well in Dissolving Classroom. Yuuma provides an instructive example: as Ito draws him, he’s the epitome of the nice young man, a blandly handsome canvas onto which adults and teens can project their own desires. His exaggerated gestures — downcast eyes, supplicating posture — initially register as desperation, as if he’s apologizing for a political scandal or an international diplomatic incident. Look closer, however, and we see a note of eroticism in the way Ito draws Yuuma’s face; those rolled eyes are more expression of ecstasy than shame, hinting at Yuuma’s real reason for bowing and scraping.

Ito seeds the narrative with other visual clues about what’s motivating Yuuma: demonic eyes peering through a veil of fog, a clandestine animal cemetery. When we finally learn Yuuma’s not-so-surprising secret, Ito pulls out all the stops. The climax is a molten flow of brains, limbs, and entrails that’s amusingly reminiscent of the Ark of the Covenant scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark. The effect is less scary than preposterous, but suggests that we’re all too willing to believe that a grand display of manners is evidence of good character, rather than an effort to deflect attention away from egregious behavior.

It’s only in the bonus story “Children of the Earth” that we see Ito at his most Umezian — the Ito familiar from Gyo, Uzumaki, and Tomie. In this brief vignette, parents frantically scour the woods for a missing kindergarten class. What they discover is genuinely unnerving: their children have transformed into something not quite human, not quite animal, and not quite vegetable, sitting uncomfortably between these three planes of existence. Ito’s nightmarish imagery harkens back to the yokai prints of Tsukioka Yoshitoshi and Utagawa Kuniyoshi in which ordinary creatures — catfish, tanuki — became monstrous through the addition of exaggerated human features. But “Children of the Earth” also has affinities with Umezu’s manga; like Umezu, Ito is good at excavating the subconscious, making us confront our most disturbing thoughts and dreams in Grand Guignol fashion.

If the rest of Dissolving Classroom doesn’t quite reach the same Umezian heights — or is that depths? — as “Children of the Earth,” it still makes a fine introduction to Ito’s work. It’s coherently plotted, crisply drawn, and provocative enough to make all that gory excess meaningful. Recommended.

DISSOLVING CLASSROOM • BY JUNJI ITO • VERTICAL COMICS • NO RATING (SUITABLE FOR TEENS 13 AND OLDER)

Monthly Girls’ Nozaki-kun, Vol. 6

by

By Izumi Tsubaki. Released in Japan as “Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun” by Square Enix, serialization ongoing in the online magazine Gangan Online. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Leighann Harvey.

In terms of the Nozaki-kun fandom, one of the fortunate things about it is that there really aren’t very many ship wars. For the most part, this is because the main pairings in the manga, even though none of them are actually romantically paired, are so blindingly obvious – Nozaki and Sakura, Hori and Kashima, and Seo and Wakamatsu. The one wild card has always been Mikoshiba, and it’s therefore no surprise that fan writers love him. I’ve seen him used as an alternate pairing with Sakura, just in case she ever tires of Nozaki (doubt it will ever happen, but hope springs eternal), and I’ve also seen quite a few Nozaki/Sakura/Mokoshiba OT3 fics. But the addition of Nozaki’s brother Mayu gave BL fans someone new to focus on, and this volume must have delighted them, because not only are Mikoshiba and Mayu comedy gold but they’re also very, very shippable.

A lot of the humor in Nozaki-kun relies on building from previous gags and characterizations, as you’d expect. Mikoshiba is the inspiration for the heroine in Nozaki’s manga, so when Nozkai discovers he’s getting cute texts from someone else, and that he’s responding as “Mamiko”, he gets fired up in the best Nozaki way. Meanwhile Kashima is having trouble dealing with her new role, which requires “wistfulness”, and when given the choice between Sakura’s practical advice and Nozaki’s romantic, thinking like a writer advice, she knows exactly who to turn to. Nozaki has the brilliant idea (no, really, it is this time) of having her avoid and not speak to Hori for three days. Sure enough, this nearly kills her just by the end of one day – and, even better, Hori is somewhat poleaxed by it as well.

Elsewhere, we get Wakamatsu’s amazingly inept acting, the dangers of playing a visual novel and not using the default names, and Miyako’s fellow mangaka relationship with Nozaki continuing to be misunderstood by the guy who’s crushing on her… who, because this manga is very close-knit, turns out to be Seo’s big brother. We also meet several other author’s in the magazine that Nozaki’s published in, and they all seem to have their own eccentricities, though they can all agree on one thing – Nozaki’s manga is generic and dull. Honestly, it’s something of a surprise it hasn’t been cancelld by now, but I think that the ‘Nozaki tries to find the idea for a new series’ plot is being saved for a rainy day – that and the tie-ins to real life are too much fun to drop. Possibly best of all, Mikoshiba needs to have someone pretend to be his girlfriend, and each of the three main options are hilarious.

Nozaki-kun remains hilarious, and the hilarity is because of its character-based humor. Unless you can’t stand anything to do with 4-koma or tsukkomi-0style humor, you should be reading this every time it comes out.

Very few tanukis this time around – we are running a tanuki defecit.

The Water Dragon’s Bride, Vol. 1

by

The Water Dragon’s Bride Volume 1 by Rei Toma

I remember being delighted when I heard that another Rei Toma title was going to be released by Viz. Then many months passed between the announcement and actually getting the volume in my hand, I totally forgot about it and then was delighted all over again! I do enjoy fantasy manga and this volume was an excellent start to the series.

Asahi is a modern girl who has the misfortune of standing too close to a pond, where she is promptly whisked away to a village with no technology whose inhabitants don’t quite know what to make of her. A young boy named Subaru stumbles across Asahi and takes her home despite his sister’s protests. Unfortunately the village has a habit of offering up human sacrifices to the Water Dragon, and when Subaru brings home his new friend his mother decides that the odd girl will be a great way to ensure the prosperity of her family. Asahi is a bit stunned by being catapulted into another world and she doesn’t realize that she’s going to be a sacrifice until it is too late. Subaru tries to prevent the ritual but is unable to do anything to save his new friend.

Asahi finds herself in the Water Dragon’s realm. He’s a cold, stoic sort of god who says that he’ll wait to make Asahi his bride until she grows up. She asks him if he’s wearing cosplay and accuses him of being a pervert. The Water Dragon seems to find Asahi mildly entertaining, but he takes away her voice and then sits calmly while she starts to starve. Asahi finally realizes that the world she’s lost in is horrible. Other gods intervene to see some drama when Subaru and Asahi are reunited, but the humans in Subaru’s village prove to be even more terrible than the gods.

I think that Toma’s art, which was always good, has improved since Dawn of the Arcana. Her clear and simple style does a great job highlighting all the variants in facial expressions and reactions as the characters deal with the extraordinary. Subaru’s mother shows hints of evil in her smirk, and then devolves into full-out evil as she takes on the role of putting Asahi to trial for being rejected by the gods. Asahi’s personality is inherently bubbly and open, and it takes her a while to realize the truth of the world that she’s found herself in. Her body language completely changes after meeting the Water Dragon and the villagers. There aren’t a lot of detailed backgrounds in this manga, but the absence of setting is used to great effect when Asahi is in the Water Dragon’s world because the lack of detail in Asahi’s surroundings just makes everything seem even more surreal.

The inhumanity of the humans and the possibility that a god might change due to having to take care of a small girl are interesting themes for this manga to explore. This is a solid shoujo fantasy title and I strongly recommended it for fans of the genre.

A Certain Magical Index, Vol. 10

by

By Kazumi Kamachi and Kiyotaka Haimura. Released in Japan as “To Aru Majutsu no Index” by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Prowse.

This picks up immediately after the end of the previous volume, as befits a two-part arc. In fact, Kamachi helpfully provides a recap for anyone who may have somehow skipped the previous book. I had wondered if we’d get more athletic events for the festival, but no, sadly the festival is mostly offscreen for Touma, as he spends 4/5 of the volume chasing after Oriana Thomson, watching her nearly kill his friends, and arguing with her on the nature of doing good and how it’s impossible for everyone to share the same view, ethics, or religion – it’s all influenced by their own head. Luckily, the Roman Catholic Church is coming to the rescue to change everyone’s minds into their own! For some strange reason, Touma objects to this…

Introduced in this volume: no one! Given this is the second in a two-parter, we get no new characters. That said, Lidvia certainly gets a lot more to do here, and she’s really not a pleasant person at all, though when given Lady of the Tiger choice she at least attempts to do the right thing by choosing Lady AND Tiger. We also see Laura Stuart (or rather hear Laura Stuart) at her most devious and cunning – Lidvia has a long way to go to get to Laura’s level. Himegami also gets a larger role in this book, and it once again reflects on her status as a “failed heroine” – she wants to do romantic things with Touma, but he’s too busy saving the world, and in the end she ends up an innocent victim who Touma doesn’t even have the time to rescue – Stiyl and Komoe-sensei have to do it. (I will simply ignore the ship tease between Stiyl and Komoe in this book, because eurgh.)

Luckily she’s cheered up by Index, who also gets very little to do this book, but that’s by design, as most of the Magic Side know that Index is a plot maguffin and so they have to keep an eye on her to see what’s going to happen. Of course, finding out Touma is once again getting himself hospitalized without her knowing anything makes her grumpier. I find Index far more tolerable in prose form – no offense to Yuka Iguchi, but I think Index herself simply sounds less stupid in the books as opposed to the anime. She’s the emotional core of the series, and it’s her purity that inspires many other characters – most obviously Touma and Stiyl here. (She also gets a great line about Peter Pan when looking at the youthful looks of Touma and Mikoto’s mothers, which the anime sadly cut.)

The book itself does its level best to conceal its big secret: this entire runaround was pointless, and chasing after Oriana was meant to be a distraction. Luckily, like follows like, and pointless follows pointless – for all that Lidvia succeeds in her ritual, it’s useless due to Academy City’s fireworks show lighting up the sky. I think one reason Index is so upset is that she could have saved him a lot of running around and injuries by simply having hm ask her, but then when you’re a walking magic wikipedia… In any case, a good volume, and less magic theory than the 9th book (though we still get some, mostly related to astrology). Next time, Index Does Italy!

Hayate the Combat Butler, Vol. 29

by

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

Hayate Ayasaki is a very good butler. That’s pretty much the premise of the entire manga. As a butler, he’s smooth, always knows what to do, and provides the girls he waits on with whatever they desire. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that’s why they fell for him, as in fact each of them has different, non-butler reasons for that. But it’s striking if only because in Hayate’s other role as a harem protagonist in a romantic comedy manga, he’s absolutely terrible. He’s very good in terms of what Hata needs to convey in the writing. But much of Hayate’s so-called “bad luck” can also be put down to wishy-washiness, cowardice, and the complete inability to understand the trembling of a pure maiden’s heart. It’s why we’re 29 volumes in and disasters keep piling up for him.

The disaster doesn’t happen in this particular volume, but we know that at some point in the near future, Ruka is going to discover that Hayate is a guy, and there will be hell to pay. Of course, this is played for max comedy – every time he thinks he can confess, she says the one thing that stops him from doing so – but it’s still a case where you want to put your face in your hands. She also, by the way, is trying to earn a large pile of cash to get herself out of debt because her parents are suckers – a similarity Hayate is quick to catch on to. It’s not the first time Hata has done this – Hina, too, has lost her birth parents due to “we abandoned you because of our debt” – but that at least had the excuse that it was part of his original outline for the series. Ruka’s past seems more like overegging the pudding.

The rest of the volume is for the most part a series of one-shots focusing on the cast, which I think Hata enjoys best. Alice talks with Hayate, and there’s some discussion of who she is, but not much – she says she’s lost her memories of Athena, but clearly knows she *is* Athena in some way. Also, don’t let dogs eat chocolate. Wataru and Saki also have money troubles, and even Sayaka literally loaning them a giant pile of money doesn’t help, particularly when Hayate gets involved. Speaking of Sayaka, she’s rather annoyed to find that the position of “Nagi’s (relatively) sane best friend) has been stolen by Chiharu, particularly since Chiharu is HER OWN MAID. As for Maria, well, she gets nothing to do except pose naked for the camera as pre fanservice, something Hata lampshades almost immediately. These are all pretty good chapters, not hilarious but quite amusing.

In the end, though, the plot will have to advance soon. Ruka will find out Hayate’s gender. Athena will eventually stop being a girl. And, one assumes, the manga will end. It’s coming to a close in Japan, but Viz still has a long way to go. See you in the fall for another volume.