Reviews

By Yuma Ando and Yuki Sato. Released in Japan as “Tanteiken Sherdock” by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

It’s a rather odd time here in North America, where we have had a series of Sherlock Holmes adaptations of various stripes over the last couple of years. JManga had a Holmes volume up that was sort of supernatural horror with bishonen Holmes. Young Miss Holmes pays close attention to the canon even as it welds in a precocious niece. And now we have Sherlock Bones, where Sherlock is reincarnated as a dog in modern-day Japan, and fights crime with the help of a young boy who gets to be his Doctor Watson. As you can imagine, this one is geared more towards younger readers, but certainly it’s not juvenile. We’re dealing with murders here.

The author is used to this type of detective mystery, of course, being the creator of Kindaichi Case Files under another pseudonym. The story is the important thing here, and Sherlock’s presence is merely a vehicle for it (as well as for a few weak “Sherlock is a dog now” jokes). Unlike Young Miss Holmes, so far the creators seems to have very little use for the Watson canon, only using the broadest strokes such as Sherlock’s pipe. As for Watson, or rather Takeru Wajima, he’s a typical shonen protagonist, bieng fairly normal but with a stubborn stick-to-it-ivness that will serve him well in dealing with Sherlock’s whims.

The book starts us off with a fairly easy attempted murder where the clues are all laid out in the open, before moving on to the main story involving a crime where the murderer is fairly obvious, but we have to figure out motive, means, etc. Indeed, motive proves to be the key here, as we learn that the culprit isn’t just evil like that but has a deeply tragic reason for committing the crime. It helps that the victim isn’t that nice a kid – but he’s still a KID, so there’s not that much sympathy.

This runs in Shonen Magazine, so the mysteries aren’t meant to be all that hard to solve, and you can usually come up with the solution at the same time as Sherlock does. Of course, since it does run in Shonen Magazine, there’s also a bit of fanservice focus on boobs ‘n butts, though certainly less than you’d see in Fairy Tail or Negima. In the end, this is a mystery anthology series along the lines of Case Closed or Kindaichi, with “Sherlock Holmes is a dog” as the gimmick. We do see a girl who’s meant to be a love interest of some sort, though given the nature of the series she could easily be killed off in Volume 2 for all I know. But for the most part I expect this to be episodic, which makes it a good series to dip in and out of without worrying too much about missing anything. It’s cute and fun, if not all that gripping.

By Nico Tanigawa. Released in Japan as “Watashi ga Motenai no wa dō Kangaetemo Omaera ga Warui!” by Square Enix, serialized on the website Gangan Comics Online. Released in North America by Yen Press.

Despite a title longer than your arm, this new manga series is not, in fact, based on a light novel. It’s usually shortened to “WataMote” in fan discussions – indeed, I’ve used that tag for my Category on this review, rather than screw up the sidebar. Still, with a title like that, if you’re someone who’s been a fan of anime over the past few years, it comes with certain expectations even before you read it. High school slice-of-life, comedic misunderstandings, discussion of otaku interests. And indeed, all that is true. But it’s the heroine who drives this title, and Tomoko Kuroki is not going to simply lie back and be cute and moe.

Tomoko gives new meaning to the term “socially awkward”. In her head, she’s got it all down – she’s starting high school, will make new friends, get a boyfriend, and her life will be wonderful. In reality, not only is she a cripplingly shy girl who can barely manage the most basic interaction, but she’s not even cute and adorable like most manga heroines with those issues. Tomoko can be hard to like. She emotionally manipulates her brother, is crass and opportunistic, and has an inability to see even basic human interaction and understand what it means.

Notably, she’s not bullied or picked on at all by any of her peers – they mostly just ignore her, but it’s not in a ‘she’s creepy’ way, she simply rarely registers on their radar. When occasional peers do speak to her, it tends to be friendly, and mostly the only time they rear back in awkward horror is when she says or does something incredibly inappropriate. Honestly, that’s a little unrealistic, but the mangaka doesn’t really want to go in a bullying direction here – Tomoko makes her own problems. We can’t even blame a poor family life – her mother and brother seem to be perfectly fine with social interaction, though her brother regards her as incredibly annoying and exhausting. And, well, he’s correct.

An anime adaptation of this aired over the summer, and many people kept asking themselves whether the intention of the work was to laugh at Tomoko’s foibles, feel pity for her attempts to bond with life and other people, or just feel incredibly uncomfortable at watching her existence? The answer, of course, is all three. We don’t want to be seen to laugh at someone like Tomoko, but honestly, some of the behavior here is pretty hilarious, and her snark is also pointed and amusing. That said, there aren’t real punchlines here, just a setup that goes off the rails. Instead of a punchline, we see Tomoko sitting on a park swing, looking miserable, as her brother silently stares at her. Or in a bathroom, ripping a pair of panties to shreds in a terror-stricken bout of mortification.

This manga seems to push against its own audience, which is otaku-oriented males. At one point, Tomoko talks to her one friend (who I hope we see more of), and is asked about the new anime season. Tomoko blithely responds that it’s all moeblob shows this year. This may be slice-of-life, but it’s no K-On! I do want to read more, but I am very grateful that it’s only coming out here every three months, as Tomoko is as exhausting and frustrating to read as she must be to live with. Definitely recommended, but be aware that this title pulls in several different directions at once, and deliberately doesn’t resolve any of them.

By Yoshikazu Yasuhiko; Original Story by Yoshiyuki Tomino and Hajime Yatate; Mechanical Design by Kunio Okawara. Released in Japan by Kadokawa Shoten, serialized in the magazine Gundam Ace. Released in North America by Vertical, Inc.

In the first 2 volumes of this Gundam manga it’s been fairly easy to root for our heroes. They’re fighting against an empire with fascist tendencies, and the two main antagonists we’ve gotten so far are a smug schemer and a daddy’s boy who looks to be in over his head and is dispatched fairly easily at the end of the last volume. Char will no doubt continue to be a headache, but Garma is no more. Of course, this means we need a new minor villain, and it’s not going to be Char, as he’s too busy smirking. And so we get to the title character of this book, Ramba Ral.

Make no mistake about it, Ramba Ral is exactly what this book needed at this point. Even if Char is a very popular character with fans, the fact is that the heroes and villains have been more black and white than they needed to be. This is particularly evident at Garma’s state funeral, which Gihren quickly starts using as a political rally to mobilize the troops. This, combined with the funeral choreography and the uniformed fascism, makes the Principality of Zeon look like Nazi and the Naztones to a degree. Ramba Ral is different, and reminds you that this isn’t “fighting aliens” – all of these people are ultimately human beings with human flaws and human virtues. He’s a captain who loves him men, loves to fight, and is very good at it. His wife is second in command and clearly much of the brains behind the operation. It’s a shame that the plot decrees his fate at the end of this book, as I’d much rather he have been the main antagonist.

And counterbalancing Ramba Ral being a villain who is easy to respect and admire, our heroes are having a very rough time of it. Amuro has always been a petulant teenager, but here his temper tantrums get dealt with in detail, and he runs away. Bright, meanwhile, is doing his best to try and think like a commander, but making decisions that are the right thing to do is proving to be unpopular… not only with his men, but with Mirai. As for Sayla, she’s finding that being a double agent is a lot harder than it looks, particularly when you’re not working for the villains. All three of these characters make somewhat dumb decisions, pay for them, and later learn to read people’s hearts to see what the better option is.

There’s still lots of what makes everyone love Gundam in the first place. The battles are taking up more and more space in the book, but are still very exciting. And the political back and forth and constant attempts to get the upper hand is even better. Char excels at this, of course, even when captured for insubordination. He’s just a man who wants his sunglasses. That’s all. Add in an afterward by Shimoku Kio, who draws the female cast, and has the Genshiken meet Amuro, and you have absolutely no reason not to pick this up. An excelletn volume.

By Hikaru Asada and Takahiro Seguchi. Released in Japan as “Shi ni Itaru Yamai” by Hakusensha, serialized in the magazine Young Animal. Released in North America by Vertical.

This manga starts in right away telling you that it’s going to be a tragedy. The very first scene shows us our hero, as an adult, visiting the grave of the heroine. It’s very stark, especially considering how much emphasis the rest of the text puts on trying to save her from her inner demons and her despair. But given how the efforts to save her are, much of the time, exactly the wrong thing to do (or being handled by the wrong person), it shouldn’t come as too much of a surprise. This isn’t a romantic comedy, it’s ‘watching a car crash in slow motion’ manga. Still, that can be riveting, and it in here.

We get most of the story, as I said, in flashback. Kazuma, a young man going to college so he can study psychology, answers an ad providing lodging for him if he could care for a sick person. Said person is Emiru, an emaciated young woman whose hair has turned white and who seems to exist in a perpetual state of “almost dying” without actually doing so. Kazuma is immediately attracted to her, and decides that he’s going to try his best to get her out of this gloom that her life has become. As I noted above, this is a giant mistake. Emiru’s butler, who should step in as a mature adult and say this, doesn’t say anything as he’s beholden to the family, and also gets conveniently written out. Kazuma’s teacher helps him understand the psychological aspects of Emiru’s mindset, but thinks he’s speaking in the abstract. And then things get more intimate…

I’ll be honest with you, it’s hard for me to read this work without thinking of another manga that revolves, supposedly, around despair. It doesn’t help that as an adult, Kazuma bears a distinct resemblance to Itoshiki-sensei, the lead teacher in Sayonara Zetsubou-sensei, and that manga too has him dealing with young women with psychological problems. This is an altogether darker work, though, and where it best succeeds is focusing on Emiru’s all-encompassing pain and despondency. It doesn’t help that we see flashbacks to her about two years ago, and she’s a cute, outgoing young high school student – the sort of girl who would be the love interest in some shonen harem manga. Now her hair has turned white, she’s so thin you can almost see through her, and she lives on the verge of despair. Of course, this is a two-volume series, so we don’t actually find out her tragic past till next volume, but I can hazard a few guesses…

I greatly enjoyed this volume, but I have to admit that a lot of the time I was screaming at Kazuma “No, no, don’t do that, argh, are you stupid?!” But hey, he’s a young smitten teenager who’s fallen for someone who seems to be drifting away from him even as he meets her. It’s no wonder he’s so desperate. And so here, in this volume, we have the Sickness. I can only presume Volume Two will bring the Death. It looks to be riveting.

By Makoto Yukimura. Released in Japan as two separate volumes by Kodansha, serialized in the magazines Weekly Shonen Magazine, then Afternoon. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

At last, after years of fans begging for a license, we have one of the most anticipated titles of the year. Makoto Yukimura was released over here previously with his sci-fi garbage scow series Planetes, but that was another “critically acclaimed poor seller” that fans love and publishers hate. Nevertheless, the author’s skill is demonstrable in that series, and his art and storytelling have only improved since then. This tale of Thorfinn, a reluctant Viking warrior/prisoner-of-war and his tragic backstory is absolutely riveting, and makes you yearn for the next book in the series to come out so you can read on. Honestly, if it weren’t already in an omnibus (a handsome, hardcover one, by the way, looking very nice), I’d feel even more impatient.

We open with Thorfinn already a young adult, then flash back to tell his backstory. This helps to amp up the tragedy as we can see what a cold-blooded killer Thorfinn can be… and how he pales in comparison to the captain who controls him, Askeladd. For all that this series may be Thorfinn’s, Askeladd is the one who captures the reader’s attention right off the bat, and I suspect he won any reader polls Japan had. Cheerful, clever, sly, and ruthless all in one, Askeladd makes a great anti-hero to contrast with Thorfinn’s sullen warrior. He even has his own moral code, such as it is – one we see in the second half of the book, when we find out just how Thorfinn lost his father Thors and was captured.

By the way, for those who love Berserk, you’ll love this too. It’s not QUITE as bleak and ultraviolent – at least not in this first volume – but there’s a lot of the same feel, and the battle scenes are fantastic (despite the presence of one of the worst Star Wars jokes I’ve ever seen). The art isn’t only good in the battle scenes either – the author has taken great care to be as historically accurate as possible in a fictional manga world, and I loved the attention to detail we see here.

I was expecting this to be a totally male-dominated book – and honestly, it still may end up that way – but there are two very good female roles here. First of all, the book’s only light relief is provided by Thorfinn’s older sister Ylva, a tsundere trapped in 11th century Iceland, who has all the boys of the village falling at her feet but would much rather stomp around and be grumpy. As for Thorfinn’s mother, she mostly exists on the sideline supporting her husband… till we see a flashback to Ylva’s birth, where Thors is prepared to simply nod and leave, and his wife looks like she’ll leap out of the bed and throttle him unless he names their child. The manga is filled with little moments like this.

This is not going to be a cheery romp – expect the majority of the cast to die – but it’s gripping stuff, and incredibly hard to put down. I really enjoyed Planetes, but you can see how Yukimura has evolved further here. The story carries you along effortlessly, makes you care about these people even as it then hurts them horribly, and is simply filled with badass men being badass. It was worth the long wait to get this.

By Satoshi Kon. Released in Japan as “Kaikisen” by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Young Magazine. Released in North America by Vertical.

I must admit, I’ve never really been into Satoshi Kon’s directing work. I saw Perfect Blue years ago, but never got around to his other movies. I do know that many of them are considered works of art by anime fandom, though, so it was intriguing to see this title licensed, a manga that he wrote before he did any of the titles he’s now famous for. I liked what I read, too. This is a solid, mellow, and sometimes preachy story of a young man growing up by the sea in a small town, having to deal with progress, tradition, friendships becoming romance, and mermaids. Most of us have dealt with the same things. Well, maybe not that last one.

The story is quite simple, and fits very well in this single volume release. Yosuke comes from a long line of priests, whose job it is to care for a mermaid egg – and return it to the sea every 60 years, as part of a pact to keep the sea filled with life and healthy. His father is a modernist, and thinks that they could also raise some money with the publicity of this egg. His grandfather is a staunch traditionalist. Yosuke, meanwhile, seems to fall in between the two camps – much like the rest of his life, where as a teen getting ready for exams he can’t quite decide if he wants to escape his hometown or not. This is not helped by the return of Nami, an old friend who had gone to the big city, and who has an obvious bond with Yosuke.

I really liked the way this manga kept a balance between everything it’s trying to do. There’s lots of reflective, quiet scenes, but there’s also several exciting action pieces and a big chase climax. Yosuke can be reserved, but he’s not repressed or anything, he’s just a normal kid who is dealing with a lot right now. I loved the not-quite-romance with Nami, which has just the right touch, and his relationship with his little sister also rang true. Essentially, despite this title involving mermaids, the fact that your suspension of disbelief never comes into play is the most praiseworthy thing.

It’s not perfect, of course – something I’m sure Kon would be the first to acknowledge. The lead villain comes from a stock template of ruthless businessmen who will get what they want without thought of the little people or environment that get trampled underfoot. I suspect Kon didn’t want to end this volume with anyone actually being killed, but that makes the villain’s conversion – oh, I’ve seen what really lives in the sea, and it has made me a better person – the one thing here that’s really hard to swallow. The ending also does seem a bit rushed, for all of its excitement.

But those are just quibbles. Tropic of the Sea is simply evocative, and makes the reader want to walk out along the beach at night and smell the salt water. It’s no surprise that the creator went on to big things.

By Hiro Mashima. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

It’s been a long time since I last did a full review of Fairy Tail. In fact, the last time I did the blurb above said “released by Del Rey”. But this is a pivotal volume of the series, for many reasons. It also suffers from the same problem that has plagued the series since it began, one that many fans, particularly in the West, have trouble getting past: it feels like a One Piece ripoff. What’s most interesting about this volume is that Mashima, who surely must have heard this about five thousand times, goes ahead and duplicates one of One Piece’s most famous moves… but with a slight twist. He is embracing the One Piece-ness of his manga.

But before we get to that, let’s take a quick look at Gildarts and Cana. I’ve always liked Gildarts, who is a great way of showing that goofy grinning shonen boys grow up to become goofy grinning shonen men. This shows in Cana’s confession to him about her parentage, where he can’t resist making jokes about it, till he realizes that this is exactly what she doesn’t need right now. After that, it’s all heartwarming. It also ties in tragically with the end of the volume, where Lucy has to deal with the death of her own estranged father, who she discovers wanted to make amends with her. Lucy’s emotions, where she’s sort of at a loss and vaguely sad at first, are handled in a mature and understandable way.

This brings us to the timeskip. Yes, a timeskip, just like One Piece. This one is a full seven years, though. What makes this one interesting – and divisive – is that in those seven years our heroes were held in a sort of stasis bubble of magic, so that the outside world has aged but they haven’t. This was quite upsetting to many fans, who wanted to see older, non-teenage versions of their heroes start beating things up. But Mashima defends his choice, and I see his point. Fairy Tail as a guild has spent 30 volumes building itself up from a minor laughingstock of a guild to the very best in the land… and now everything is right back to where it started, with our heroes having to climb up once more.

This does lead to a few issues. Most of the main cast whose faces we see a lot were on the island, so for a while when we’re back at Fairy Tail 7 years later we’re following some characters that we haven’t really focused on since Volume 1, like Romeo. It’s meant to be heartbreaking, but lacks the emotional resonance simply as we haven’t seen any of these people enough to feel their frustration. Fairy Tail’s cast is huge, but Mashima sometimes expects us to have an encyclopedic knowledge of it.

So Fairy Tail has done a timeskip, and honestly there’s really only a few shonen cliches it hasn’t gone through yet. I’m not quite sure what could be left to go over in the next volume… oh hey, did someone say tournament arc?