Reviews

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

If you’re familiar with Durarara!!, then you may know that this was the author’s first major series. It also had a (far less successful) anime. That said, the two fandoms don’t really interact, particularly in North America. DRRR’s fandom is very much about two or three characters that people obsess over, while Baccano’s tends to be more about the books themselves, and overanalyzing its cast to death. Given that DRRR is doing well over here, it was a natural pickup, and I am very pleased to see that Yen On is releasing it. This first volume introduces us to much of the main cast, and shows us how they became involved with demons, alchemy, and immortality.

Those familiar with the anime may be disappointed, as we don’t jump around between various time periods in this book (you’ll have to wait till Book 2 for the train). It’s all about what happens in 1930, where various plots are all happening at the same time. A young punk named Firo is joining the ranks of the Camorra (think Mafia, only less Sicilian and more Italian); two incredibly eccentric thieves are trying to turn over a new leaf by stealing for the right reasons, only their reasoning is highly suspect; and an old man and his female chauffeur and bodyguard are trying to resurrect a liquor that will grant complete immortality to anyone who drinks it – something the old man already has, but he wants to recreate it anyway just to show that he can. Gradually these plots and others interact with each other until it all ends in one giant confrontation and there are many dead bodies… of course, given we’re also dealing with immortality, are they really dead?

I suspect the average Baccano! reader over here will already be spoiled as to its plot, which is a shame, as there’s a lot of twists and turns to let us wonder who’s really immortal, who really knows who’s backstory, and what exactly is going on. Like DRRR, the ‘heroes’ of the book are morally ambiguous, in this case mostly being mobsters. Firo is a sweet young kid, except he’s also got a way with a knife, is unflinching at running an illegal gambling den, etc. It’s a matter of degrees. The worst is clearly Szilard Quates, the aforementioned old man, who will use anyone and anything to get what he wants. That said, if you’re looking for a protagonist of this particular volume, I’d say that it’s Ennis, the chauffeur/bodyguard. Thanks to interaction with the cast, she grows and changes more than anyone else, and her inner monologue is both heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time.

And then there’s Isaac and Miria. They may never be the protagonists of the individual books, but they are the poster children and mascots for the series itself, and their glorious idiocy is on full display here. They both possess an illogical logic, reminiscent of Gracie Allen, and I suspect an entire book of them would be exhausting. But as a spice, they’re perfect. The book gives depth to several characters via thoughts and actions not seen in the anime, and even Isaac and Miria are no exception. It’s never clear if they’re actually lovers or not, but they are most certainly in love with each other. They are a joy and a treat.

It’s hard for me to look at Baccano! with a fresh mind, as I’m so familiar with the series as a whole. For fans of the anime, you’ll see new and changed things. For those who like DRRR, it has a similar chaotic style. If you like characters who are completely trash scum, Dallas Genoard is right up your alley. I would argue that if you are unsure and want to sample the absolute top of the line books in the series, you might wait to sample books 2 and 3 (which come as a set). And the art gets better, honest – it’s very sketchy here, with some characters bearing only minimal resemblance to what they look like 6 or 7 books later. But honestly, this is also an excellent introduction to the clamor and noise that is Baccano!.

By Rumiko Takahashi. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Viz.

The difficulty with these omnibuses is that they can feel very unbalanced. This volume contains one of the strongest emotional and physical battles in the series… in its second half. To get there, you have to wade through Vol. 27 first, which features far more Mousse than is really recommended, Principal Kuno returning when no one wants him to, more possessed inanimate objects, and Hinako falling for Soun Tendo, a storyline that was a bit creepy when it was first released in the 1990s, but now reads as SUPER CREEPY today. Hinako may really be in her 20s, and have the body of a statuesque woman when she sucks out ki, but she looks (and acts) like an 8-year-old most of the time, and that fact makes the entire sequence a bit beyond the pale. Fortunately, Soun is totally oblivious to her, still being very much in love with his late wife.

However, the 2nd half of this omnibus is top-notch. Ryu Kumon’s backstory, once revealed, may be played up a bit for comedy purposes, but it does feature his only parent killing himself by accident, leaving him alone. As a result, even though he is trying to trick her, Ryu is drawn to Ranma’s mother, who mistakes him for her own son, and he realizes that he can bond with her in ways that Ranma, who is cursed to always be female around her, can’t. This leads Ranma to be more emotional than ever, as his desire to be a good son for his mother, fear of the promise to kill an “unmanly” child that she made, and rage at this upstart taking over his life all coalesce, leading him to be a bit more serious than usual in the ensuing fight.

It helps that Ryu is a top-notch martial artist. As ever, Ranma gets the floor wiped with him till he can figure out how Ryu is fighting and the way to counterattack. It helps that the actual “Martial arts _______” fight this time is one of Takahashi’s all-time cleverest, revolving around entering and leaving a house, and you’d be amazed at how much that can translate into fighting techniques. Of course, the trick is that it’s not a tool for fighting at all – which is why Ryu’s father, who thought it was, inadvertently killed himself trying to use it. As always, Genma and Soun are there to provide running backstory, and Genma seems to be at fault, but for once it’s only accidentally his fault. And the action sequences are really good, Takahashi has found her groove here.

Oh yes, I almost forgot to mention the “Cursed Tunnel of Love” storyline. The anime softened this considerably in terms of Ukyou and Ryouga, the manga doesn’t bother. Ranma and Akane mistakenly think the two are a couple, but the idea is meant to be hilarious – the fights between them are nothing like the fights between Ranma and Akane, they’re just simply Ukyou’s frustration at Ryouga being Ryouga. That said, we’re coming near to wrapping up the series, and it would be nice if at least one of the harem candidates (on either side) got paired off. Oh Ryouga, if only there was a girl out there for you…

By Hirohiko Araki. Released in Japan as “Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken” by Shueisha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz Media.

In modern days, it has become a somewhat amusing joke to say that “no one dies in (insert Jump title here)”, be it Bleach, One Piece (until recently), or other such series. There are lots of apparent deaths, but it is a very popular cliche to have the supposedly dead person reappear to much rejoicing, and Jump in particular loves to do it. That said, this is a good 25 years earlier, and so JoJo’s is not afraid to brutally murder major cast members in order to advance the plot and provide much character development and tears of rage from our titular hero. Indeed, the villains are so arrogant that being killed by one of them personally is deemed to be a blessing given to a worthy opponent – attention has been paid.

Last arc it was Speedwagon who survived, with Jonathan being killed off right at the very end. Joseph is a different, less tragic sort of hero, and so it falls to Caesar to be the one who loses his life so that the others may pursue their goal of defeating the evil whositses – honestly, a lot of the plot details of JoJo still tend to whiz by me as people scream battle poses at each other. Not that this is a bad thing – that is why we read this series, as Araki is very good at keeping a reader’s interest with reaction shots and amazed exclamations. Take, for example, the return of Stroheim, who has returned as something of a cyborg, and manages for a while to go toe to toe with Kars (named after the band, or the Gary Numan song? Or both). This despite the fact that the entire “he’s a Nazi, but I don’t hate him as a person” plotline is deeply uncomfortable, and I won’t cry when we leave World War II behind.

As for Joseph himself, he is, as ever, more of a trickster than his grandfather was, which allows him more success in battle against enemies who are prone to being faked out. Of course, this comes with cocksure arrogance and sometimes a petulant anger as well. He’s at his best here dealing with Suzie Q, who he flirts with for about two pages before she’s possessed by another one of the bad guys. This is why seeing him and Lisa Lisa devastated at the climax of this volume is so heartbreaking. We don’t like seeing Joseph like this. I have no doubt that he will get an epic revenge in the fourth and final volume of this arc, but will he be able to bounce back and show us some cocksurity? Who knows.

By now anyone reading this series knows what they’re getting into. I wish there was less “Nazis may be evil but they sure are cool” here, to be frank, but other than that this is wall to wall excellent shonen at 100% volume.

By Rokudenashiko. Released in Japan by Kinyobi, Inc., partially serialized in the magazine Shuukan Kinyobi. Released in North America by Koyama Press.

Like many people, I first heard about Rokudenashiko via news reports retweeted and reblogged around the internet. In fact, it may have been watching The Daily Show, which covered her arrest (she makes reference to it here). But when I saw that she had a panel at TCAF and was promoting a manga discussing what happened, I decided to seek it out. and I’m delighted that I did, as this manga is fascinating, managing to make the reader angry and outraged at her mistreatment while at the same time laughing hysterically. It actually comes in two parts. The first, written for the weekly magazine, is a light-hearted (but the events are serious) look at her arrest and imprisonment for distributing 3D copies of her vagina via crowdsourcing. The second half retells some of the same events, but as part of her life story, and it’s more serious and personal.

The amazing double-standards of Japanese culture, which has no issues with the word ‘chinko’ (which means dick), but can’t abide the word ‘manko’ (which means pussy) is on display throughout, from the initial sneering and TV-cop stereotype of her arrest to the hilarious points where the officers try to take her statement and she humiliates them by insisting on saying ‘manko’ as many times as possible. We get a lovely tour of Japanese women’s prison, which is as unpleasant as you’d imagine, and she has a variety of cellmates, ranging from the normal to the intensely strange. Interspersed through the manga are various textual articles discussing the nature of obscenity, Japanese law (yes, it really is far more like Phoenix Wright than you’d expect), and the campaign on the outside to petition for her freedom (which we barely see as we’re following her POV).

As I said earlier, the second part of the manga is a short biography of her life, and how she ended up becoming an artist who used her ‘manko’ as an inspiration for various art projects and showcases. The most amusing part for me was that her initial reasoning was seeing that you can have “vaginal surgery” and thinking “whoah, cool!”. She was later told by her editors to change it and make her more ashamed of her body in order to sell to readers better. I am reminded of many other editorially demanding manga series. That said, we also see that using ‘manko’ in her art also led to her divorce, to her friends abandoning her, and to suicidal thoughts. None of that was in the more commercial first part of the book, but it adds a sense of depth and realism that touches the heart.

So rest assured, this is a highly entertaining and moving memoir. But it’s also a wonderful look at the standards that go into defining what is obscene, and the struggles that an artist has to go through in order to be able to express themselves properly. The behavior of the police and courts in this book is jaw-dropping, and if nothing else, I’m hoping that more awareness of the these issues might lead to international pressure for change. In the meantime, the story of Rokudenashiko and her artistic triumphs and struggles is a must-read for anyone who loves freedom of expression.

By Shigeru Mizuki. Released in Japan as “Gegege no Kitaro” by (among others) Kodansha, serialized in various magazines. Released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly.

There was already a sampler of Kitaro a few years back, also by Drawn & Quarterly, but this new collection appears to be the equivalent of a multi-volume best-of, apparently signed off on by Mizuki himself, who gave the editor a test to see if he could choose the stories that Mizuki himself would have chosen (he got all but one). And so we see some earlier Kitaro manga from the late 60s, including a lengthy chapter from the magazine Garo that shows off how Kitaro came to be, and helps you understand that the otherwise generic zombie on the cover really is one of the main characters. It’s a grim little tale, more serious than the rest of the stories in this volume, possibly as it lacks the series’ main drawing point.

See, Kitaro is a nice kid, mostly (his ethics can be rather questionable from a human perspective), but he is essentially Mickey Mouse. He’s the title character and appears in every story, but what the readers really want is someone a bit more fallible and funny. And you can’t get much funnier or more fallible than Nezumi Otoko, which translates to Rat Man. He is the Donald Duck of this series, only Donald was never quite so evil. Nezumi Otoko will do absolutely anything for money, including tricking old rich men out of their life savings, luring respectable young manga editors to their yokai-influenced deaths, and take advantage of the dead – multiple times. Even when he’s not being an ass, he’s usually a coward, always the first to run away. This, of course, makes him a marvelous character, the best reason to read this series. He’s beloved in Japan (for a certain definition of beloved), and was used as narrator for Mizuki’s Showa history.

The other big reason to read the series is the yokai, who veer from the silly to the terrifying, but they’re all dangerous. Neko Musume shows up here, and those who recall her cute moe appearance in some of the more recent Kitaro animes will be startled by this bowl-cut girl who tries to literally eat Nezumi Otoko when she first sees him (to be fair, he deserved it – he always does). The Gyuki and Hideri Gami are more typical straight-up monsters, in the former case even managing to possess Kitaro, who gets to enjoy a rare turn attacking people. Kuckily, Kitaro is made of stern stuff, able to survive even being dropped in a volcano. Also luckily, this is very much not a serialized story. Tales need to end in a certain number of pages, so the yokai rarely get to do much before Kitaro has won and they’re off on their next adventure. (The anime was airing as these manga chapters were running, and you can see references to the insanely catchy theme song in these final ‘the adventure continues’ panels.)

Even if you aren’t a fan of manga history or yokai stories, this is still a must purchase. It’s also fairly child-friendly, despite a few scares. I am eagerly awaiting more.

By Eiichiro Oda. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz.

My last review of One Piece was, for me, quite negative, as I was getting very weary of Dressrosa. That hasn’t changed one bit with this new volume, unfortunately, and we’re still here. I am going to make a concerted effort not to bring up Rebecca, despite my teeth grinding so much during the “you are a pretty princess who must not fight” scenes I may need to see the dentist. Instead, let’s be positive and focus on the fun things going on in this arc. And there are fun things, because even when Oda is getting more sexist by the volume and rehashing things we’ve seen before, he can still introduce crazy stuff that makes you grin, or even show us a kid wearing a Bartholomew Kuma T-shirt.

The cover, showing off the Straw Hats (+ Law), reminds us that the main cast may have gotten a bit too unwieldy, given that Oda now has to write out half the Straw Hats in order to not overburden an already overburdened arc. That said, it does allow those who are remaining to have moments to shine. Zoro has done “beyond the impossible” so many times that you’d think it would be old hat by now, but no, it’s always fun, mostly as every time you’re reminded what a complete lunatic he can be when he’s in battle mode. If the enemy needs to be stopped but is much too far away, just have yourself hurled at the enemy. If he shapeshifts too fast to kill his real body, just cut everything so fast he doesn’t have time to get away. And oh yes, use haki to make sure your swords won’t even get scratched. When Zoro isn’t sleeping or getting lost, he’s there to be super cool, and he achieves that here.

Then there’s Luffy, who gets to battle the real Doflamingo at long last, in what is hopefully the climax of this arc. The timeskip has helped to mature Luffy, even if (like the rest of the cast) he can backslide at any time for comedy reasons. True, his reasoning for going all out against Doflamingo is still somewhat simplistic – you made my friends cry, you made my friends mad. But honestly, that’s a good enough reason to begin with, and if anyone deserves to be punched into next week, it’s Doflamingo, who sets up one last deathtrap to kill everyone on the island for the lulz. Flashbacks show that if you tell a young boy filled with rage and fury that he is better than everyone else and give him whatever he wants, bad things will ensue. Luffy is the opposite of this, even though he is also filled with rage and fury here. Abuse of power is the main enemy in One Piece, be it pirates, marines, World Government, or what have you. If you do it, Luffy is here to kick your ass.

So there are many things to like here, but again, I will be very, very glad to see the back of this arc. I believe that in the next volume I finally achieve this.

By Wataru Watanabe. Released in Japan in two separate volumes by Akita Shoten, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Champion. Released in North America by Yen Press.

The last volume promised we’d see a race, but I don’t know if readers were prepared for the race to take up the entire omnibus, which is to say two volumes of the original Japanese release. Given that it’s meant to be an endurance test to weed out those who aren’t ready for the big time, it makes sense. And, of course, it ends up showing off the character development of our three leads – Onoda discovers the joy of competition, particularly when he gets a real bike; Naruko realizes that he is not in fact top dog here; and Imaizumi finds a desire to win that had been absent in him for some time. In other words, this still manages to embody all the archetypes of sports manga in one handy volume.

Onoda is still the star, and we see him coming to terms with the fact that he can’t make it on pure guts alone – though god knows he tries, particularly when he gets his racing bike. There’s a lovely bit where he sees the car of team captains behind him (they’re there to pick up those too far behind and say they’ve lost) and despairs, but no, they’re here to give him his racing bike, which got stuck in traffic before the event. The team captains (and Kanzaki, who continues to boggle at Onoda’s raw potential, though this being a sports title, and an Akita Shoten one at that, I expect boggling is all she will do) also get to play Greek chorus along the way, explaining why *this* is the exact point that Onoda will finally run out of steam, only to be proven wrong time and time again.

Of course, he eventually does collapse – your male sports lead does not end up winning against the veterans in the early volumes. The course is designed to kill anyone who doesn’t plan on being a “cycling uber alles” sort, which means most of it is a giant hill. Onoda wins the race to the top of the hill, but that’s all he has in him. As for Imaizumi, there’s some lovely characterization here as he unconsciously finds himself riding as he did when he was a child (something noticed by Kanzaki, who was a childhood friend of his), and also overexerting himself despite knowing it’s not the right thing to do in order to efficiently win the race. Stoic types in manga are always at their most interesting when they go up against something that threatens their facade. It doesn’t necessarily have to make them emotional, but it’s good to see.

So now that Onoda has made a name for himself, to the point where even Kanzaki’s non-cycling BFF says that he seems to have more presence than before, what’s next? My guess is more cycling, and probably an intense training regimen. Are we too early for an inter-high meet? What does the author plan to do with the eccentric yet clearly intelligent and wily coach we’re introduced to? I definitely plan on finding out next time.

By Makoto Yukimura. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Morning. Released in North America by Dark Horse Comics.

The 2nd omnibus volume of Planetes has as many powerful moments as the first, including possibly the most iconic marriage proposal in all of manga. But, just like its subject, one gets the feeling that the series has proven a bit too big for its author. The 2nd half of the series has a series of story arcs that feel like endings, but it keeps going on for a bit, and reminds me somewhat of a series that has been extended by its editors rather than its author. Of course, this offers us the opportunity for a magnificent arc focusing on fee, so I shouldn’t complain too much. But space has no ending, and neither does Planetes, which simply keeps rolling along till the very last page.

Of course, Hachimaki is still the star, and after his vision quest he’s almost a different person, though it’s touch and go as to whether he’ll survive at all – not that he did himself any damage, but he seems to have lost the will do live his life, something that Sally has to bully out of him with a combination of yelling and nudity. Moreover, he needs someone like Tanabe, even if marrying means they immediately won’t see each other again for seven years. The aforementioned marriage proposal, done as a game of shiritori, is justifiably famous, but I think may be surpassed by two other scenes – Hachimaki comforting a sobbing Tanabe as she reveals she has no idea what she can possibly write in her will should she be killed in space, and Tanabe’s complete inability to explain why she loves Hachimaki or why she married him – except that she loves him a lot. Tanabe is still the heart of this series.

And then there’s Fee. (Sorry, Yuri, you are forever “the other one”.) Fee has always tried to avoid making the personal political, probably as it’d be so easy for her to do, as we find out here. But with the world superpowers waving their dicks around and blowing up so much stuff in space that an entire orbit is now forever lost, even one person finds it hard to make a difference. We contrast adult Fee’s attempts to balance a job, a family life, and a newfound, unwanted fake with Fee’s childhood, which she liked to spend with her uncle out in his shack in the woods. This allows Planetes to take on the quiet racism of the countryside, adding in a handful of prejudice against the mentally disabled as well. It’s handled with a surprisingly gentle touch, and also allows Fee to realize that she and her son are far more alike than she’d like, but also that she belongs in space.

There’s more I haven’t touched on – Locksmith continues to be a very ambiguous villain, and Hachi’s father gets a nice flashback chapter. But as I said, the manga does not end, but keeps flowing onward till the last page. Hachi’s message to the Earth from Jupiter reflects that, talking about the need to explore space, and how it needs to be done while not losing sight of humanity. It’s a subtle rebuke to Locksmith, and also a great, down-to-earth speech. Planetes remains one of the best space-oriented titles out there, and I’d recommend it to any reader.

By Kaoru Mori. Released in Japan in two separate volumes by Enterbrain, serialized in the magazine Comic Beam. Released in North America by Yen Press.

After the last omnibus proved to be quite depressing at times, it’s a relief to see that this new one contains a happy ending, of sorts. Given this is still an interclass relationship in Victorian England, of course, the definition of happy is a lot more repressed than you’d expect, but it works. I was somewhat relieved to see that Emma’s arranged abduction by Big Daddy Campbell was less ‘let’s have her murdered’ and more ‘let’s dump her far away from London and remind her she is merely a working-class girl’, something which Emma sadly takes to heart. Luckily, after a thorough search of all of England (the coincidences fly thick and fast in this volume, but I suspect Mori is well aware of how ridiculous it is – it feels Dickensian), William and Emma are reunited, he managed to break off his engagement to Eleanor (and also his family’s upward mobility, though hopefully that’s temporary), and Emma prepares to enter high society.

While things are mostly dramatic, there are moments of humor that serve to lighten the mood. Eleanor has been treated horribly by the narrative, and her emotional breakdown would be incredibly depressing were it not for the presence of Hakim’s identical triplet concubines doing their best “staaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaare” at her. And the scene of Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Molders, and Emma trying to sort out the many and varied rules of etiquette, some of which contradict each other, is pure gold. That said, William and Emma’s romance is played with the utmost seriousness, and seeing her decked out in fine fashion at the end of the main story is breathtaking. Mori can draw, and it’s still one of the best reasons to get her works.

Emma proper ends here, but there were three volumes of side stories which were collected as well, and the first of these is the second half of this omnibus. We get to see a young Kelly Stownar and her long-dead husband when they were young just-barely-getting-by newlyweds, trying to save up to see the Great Exhibition, in a very sweet and touching chapter. Eleanor, having been exiled to Brighton as a disgrace by her evil father (presumably she is a disgrace for now being good enough to keep William Jones’ attention despite his being – ugh – a merchant), gets to meet a young student who turns out to have been William’s underclassman at school, and they bond, although I am pleased to see it doesn’t seem to be a rebound relationship – indeed, Eleanor seems to want to emulate him more than romance him. I also liked the chapter devoted to Tasha, the clumsy maid who befriended Emma, and her huge family that she goes home to visit.

Emma is always best when it evokes mood and shows us gorgeous things, and there’s a lot of that in this omnibus. And, of course, if you like William and Emma’s romance, you will be pleased as well. More side-stories follow in the final omnibus, including, I understand, an actual wedding, though it does take place several years after the main plot.