• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Home
  • About Us
    • Privacy Policy
    • Comment Policy
    • Disclosures & Disclaimers
  • Resources
    • Links, Essays & Articles
    • Fandomology!
    • CLAMP Directory
    • BlogRoll
  • Features & Columns
    • 3 Things Thursday
    • Adventures in the Key of Shoujo
    • Bit & Blips (game reviews)
    • BL BOOKRACK
    • Bookshelf Briefs
    • Bringing the Drama
    • Comic Conversion
    • Fanservice Friday
    • Going Digital
    • It Came From the Sinosphere
    • License This!
    • Magazine no Mori
    • My Week in Manga
    • OFF THE SHELF
    • Not By Manga Alone
    • PICK OF THE WEEK
    • Subtitles & Sensibility
    • Weekly Shonen Jump Recaps
  • Manga Moveable Feast
    • MMF Full Archive
    • Yun Kouga
    • CLAMP
    • Shojo Beat
    • Osamu Tezuka
    • Sailor Moon
    • Fruits Basket
    • Takehiko Inoue
    • Wild Adapter
    • One Piece
    • After School Nightmare
    • Karakuri Odette
    • Paradise Kiss
    • The Color Trilogy
    • To Terra…
    • Sexy Voice & Robo
  • Browse by Author
    • Sean Gaffney
    • Anna Neatrour
    • Michelle Smith
    • Katherine Dacey
    • MJ
    • Brigid Alverson
    • Travis Anderson
    • Phillip Anthony
    • Derek Bown
    • Jaci Dahlvang
    • Angela Eastman
    • Erica Friedman
    • Sara K.
    • Megan Purdy
    • Emily Snodgrass
    • Nancy Thistlethwaite
    • Eva Volin
    • David Welsh
  • MB Blogs
    • A Case Suitable For Treatment
    • Experiments in Manga
    • MangaBlog
    • The Manga Critic
    • Manga Report
    • Soliloquy in Blue
    • Manga Curmudgeon (archive)

Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Reviews

Vinland Saga, Vol. 8

January 21, 2017 by Ash Brown

Vinland Saga, Omnibus 8Creator: Makoto Yukimura
Translator: Stephen Paul
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781682335406
Released: December 2016
Original release: 2014-2015
Awards: Japan Media Arts Award, Kodansha Manga Award

For a time it seemed as though the fate of the English-language edition of Makoto Yukimura’s epic award-winning manga series Vinland Saga was in question. Happily though, Kodansha Comics has been able to continue releasing the series. While the seventh omnibus reached a satisfying conclusion to one of the series’ major story arcs, it was still obvious that Yukimura had more to tell. I honestly believe that Vinland Saga is one of the strongest manga currently being released in English. It is also a personal favorite of mine, so I was thrilled when the eighth hardcover omnibus was finally released in 2016, collecting the fifteenth and sixteenth volumes of the original Japanese edition published between 2014 and 2015. Unlike the past few omnibuses of Vinland Saga, there is no additional content directly relating to the series (I was sad not to see the continuation of the “Ask Yukimura” section), but it does include an extensive preview of Kazuhiro Fujita’s The Ghost and the Lady, another historically-inspired manga available from Kodansha.

Finally free from his life of slavery but still bound by the violence of his past, Thorfinn travels back to Iceland in order to briefly reunite with his family before setting into motion his plans for the future. Accompanied by Einar, Leif, and “Bug-Eyes,” Thorfinn intends to colonize Vinland in an attempt to create a peaceful settlement far removed from the wars and violence seemingly inherent to the Norse way of life. But before that they must first secure the resources and supplies needed for the venture and support from others will be hard to come by–Thorfinn has very little to offer a potential investor except for ideals and his own life. Initially it seemed that they could secure the aid of Halfdan, a wealthy landowner who was already planning to become a relative of Leif’s by marrying his son to the widow of Lief’s brother, but then the wedding doesn’t go quite as planned. Thorfinn and the others may very well have gained themselves a few new enemies when they flee Iceland with Gudrid, the runaway bride.

Vinland Saga, Omnibus 8, page 50From the beginning, many of the women in Vinland Saga have been strong, memorable characters (Thorfinn’s sister and mother in particular are marvelous), but for the most part the focus of the series has been on the stories of the men. However, with the eighth omnibus there is a notable change in the manga with he introduction of Gudrid who becomes one of the main characters of Vinland Saga. In fact, a great deal of the plot currently directly revolves around her. I absolutely adore Gudrid. Like Thorfinn, she is struggling against the constraints of what is considered acceptable by the culture and traditions of their society. She has absolutely no interest in marriage or in behaving like a “proper” woman; her heart has always been set on exploring the world around her and expanding her horizons. Gudrid repeatedly proves that her worth is equal to or even greater than that of a man. Eventually, her persistence and brashness pays off although the circumstances surrounding her becoming a sailor are admittedly less than ideal.

Gudrid isn’t the only great female character to be introduced in the eighth Vinland Saga omnibus. Among others, there is also Astrid, Halfdan’s wife, and Hild, a young woman who proves once more that Thorfinn can never truly escape his past misdeeds. While many of the previous omnibuses have been battle-oriented, the eight omnibus tends to pay more attention to the characters themselves and their relationships. However, there are still a few excellent action sequences and Yukimura’s artwork continues to be dynamic and dramatic even when physical violence is not as prominent. For example, Halfdan exudes an aura of intensity and power–the way he is drawn and visually framed is frequently reminiscent of the way King Canute was portrayed, emphasizing his status and influence. This, of course, makes it even more satisfying when Astrid calmly, quietly, and fearlessly puts her husband in his place. (I really hope to see more of Astrid in the future.) Vinland Saga remains an incredibly well-done manga. With a growing cast of fantastic, complex characters, an engrossing story exploring themes of freedom and violence, and excellent artwork, I can’t wait to read more.

Filed Under: REVIEWS Tagged With: Japan Media Arts Award, kodansha, Kodansha Comics, Kodansha Manga Award, Makoto Yukimura, manga, Vinland Saga

BL Bookrack: Ten Count, Vols. 1-2

January 19, 2017 by MJ and Michelle Smith 5 Comments

MJ: Wow, it’s been… a long time hasn’t it, my friend?

MICHELLE: I am scared to even verify how long it has been. A couple of years, at least!

MJ: So what’s brought us here today is the boys’ love series Ten Count (volumes one and two ) by Rihito Takarai, published here by SuBLime. From what I understand, the series has reached five volumes (ongoing) in Japan. The third volume is due out from SuBLime next month.

MICHELLE: Would you like to start?

MJ: Sure!

Shirotani is a lifelong germaphobe, resigned to his condition, though it keeps him isolated from others. Fortunately, with the help of his understanding employer, he is able to tolerate his job as secretary to a corporate CEO. It is in the corporate line of duty, then, that he first meets Kurose, a therapist at a local mental health clinic. Kurose notices Shirotani’s condition immediately, and suggests he seek help, but though Shirotani is able to make his way to the clinic, he can’t bring himself to go inside. Acknowledging this difficulty, Kurose offers to help him in a non-clinical capacity, as a friend, an arrangement to which Shirotani eventually agrees. As Kurose slowly helps him accomplish progressively difficult tasks (touching a doorknob with his bare hand, buying a book from a bookstore), the two become close in ways that complicates their relationship and threatens the fragile boundaries between them.

Fans of BL manga don’t need me to explain what that means, or probably why my greatest fear with this series would be that the therapist/patient dynamic (even in the context of them being “friends”) would create a problematic imbalance of power. And it does, though not right away. Had I read only the first volume, this paragraph would be a very different one, gratefully dismissing my fears and filled with satisfied discussion of their slowly-evolving relationship and lots of talk about how that kind of careful development is so rare and wonderful in this genre. Had I read only the first volume, I would have declared a lot of love for this series. Unfortunately, Kurose’s careful handling of Shirotani is abandoned less than two chapters into the second volume, when after declaring his love for Shirotani, he mercilessly forces him into accepting sexual contact (against Shirotani’s clear protestations), which only escalates as the volume continues. In fact, Shirotani’s germaphobia makes the situation even more brutal, as Kurose is not only performing non-consensual sexual acts with Shirotani, but also blatantly ignoring Shirotani’s boundaries regarding skin-to-skin contact without any of the thoughtful consideration he promised as part of their initial arrangement. It’s obvious that the author intended the germaphobia as a metaphorical stand-in for the typical uke resistance so popular in BL, but instead it just feels like piling on.

MICHELLE: What I found most interesting to contemplate is that Kurose does, in fact, give Shirotani opportunity to object. He warns him that he’s going to attempt these kinds of things if they continue to see each other, and asks questions like, “Did you really not like what we did a moment ago?” Sometimes, Shirotani is able to give voice to his objections, but he also holds back his disgust, and I have to think that’s because he doesn’t want to drive Kurose, the only person to whom he has any kind of close relationship, away. How much, then, does Shirotani actually reciprocate and how much is he just desperate to keep Kurose in his life?

If I had faith that Takarai was wanting us to consider this question in a thoughtful way, I’d be fairly happy. But there are a few comments, mostly in bonus stories or author asides, that make me think she is setting up a dominant/submissive paradigm in which Kurose simply enjoys seeing Shirotani squirm, and that is very troubling indeed.

MJ: Yeah, you’re right—he often does ask Shirotani for permission to do something, or for confirmation that he’s enjoying himself, but those check-ins feel pretty empty, considering the fact that he generally moves on with what he’s doing without anything resembling actual enthusiastic consent. And if she’s trying to set up a dominant/submissive relationship, she’s doing it 50 Shades style, which only furthers my discomfort. Kurose’s behavior becomes increasingly controlling over the course of the second volume, by the end of which he has not only violated most of Shirotani’s personal and sexual boundaries, but also has begun infantilizing him to a truly creepy degree. Between declaring a preference for a “childlike” hairstyle and outright asking Shirotani to agree to be “dependent” on him, Kurose has basically given up any pretense of respect or even basic acknowledgement of Shirotani’s agency as an (older!!) adult man. It is a testament to the strength of the series’ first volume that I’m even still reading this thing. But I would be lying if I said that it hadn’t broken my heart.

I understand that rape fantasy is a thing, and that it’s in poor taste to judge other people (especially femme-identified people, who are this genre’s target audience) for such fantasies. And on some level, I even understand a bit why someone’s fantasy might include giving up control, though I’d probably understand that better if we lived in a world where acknowledgement of a woman’s control over her own body was not considered a radical political act. I also understand that it’s, at the very least, pointless to wish for a story to be a different one than what its author wants to tell. I know that I should simply accept that something is not for me and move on. But after a full volume of something that *seems* to be for me, that truth can be difficult to swallow.

MICHELLE: Another thing that strikes me about the questions Kurose poses is how detached and clinical they can seem, even after a sexual act. One example is, “Were you more concerned with the possibility that I found you unpleasant than whether or not you found the situation itself unpleasant?” Leaving aside the tacit admission that he knows Shirotani could’ve been finding the situation unpleasant, attempting to reassert the therapist/patient dynamic at such a moment is, well, kind of creepy.

I’m not ready to give up on the series yet. Like I said, I want to believe Takarai is trying to make a more subtle point here, but I just don’t know. If volume three is more of the same, it might be too much for me, too.

MJ: Upsides of this series that extend beyond its fairly awesome first volume include Shirotani’s sweet, understanding boss, whose constant mindfulness regarding Shirotani’s discomfort and physical boundaries paint a picture of a pretty awesome guy. Similarly, Shirotani’s acquaintance from his company’s sales department, Mikami, proves himself over and over to be a good friend and a stand-up guy. It’s a shame that these characters, who operate without personal motive and truly seem to have Shirotani’s best interests at heart aren’t the people he trusts most. I can’t help but think that if either of them knew what was going on, they’d be the first to jump to Shirotani’s defense and help him get the hell out of the abusive relationship he’s been lured into by Kurose.

MICHELLE: I liked them, too! I really wanted to believe that Shirotani was indeed able to make progress in his therapy with Mikami, as he initially claimed to do, though we later learn he was lying in hopes that he could resume seeing Kurose. Perhaps it was some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, in a way. Like, he tried with Mikami, and had no success, and now he believes that Kurose is the key to moving forward, thus increasing his dependence. He is able to achieve some things for these people in his life, though, like when his desire to find a book to entertain his hospitalized boss results in a successful purchase at a bookstore.

Regarding Kurose and his motivations, do you think there’s still some reveal to come? When he has Shirotani write out the list of ten activities he feels aversion for, with ten being something he thinks he could never do, Shirotani leaves that one blank. Kurose refuses to divulge his reasons for helping Shirotani on his own time until Shirotani fills in that tenth item. Do we already know that it’s because he was falling in love? Or is it something like, “I’m secretly a major sadist”?

MJ: That’s a really good question! I feel like I have no idea. I mean, on one hand, things have gone so far at this point I’m sort of just expecting the usual “tortured uke” trope to continue from this point, with more and more uncomfortable sex scenes and less and less real storytelling. So I’m not as optimistic as I’d like. On one hand, the series obviously continues beyond this, but I wonder if it will continue to really explore and examine this relationship or whether it will just turn to side characters like so many deceivingly-long BL series do.

Your whole first paragraph, though, just reminds me how much I loved the first volume! Gah! I want to be optimistic!

MICHELLE: So do I, and part of me thinks there’s still room for something great to evolve from this. I’m thinking of Tomoko Yamashita’s marvelous The Night Beyond the Tricornered Window, actually, in which no sexual contact has occurred, but in which one lead (Hiyakawa) casually appropriates the body of the other (Mikado) in a way that alarms others but which the affected party chooses not to think too deeply about because with Hiyakawa around, he no longer feels alone or potentially crazy for his ability to see spirits. There are some definite parallels to Ten Count there, but Yamashita is more clearly going into a psychological direction with her story, whereas Takarai seems to be taking a more traditional, explicit route.

I will still read volume three, though. How about you?

MJ: I will probably give this series one more volume, yes, even though I don’t feel as optimistic as I wish I did. Also, I’ll second your shout-out to The Night Beyond the Tricornered Window, which manages to talk about consent more thoughtfully, despite its supernatural premise. In that series, there is at least another character screaming out, “THIS IS NOT OKAY” all the time, so that we’re aware that the author knows there is a problem. It makes all the difference in the world.

MICHELLE: Indeed it does.

MJ: Bottom line, though this series starts off as a thoughtful look at the slow development of a tricky but potentially important relationship between a lonely professional who becomes friendly with a younger mental health specialist, its second volume takes a dark turn, devolving into a tale of emotional abuse, sexual assault, and deeply broken trust. We’ll probably keep reading it, but buyer beware.

Filed Under: BL BOOKRACK, FEATURES & REVIEWS, MANGA REVIEWS, REVIEWS Tagged With: BL, boys' love, Rihito Takarai, SuBLime, Ten Count, Yaoi

Ranma 1/2, Vols. 35-36

January 19, 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.

I was quite excited by this omnibus of Ranma 1/2 when I got it. Not only does it feature not one but TWO appearances by Akari, my favorite minor character, but is also resolves a plot point. That may not seem like much to those of you who are used to plot and characterization in your manga, but this is Ranma 1/2, the title where everything is done for the humor, and everything will always snap back with few if any lessons learned. Taking this manga and these characters seriously is, as we’ve learned, a mug’s game. But yes, we actually get forward progression here (you can see that she had decided to end Ranma soon). No, Ranma and Akane don’t confess. No, no curses are broken. But Ranma’s mother now knows the truth about her son. And he doesn’t have to kill himself.

The whole sequence leading up to Nodoka discovering the truth is without a doubt the highlight of the book. It also, out of necessity, shows Genma at his absolute worst, a desperate, petty ass who would happily destroy his marriage in exchange for a good meal. As for Ranma, he’s trying really hard to shrug off what his father has taught him to believe, and finally decides to give in and face whatever consequences come from his mother discovering he can turn into a girl. (In fact, his happy expression when he resolves to do this may be one of the best panels in Ranma, period.) There’s also a lot of action, as Ranma and Genma constantly fight back and forth to attempt to stop the other, and it all ends in a fall off a giant cliff into the sea. (I also liked Soun, Kasumi and Nabiki’s understated presence throughout – they’re on Ranma’s side, even if awkwardly.) It’s a really good arc.

The rest of the book is not quite as good. Leaving aside yet another arc devoted to Ranma and Akane mistaking “I am embarrassed by my feelings” for “I hate you”, we have the introduction of Konatsu, a ninja with a poor family situation who somehow ends up at Ucchan’s. Given that fandom has paired Akari and Konatsu together by the function they fill (late-period characters introduced to ‘resolve’ parts of the love septangle), you’d think I’d be more accepting of him, but I’m not really. First of all, unlike Ryouga and Akari, any love seen here is clearly one-sided – Ukyou is literally paying Kanatsu the equivalent of 5 cents to work for her, and barely seems to acknowledge him as a human being. More to the point, though, Konatsu is just a rehash of Tsubasa Kurenai from earlier volumes, and reminds the reader that Rumiko Takahashi is simply not very good at writing trans characters, even giving her a pass of “this is the 1990s”.

And so, despite one piece of forward progression, this volume ends as it begins. In fact, thanks to the destruction of the Saotome home, we now have Nodoka living at the Tendos in addition to Ranma and Genma. Is there anything that can possibly resolve this manga and give it a happy ending>? Well. yes there is, though it depends on how broadly you define “resolve” and “ending”. Stay tuned next time for the final gripping installment of Ranma 1/2!

Filed Under: ranma 1/2, REVIEWS

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

January 17, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

On the surface, The Girl From the Other Side: Siúil, a Rún looks like a fairy tale. It unfolds in a long-ago, far-away place governed by one simple rule: humans and Outsiders must never cross paths. The principal characters are Shiva, a young girl, and Teacher, an Outsider who adopted Shiva after finding her alone in the woods. At first glimpse, their situation seems idyllic, two opposites living harmoniously in a charming little cottage — that is, until the human and demon worlds take interest in Shiva, testing Teacher’s commitment to protecting her.

Probe a little deeper, however, and it becomes clear that the manga’s nuanced characterizations elevate Shiva and Teacher from fairy tale archetypes to fully realized characters. Shiva, for example, talks and acts like a real six-year-old, toggling between moments of impetuousness and thoughtfulness. Though she is obviously fond of Teacher, she fantasizes about a reunion with her aunt, fervent in her desire to rejoin the human world. Shiva has an inkling that Teacher might be “sad” if she left, but she cannot fully appreciate his anguish over their possible separation. (Translator Adrienne Beck and adaptor Ysabet Reinhardt MacFarlane deserve special mention for voicing Shiva’s dialogue with naturalism; Shiva never sounds older or wiser than her years.)

The sophisticated artwork, too, plays an important role in transporting the reader to a specific place and time, rather than simply “long ago.” Nagabe’s elegant pen and ink drawings demonstrate a superb command of light; using washes and cross-hatching, she evokes a world lit by fire, where the glow of a candle casts a small spell against the darkness, and monsters lurk in the shadows. Her figure drawings are likewise strong, neatly conveying the characters’ personalities in a few well-chosen details. Teacher, for example, is a clever amalgamation of animal and demon parts. His most menacing features — his mouthless face and piercing eyes — are tempered by the way he carries himself; he’s fastidious in his movements and dress, gliding through the woods with the graceful, upright posture of a dancer.

Lest The Girl From the Other Side sound mawkish or precious, the brisk pacing and crisp dialogue prevent the story from sagging under the poignancy of the characters’ dilemma. It’s perhaps a little early to nominate it for a “Best of 2017” award, but this promising first volume demonstrates a level of craft, imagination, and restraint that’s sorely lacking in many fantasy manga. Highly recommended.

THE GIRL FROM THE OTHER SIDE: SIUIL, A RUN, VOL. 1 • BY NAGABE • SEVEN SEAS • RATING: ALL AGES

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Fantasy, Girl from the Other Side, Nagabe, Seven Seas

Nisekoi, Vol. 19

January 17, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

By Naoshi Komi. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz Media. Translated by Camellia Nieh

I was recently called out for spoiling a plot point in a recent review, and had to go back and put in a disclaimer. Regular readers of my reviews will note that I spoil everything shamelessly, often without thinking. It’s rare when I actually try to keep something a secret for the sake of those who haven’t read it yet (which one could argue defeats the point of reviews, but hey). But it got me to thinking about this most recent volume of Nisekoi, which I haven’t actually done a full review of since it began. It’s now over in Japan, and indeed has also ended in North America, being one of the series that ran in Viz’s Weekly Jump magazine. Any big fan of the series knows how it ended. But of course the volumes are about a year behind the chapters, as with most Jump titles. So, when I talk about this new volume, and note how well the author succeeds at keeping the harem balanced so that the reader isn’t quite sure who Raku will end up with… who am I supposed to be fooling?

I will try, however, for the sake of the one or two casual readers of Nisekoi who read my reviews and also don’t wish to be spoiled (there must be one or two, right?) not to give away the ending. I will note that fans of romantic fluff will love this volume, be they Chitoge fans, Kosaki fans, or Marika fans. (Tsumugi does not get much of a look-in, but she’s had big moments before and will again). We open with the resolution of the “Chitoge is moving away’ arc, in which Chitoge’s father, who’s always been pretty cook, gives in at last to his daughter’s demands. Raku defensing her is awesome, even if it is (of course) undercut by his realization of who she is to him… his BEST friend! Yes, Raku is still dense, as otherwise the title would be over. Most of the volume then covers Kosaki and Raku on a date… sort of. Tricked into it by Haru, but not really against the idea, this shows off the shy, blushing, embarrassing aspect of romance, which many Western harem readers prefer to Chitoge or Marika’s more forward brusqueness.

Lastly, speaking of Marika and brusqueness, Raku is literally kidnapped by her and brought to a South Seas island (which he takes far better than you’d expect, as Marika herself notes… Raku is a nice guy almost to a fault). At first this just seems like the usual Marika that we’ve seen before, going too far as always. But Marika’s health has always been in the background of her character as well, and it may finally be failing her. There have been ominous hints that she is, if not dying, at least far more ill than she lets on. In which case, vanishing to a South Sea island, and then getting shipwrecked on a different, more deserted one, may not be the wisest choice. But then, of all the heroines, Marika’s love has always been the most desperate.

So there’s something for everyone here. Fans who know how Japanese harem mangas tend to resolve may have a sneaking suspicion who will eventually win, but Nisekoi does a much better job than most in making the journey fun and heartwarming, mostly as Raku is the type where you understand why they love him. This is still quite highly recommended.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Attack on Titan, Vol. 20

January 14, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

By Hajime Isayama. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Bessatsu Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Ko Ransom.

(Note: this review contains large spoilers for the whole volume)

In the last volume we finally got back to a lot of Titan fighting after several volumes of political intrigue. That doesn’t let up here, as this book is about humanity’s desperate fight to stop the titans. It’s also about death – at the start of the series, a lot of characters we briefly knew well died, and Levi’s squad was killed off several volumes later. Now the reaper has come calling again, and it’s uncertain who’s actually going to survive by the end of it. Is Armin really dead? Well, we thought Hange was dead last time, but here she is, looking battered but alive. This series has always had an underlying question of “how depressing is the ending going to be?”. Will the author and editors really kill off most of the likable main cast for good? Will the Titans win?

Speaking of Armin, a lot of this volume focuses on him, particularly on his loss of courage in the face of disaster. This is actually done quite well, showing that the horrible slaughter of war does not automatically make anyone a badass, particularly if your soldier skills are mostly confined to tactics, as with Armin. Seeing him falter gives us extra frustration and sadness, and helps to make the end of the volume, where he snaps out of it, comes up with a plan, and seemingly sacrifices his life for the others’ sake, even more impressive. Speaking of impressive, I must admit I’ve never really warmed to Jean before now, a character who has always been very confrontational and obnoxious. But he’s fantastic here, taking over when Armin falters and thinking of good short-term plans that will help them escape, while admitting that long-term tactics is not something he is designed for. Great job.

Armin is, of course, not the only casualty here, as Erwin takes all the rookies who are watching the Beast Titan and company destroy everything on a suicidal charge in order to give Levi time to make a sneak attack. As one recruit points out (and oh what irony that he seems to be literally the only recruit to survive after this debacle), Erwin is asking them to go out and die, and Erwin responds bluntly that yes, he is. And they do just that. Naturally the reader focuses on Marlowe, whose shift from reluctant MP soldier to raw recruit has gotten quite a bit of focus, and he even got some rare Titan ship tease with fellow MP Hitch. Now he thinks of Hitch, who did not join the Survey Corps and is thus likely asleep, right before his head is blown apart. War is hell. And in war, the good die. A lot.

And that may also include Erwin, whose frustration that they’re almost but not quite able to get to Eren’s father’s house is palpable. He’s leaving everything to Levi and Hange, but like Armin, his fate is not quite confirmed at the end of this book. Will they both end up like Marlowe, Petra and Marco? Or will this be like Sasha or Hange, where we’re sure they’re about to die but they somehow escape? In any case, a good solid volume, and I can’t even complain about the mediocre art too much this time.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

I Saved Too Many Girls And Caused The Apocalypse, Vol. 1

January 11, 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.

To a certain extent, a lot of light novels in Japan have a certain level of knowing irony built into their very frame. You don’t have a genre with that many long-winded over-dramatic series titles and not know that your tongue is planted firmly in your cheek, though by now, a few years out, I suspect many of the imitators may have bypassed the irony in favor of “long titles sell”. But if you do understand, and your audience does as well, there’s a lot you can make fun of. Especially in the so-called “harem” genre, something which has been around in North America since the dawn of manga here (see Ranma 1/2 for only one example) and is even more rife in Japan. Jealous childhood friends, wishy-washy male leads, cripplingly shy yet adorable girls who always enthrall the male audience yet never actually win… we all know the type. It’s ripe for being made fun of.

Our hero is a young man who only wishes to live a normal life. Sadly, Rekka is told by his father on his 16th birthday that he’s inheriting the birthright of being the “final hero” – i.e., when a crisis is happening somewhere and a hero is needed but has not actually materialized, died, or failed, Rekka will be called to action to get the girl, kill the baddies, and save the entire planet. The keywords here being “get the girl”. Shortly after this, a young girl from the future, R, pops up to tell Rekka that he made too many girls fall in love with him doing this, and his inability to settle down and pick one has led to a future apocalypse. R is here to help prevent this. And right after this, the hero stuff keeps pouring in. His childhood friend is secretly a mage, an alien princess wants to marry him, and a shy sorcerer needs hims help to defeat the Demon Overlord. The conceit is that this all happens at the same time.

I must admit, my expectations were somewhat low for this release. The dire but similar “My Little Sister Can Read Kanji” release by J-Novel was so bad I wasn’t even able to finish (or review) it. But it looked lighthearted at least, and I was in the mood for something that wasn’t just dour overpowered male leads staring at the charred remains of all they once loved. And luckily, this ended up being a quite readable treat. It’s not great art, and overstays its welcome (something that is worrying given how long the series is in Japan). But it knows what it’s mocking and does it very well. Some of the jokes actually made me laugh out loud, a rarity for light novels. Its one big drawback is that it peaks too soon. Rekka and Harissa battling the Demon Overlord, complete with “you fools! This isn’t even my final form!” is the absolute highlight of the entire book, and the rest couldn’t dream of topping it.

The basic premise is actually quite clever: Rakka would normally be taking care of these things one by one, and likely not doing a great job. But with them all happening at once, he’s able to use resources from one heroine route to fix another. And they aren’t necessarily easy fixes, either – I knew the moment that he left Harissa right after defeating the Demon Overlord handily that it wouldn’t be that simple, and sure enough she’s soon on the chopping block to be executed. As for Rekka himself, he’s amusingly dense, but he’s not an incompetent clumsy idiot like a lot of harem heroes – you actually get why these girls fall for him. The heroines themselves are all obvious types, designed to win over whichever pleases the reader best, and none are too annoying. Best of all is R, who is invisible to all but Rekka and is thus able to float around him at all times making dry, sarcastic remarks about his incompetence. “I now understand the difficulty of my mission in my heart and not just in my head” was wonderful. (I also hope that she does not become part of the harem in future books.)

Overall, I’m pleasantly surprised at what a light, breezy read this was. Don’t read it if you can’t tolerate harems, of course. And like many light novels, I suspect it’s something I’d find far more aggravating as an anime or manga with more visual fanservice. But if you want something funny and cheeky, this is a good series to get.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Is It Wrong To Try To Pick Up Girls In A Dungeon?, Vol. 7

January 9, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

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

Writing books can be difficult. In addition to actually making sure that you have a decent plot, characterization, action scenes, etcetera, there’s always so much that can go wrong when your target audience is reading it. Maybe they don’t like a new character you introduced to be loved, or perhaps that scene you thought was really romantic is seen as a bit creepy when talked about by others on the internet. There is also page creep, a little-known malady that affects many long series, in which each successive book seems to get longer and longer, till you suddenly realize that you don’t so much have a book as you have a tome. That’s the case with the latest DanMachi, which is so long that you could fit three Kagerou Daze novels inside it. That said, it doesn’t feel all that padded or overdone. Sadly, it does have two major issues.

But first let’s talk about what did work. The new volume manages to build on the events of the last one while also undercutting it, as for a moment it looks like everyone wants to join the Hestia Family… till they hear about Hestia’s huge debt for the knife she bought for Bell, and all that just vanishes. Bell’s strength is less easy to hide, and things get even more difficult when Ishtar, the goddess in charge of the city’s prostitutes, discovers what Bell’s secret really is – she sees the stats on his back. Ishtar is a good villain, suffering from an obvious case of second best syndrome and overcompensating because of it. She’s second best here as well, as Freya simply wipes the floor with her. In fact, this book is packed with fights and chase scenes, and they’re all done quite well, and are what make the book so long. Mikoto finally gets a chance to shine, and she’s awesome, even if she reminds me a bit too much of Kyuubei from Gintama. And we also meet Haruhime, the newest addition to the cast, with her tragic past, terrible secret, amazing power, and self-hatred that’s more powerful than all of those.

I have two issues with this book, one small, one large. The first is more “I hate this cliche” than anything else: Ishtar’s prostitutes are all tall, strong, gorgeous Amazon warriors… except the strongest of them, who is a frog-faced crone who goes on about her beauty while making everyone around her shudder. Phyrne is a giant pile of “ugly = evil”, and that’s one stereotype I’d love to see end. The other is far more vexing. This novel revolves in many ways about prostitutes and virginity. Bell is, of course, a pure, virgin hero, and this purity is so blinding that he can even resist the charms of a goddess – in fact, it’s part of his basic nature. (This of course only makes them want him all the more.) And Haruhime tells Bell that she’s was bought and forced to work as a prostitute, and is therefore not worth saving. Bell rejects this, saying that even if she *is* a prostitute, she still deserves to be rescued as much as anyone. I liked this. It’s possibly the major theme of the book. So then WHY would you have the reader be told at the last minute “Oh, she was such a bad prostitute that she always fainted, so is still a virgin?” Why would you undercut Bell’s entire point? It is a really, really terrible moment.

But apart from those two things, this is a solid entry in the franchise. I believe that the next volume is short stories, so we may have to wait a bit to see what the fallout from this book is. Worth a pickup, but you may grind your teeth towards the end.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Sakura Hime Volumes 1-4

January 8, 2017 by Anna N

Sakura Hime Volumes 1-4 by Arina Tanemura

One of my reading goals over winter vacation was to make some headway into some of the series that I’ve been hoarding but not finishing. The main ones I’ve had around the house are 07-Ghost, Magi, and Sakura Hime. Since Sakura Hime is the shortest, I decided to start with that. Also, for someone that genuinely loves Arina Tanemura manga as much as I do, it is just plain weird that I haven’t finished the series before now. I didn’t reach my goal of reading the entire series during winter vacation but I hope to whittle away at it over the next couple months.

Sakura is a 14 year old princess from the moon who is engaged to Prince Oura, the son of the emperor. She is extrmely unhappy about her upcoming marriage. Hanging out in a tree in protest, she falls into the arms of Aoba, a handsome and obnoxious emissary who has come to escort her to her new husband. They immediately start bickering in that “I hate you because I’m secretly attracted to you!” way that so often happens in shoujo romance. And in a not very great surprise, Aoba is actually Oura.

Sakura and Aoba are fighting from the start, as he thinks that she has the potential to turn into an evil demon due to her moon heritage, while Sakura is determined to protect humans. Demons called youko attack Sakura if she looks directly at the moon, and she is able to manifest magical girl powers when she calls on the somewhat cranky sword Chizakura. One interesting aspect of this manga is that each character has a unique soul symbol that defines their lives. Sakura’s is “Destroy” which highlights the tension between her otherworldly nature and her desire to protect humanity. It also feeds into Aoba’s worries that Sakura is dangerous.

A large supporting cast is introduced at a quick pace in the first few volumes, including the tiny mononoke Asagiri, who is a companion to Sakura. Sakura is also joined by a spunky ninja protector named Kohaku, who has a companion frog named Hayate who is actually a handsome ninja boy with an unfortunate curse. The Priestess Byakura serves in the role of mystical advisor. Lord Fujimurasaki shows up to hint at love triangle possibilities, and just be generally fabulous with a tendency to compose random poems as commentary on whatever is happening around him.

One thing I was surprised about as the story unfolded is that the relationship between Aoba and Sakura ends up evolving greatly in the first few volumes, as based on patterns in other Tanemura series, I expected the “I hate you, no I love you” dynamic to continue for at least 6-7 volumes. Sakura grows in capabilities and confidence as she continues to reclaim her heritage as a princess from the moon. It wouldn’t be a Tanemura series if the heroine wasn’t spending a great deal of time stressing out over a man so since the situation with Aoba is quickly resolved, Sakura’s long-lost brother Enju appears and takes her away.

Tanemura does a good job juggling the character relationships with such a large cast, and in the first few volumes she has moments of levity balanced with some serious mystical creepiness. The moon is a creepy, creepy place. Sakura’s good human companions are balanced out by Enju’s followers, and I’m looking forward to the coming conflict in the rest of the series. I had to laugh when I was reading one of the authors’ notes, as Tanemura commented that she was using less screentone, and I have to say I can’t see it. The combination of historical setting, magical girl hijinks, and moon people ensures that all the flowing ribbons and fluttering flower petals that Tanemura fans would expect are present in this series. After reading the first few volumes, I’m enjoying it very much.

Filed Under: REVIEWS Tagged With: sakura hime, shojo beat, shoujo, viz media

Scum’s Wish, Vol. 1

January 7, 2017 by Michelle Smith

By Mengo Yokoyari | Published by Yen Press

I admit that I initially judged this book by its cover, assuming that it was on the smutty side and aimed at a decidedly male audience. While it is true that Scum’s Wish is seinen, the mangaka (Mengo Yokoyari) is female, and the end result (for me, at least) feels more like dark shoujo.

Hanabi Yasuraoka has been in love with Narumi Kanai, a family friend, since she was little. He was around when her mother couldn’t be (Hanabi’s dad is out of the picture), and promised to always be there for her when she’s lonely. Now, Hanabi is in her second year of high school and Kanai has just started his first teaching job… as her homeroom teacher. Pretty quickly, he becomes smitten with another young teacher, pretty Akane Minagawa, and Yokoyari-sensei masterfully conveys through facial expressions just what Hanabi thinks about that. Soon, she meets Mugi Awaya, a boy who is in love with Minagawa (she used to be his tutor) and they strike up an odd sort of friendship as they hang out together, pining for their unrequited loves.

Eventually, through boredom, loneliness, and hormones, Hanabi and Mugi end up making out, each envisioning that the other is actually the one that they love. While there are a couple of bosom closeups during this part of the story, there are such complex emotions being felt in the scene that it doesn’t feel at all salacious. Ultimately, they decide to publicly become a couple so that they can fulfill each other’s physical desires as needed, though one of the rules they establish is that they won’t be having sex, so I’m assuming this arrangement leads to a great deal of frustration.

The concept of a young couple in a purely physical relationship reminded me of A Girl on the Shore, but happily there’s no disturbing power imbalance between Hanabi and Mugi. No one is merely accepting what they can get from someone who belittles them. They have a lot in common and there’s an inkling, too, that something more might develop (even though they made a rule forbidding that, too), with Hanabi thinking that Mugi has never let her down, unlike Kanai, and feeling possessive of him.

As the scope of the story widens, we meet other characters who are in love with the leads. In addition to a boy who hasn’t received a name yet, Hanabi’s admirers include a girl named Sanae Ebato, who appears for the duration of one chapter and has yet to be mentioned again. Mugi’s overly enthusiastic admirer is Noriko Kamomebata, who has worked very hard to become a princess worthy of him, and gives the impression of a newly hatched chick who imprinted on him.

The introduction of Noriko—who prefers the name Moka, for “most kawaii”—does lead to my one complaint about this volume. Although I’ve presented the story of Hanabi and Mugi in a linear fashion, it’s actually largely told through flashbacks. I followed all of these fine until Noriko is introduced, at which point she refers to herself and Mugi as both being first years. In the first chapter, though, Mugi and Hanabi are both confirmed to be seventeen years old, they discuss their scores on a test, and Hanabi clearly mentions being in the second year of high school. So, is Mugi a second year like her or is he a first year? The timing of when Noriko arrives and objects to their relationship, therefore, is fuzzy and confusing.

All in all, though, Scum’s Wish was far better than I had originally assumed. I have no idea where the story will go from here, so I am very curious to see how it develops.

Scum’s Wish is ongoing in Japan and seven volumes are available so far. Yen Press will release volume two in English later this month.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Sword Art Online, Vol. 9: Alicization Beginning

January 7, 2017 by Sean Gaffney

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

Here we go, ladies and gentlemen. This is it. This is the Big One. This volume of Sword Art Online begins the Alicization Arc, an arc that will not end until Vol. 18 rolls around in December 2019. And you can tell from the writing in many ways, as Kawahara is taking his time to set things up and carefully introduce things that will clearly have relevance later – not least of which is Alice herself, whose disappearance is one of the major plot points of the book, but it’s not resolved here. For those who love the main heroines of Sword Art Online, well, you may be in for some hard times. Asuna is here at the start, as well as Shino. We even hear about future plans, as Shino discusses the next Bullet of Bullets tournament and Asuna and Kirito make plans for going to college overseas. Unfortunately, life has other plans. Fortunately, we have a new heroine, in the best Sword Art Online tradition, to help Kirito with this crisis. He’s even on the cover. Wait, he?

Yes, that’s right, the author has finally realized that the occasional appearance by Klein isn’t cutting it, and gives Kirito someone who can be an equal as well as (sort of) a childhood friend. The conceit of this book is that Kirito is testing a new VR system that’s the most realistic one yet – unlike Aincrad and the other VMRROs we’ve seen to date, this new system is able to mimic things down to the last detail. It’s also, apparently, able to give you vivid backstory if need be – the first 60 or so pages of this book are Kirito, Eugeo and Alice as kids hanging around their medieval fantasy hometown and getting involved in things that they should not. Unfortunately, after an attack in the real world by an ex-member of Laughing Coffin (really, all of these guys basically got away scot-free, didn’t they?), Kirito now finds himself, grown up, in the same world, though he’s now himself and Eugeo doesn’t seem to know him. Now he has to a) find out where he is, b) find out how to return to Asuna, and c) join forces with Eugeo and rescue Alice, who was taken away years ago by Knights as a punishment for transgressing one of the many Laws..

The viewpoint here is, with the exception of the childhood prologue, 1st person Kirito as usual. I find it more tolerable than others do, I suspect, mostly as I think the best way to remind us that Kirito isn’t superhuman is by showing us his thoughts and fears. I also really like Eugeo, the new guy. He’s sort of bright, shiny and innocent, the kind of really good guy that the girls all think Kirito is but he’s never quite managed to pull off. He’s also surprisingly skilled with a sword, and Kirito wonders if more training might even make the two of them a close match. (I hope so. It’s always refreshing seeing Kirito not be the best at something.) When this book is telling Kirito’s story, it’s excellent. Unfortunately, there is one big weakness – Kawahara is fascinated by his invented technobabble (this is also an issue in his other series), and there is endless discussion of vitual reality and what life and a soul actually means. I’m sure it will be highly relevant later, but having it come out in the form of an infodump made things a bit tedious, which is a shame given it was our one big scene with Asuna and Shino.

In any case, though, overall this was a very good start to a very big arc, introducing a new (missing) heroine, giving Kirito a potential male best friend and partner, allowing Kawahara to try his hand at a “fantasy” setting with knights and goblins (who talk about sexually assaulting a young girl, something that apparently is so common in Japanese light novels with goblins that I’ve now run across it three times in less than a month), and setting things up for the next book. Will we be cutting back to the real world and Asuna at all, though? And will Liz and Silica ever get More Appearances? (The back cover of Book 10 may offer a clue there.) Let’s see if Alicization hits the ground running next time.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

I Am a Hero, Vol. 1

January 6, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

At first glance, I Am a Hero looks like a Walking Dead clone, complete with gun-toting vigilantes and hungry zombie hordes. Peel back its gory surface, however, and it becomes clear that I Am a Hero is really a meditation on being trapped: by a dead-end job, by thwarted expectations, and by fears, real and imagined.

The “hero” of Kengo Hanazawa’s series is thirty-five-year old Hideo Suzuki. Though Hideo tasted success with the publication of his own manga, his triumph was short-lived: Uncut Penis was cancelled just two volumes into its run. He now toils as a mangaka’s assistant, working alongside other middle-aged artists whose professional disappointment has curdled into misogyny and grandiosity.

Compounding Hideo’s problems is his fragile mental state. He hallucinates, talks to himself, and barricades the door to his apartment against an unspecified threat, in thrall to the voices in his head. Despite his tenuous grasp on reality, Hideo is the only one of his co-workers who notices the small but telling signs that something is deeply amiss in Tokyo. Hideo soon realizes that his long-standing fears might actually be justified, and must decide whether to hunker down or flee the city.

Getting to Hideo’s do-or-die moment, however, may be a challenge for some readers. The first act of I Am a Hero is a tough slog: not only does it focus on a cluster of strenuously unpleasant characters, it documents their daily routines in painstaking detail. The tedium of these early chapters is occasionally punctuated by vivid, unexplained imagery that calls into question whether the zombies exist or are a figment of Hideo’s imagination. What the reader gradually realizes is that Hideo’s paranoia makes him alive to the possibility of catastrophe in a way that his bored, self-involved co-workers are not; they’re too mired in everyday concerns to notice the growing body count, a point underscored by the banality of their workplace conversations, and their shared belief that women are the real enemy.

When the zombie apocalypse is in full swing, Hanazawa delivers the gory goods: his zombies are suitably grotesque, retaining just enough of their original human form to make their condition both pitiable and disturbing. Hanazawa stages most of the action in tight spaces–an artist’s studio, a pedestrian footbridge, a hallway–giving the hand-to-hand combat the stomach-churning immediacy of a first-person shooter game. Only when Hanazawa cuts away to reveal a fire-ravaged, chaotic landscape do we fully appreciate the extent to which Tokyo has succumbed to the zombie plague.

It’s in these final moments of the book that Hideo glimpses an alternative to his miserable existence–the loneliness, anonymity, and failure that, in his words, have prevented him “from being the hero of my own life.” How he escapes these emotional traps–and those pesky zombies–remains to be seen, but it seems like a journey worth taking. Count me in for volume two.

A word to parents: I Am a Hero is less gory than either The Walking Dead or Fear the Walking Dead, but contains scenes of disturbing violence and frank sexual content. Dark Horse’s suggested age rating seems appropriate for this particular title.

BY KENGO HANAZAWA • PUBLISHED BY DARK HORSE • RATED 16+ FOR VIOLENCE, GORE, LANGUAGE AND PARTIAL NUDITY

* This review originally appeared at MangaBlog on June 4, 2016.

 

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Dark Horse, Horror/Supernatural, Kengo Hanazawa, Zombies

Guardians of the Louvre

January 6, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

One part Times of Botchan, one part Night at the Museum, Jiro Taniguchi’s Guardians of the Louvre is a stately, handsomely illustrated manga that never quite rises to the level of greatness.

The premise is simple: a Japanese artist lies ill in his Parisian hotel room, feverishly dreaming about the museum’s galleries. In each chapter, the hero is temporarily transported to a particular place and time in the Louvre’s history, rubbing shoulders with famous artists, witnessing famous events, and chatting with one of the museum’s most famous works–the Nike of Samothrace, who takes the form of a stone-faced tour guide. If the set-up sounds like The Times of Botchan, it is, though Guardians of the Louvre is less ambitious; Taniguchi’s primary objective is to celebrate the museum’s collection by highlighting a few of its most beloved works, rather than immersing the reader in a specific milieu.

The artist-as-time-traveler schtick is a little hackneyed, but provides Taniguchi with a nifty excuse to showcase the breadth of his artistry, offering the reader a visual feast of rural landscapes, gracious country manors, war-ravaged cities, and busy galleries. Using watercolor and ink, Taniguchi convincingly recreates iconic paintings by Van Gogh and Corot, effortlessly slipping into each artist’s style without slavishly reproducing every detail of the originals. Taniguchi’s characters are rendered with a similar degree of meticulousness, though their waxen facial expressions sometimes mar scenes calling for a meaningful display of emotion.

What prevents Guardians of the Louvre from taking flight is its relentlessly middlebrow sensibility. In one scene, for example, the Nike of Samothrace leads our unnamed hero through an empty Salle des États, home of the Mona Lisa. The artist examines the painting closely, musing about the tourist hordes that normally throng the gallery. “It’s not about art appreciation anymore. It’s wholly a popular tourist destination” he says wistfully. If his character was anything more than an audience surrogate, his comment might have registered as a thoughtful meditation on the commercialization of fine art, or the outsized fame of Da Vinci’s canvas. Absent any knowledge of who he is or what kind of art he creates, however, his remarks sounds more like a moment of bourgeois snobbery: don’t these peasants realize the Louvre is filled with other remarkable paintings?

A similarly pedestrian spirit animates the chapters documenting the 1939 evacuation of the Louvre. To be sure, the mechanics of packing and transporting the art are fascinating; Taniguchi’s expert draftsmanship conveys the complexity and physical demands of the task in vivid detail, inviting us to ride along with Delacroix’s monumental Raft of the Medusa on its perilous journey from Paris to Versailles. The dialogue that frames these passages, however, is rife with cliches. “They were ready to risk everything to evacuate the paintings,” the Nike solemnly informs our hero before implying that this operation was a little-known episode in French history–a strange claim, given the story’s romantic treatment in popular culture.

The manga’s most effective passages, by contrast, are wordless. We see our hero wander through a forest where Corot silently paints the undulating boughs, and a medieval town where Van Gogh sets up his easel in a sun-drenched hay field. In these fleeting moments, Taniguchi’s sensual imagery allows us to step into the artist’s shoes and relive the creative process that yielded Recollection of Mortefontaine and Daubigny’s Garden for ourselves. If only the rest of the manga wasn’t so insistent on telling us how to appreciate these paintings.

Guardians of the Louvre
By Jiro Taniguchi
No rating
NBM Graphic Novels, $24.99

This review originally appeared at MangaBlog on May 20, 2016.

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Jiro Taniguchi, Louvre Museum, NBM/Comics Lit

Handa-Kun, Vol. 1

January 6, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

By the time we meet Sei Handa in the first pages of Barakamon, he’s a twenty-something jerk who bristles at criticism, resents authority, and resists overtures of friendship. The tenth-grader we meet in Handa-kun isn’t as curmudgeonly, but he has a problem: he constantly misreads other people’s motives, whether he’s interpreting a love letter as a threat or perceiving a job offer as a “shady” attempt to unload stolen clothing. For all his weirdness, however, Handa’s classmates worship him, viewing his odd behavior and sharp calligraphy skills as proof of his coolness.

Author Satsuki Yoshino wrings a surprising number of laughs from this simple premise by populating the story with a large, boisterous cast of supporting players. Though the outcome of every chapter is the same–female suitors and male rivals alike profess their sincere admiration for Handa–the path to each character’s epiphany takes unexpected turns. Yoshino complements these humorous soliloquies with expressive, elastic artwork that sells us on the characters’ transformations.

In the volume’s best chapter, for example, Yoshino pits Handa against a bespectacled nerd named Juniichi. Juniichi’s entire self-image is rooted in his years of service as class representative–that is, until one of his peers nominates Handa for the honor. Yoshino makes us feel and smell Juniichi’s desperation by showing us how Juniichi sweats, grimaces, and paces his way through the vote-counting process, flagging or rallying with each ballot. By chapter’s end, Juniichi’s cheerful declaration that “Right now, I feel the best I have ever felt in my life” seems like the natural culmination of this fraught emotional journey–even though, of course, his feeling is rooted in a false sense of Handa’s moral rectitude.

My primary concern about Handa-kun is that the series will overstay its welcome. Handa seems fundamentally unable to learn from his interactions with peers, and his classmates seem just as clueless in their blind adoration of him. If Yoshino doesn’t take steps to change this dynamic–perhaps by introducing a character who is genuinely unimpressed with Handa–the series risks settling into a predictable routine. For a few volumes, however, the current set-up will do just fine, offering the same brand of off-kilter humor as Haven’t You Heard? I’m Sakamoto.

The bottom line: The first volume is funny enough to appeal to newbies and die-hard Barakamon fans.

Handa-kun, Vol. 1
By Satsuki Yoshino
Rated T, for teens
Yen Press, $15.00

This review originally appeared at MangaBlog on February 26, 2016.

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Barakamon, Comedy, Handa-kun, Satsuki Yoshino, yen press

Behind the Scenes!!, Vol. 1

January 6, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

Behind the Scenes!! embodies what’s good–and not so good–about Bisco Hatori’s storytelling. In the plus column, Hatori has a knack for writing ensemble pieces in which the principal characters exhibit a genuine fondness for one another. The stars of her latest series are Shichikoku University’s Art Squad, a scrappy outfit that makes props for the Film Club–or, more accurately, clubs, as there are several students groups competing for the Art Squad’s services, each with their own aesthetic objectives. Ranmaru, the series’ protagonist, gets a crash course in film making when he stumbles into the middle of an Art Squad project: a low-budget horror flick. As penance for disrupting the shoot, Ranmaru joins the Art Squad and is quickly pressed into service painting props, folding paper cranes, and building a fake hot spring.

These scenes–in which Ranmaru and the gang tackle set-design challenges–are among the series’ most enjoyable. Not only do they give us a sneak peek at the movie-making process, they also show us how the club members’ friendly overtures embolden the timid, self-doubting Ranmaru to let go of his painful childhood and become part of a community. In one exchange, for example, Ranmaru tells a fellow squad member about a black-and-white film that made a powerful impression on him. Hatori cuts between scenes from this imaginary film and Ranmaru’s face, registering how powerfully Ranmaru identified with the film’s principal character, a toy robot who dreams of flying. The symbolism of the toy is hard to miss, but the directness and simplicity with which Hatori stages the moment leavens the breezy tone with a note of poignancy.

In the minus column, Hatori often strains for comic effect, overwhelming the reader with too many shots of characters mugging, shouting, and flapping their arms. The Art Squad’s interactions with various student directors give Hatori license to indulge this tendency; the auteurs’ snits and whims frequently force the Art Squad members to behave more like the Scooby Doo gang–or Hollywood fixers–than actual college students juggling coursework and extra-curriculars. (The Art Squad even has a goofy dog mascot.)

At the same time, however, these wannabe Spielbergs bring out the best in Hatori’s draftsmanship. Each one’s personality is firmly established in just a single panel: one looks like a refugee from Swingin’ London (or perhaps an Austin Powers film); another dresses like a Taisho-era author, swanning around campus in a yukata; and a third sports a shaggy mane, Buddy Holly glasses, and a female entourage. The efficiency with which Hatori introduces these characters, and the range of personalities they embody, demonstrate just how crisp and distinctive her artwork can be. That Hatori’s heroes are visually bland by comparison says less about her skills, I think, than it does her desire to make Ranmaru’s new “family” seem normal–well, as normal as anyone who specializes in making fake zombie guts can be.

The bottom line: Tentatively recommended. If Hatori can tone down her characters’ antic behavior, Behind the Scenes!! could be a winner.

Behind the Scenes!!, Vol. 1
By Bisco Hatori
Rated T, for teens
VIZ Media, $9.99

This review originally appeared at MangaBlog on February 8, 2016.

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Bisco Hatori, Comedy, shojo, VIZ

  • « Go to Previous Page
  • Page 1
  • Interim pages omitted …
  • Page 204
  • Page 205
  • Page 206
  • Page 207
  • Page 208
  • Interim pages omitted …
  • Page 344
  • Go to Next Page »
 | Log in
Copyright © 2010 Manga Bookshelf | Powered by WordPress & the Genesis Framework