Reviews

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?

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

(please continue to avoid spoilers in comments)

We all knew a volume like this was coming. Despite the mass deaths and danger, things had simply been going too well for our heroes recently. There were heartwarming moments, and points where you marveled at the awesomeness of humanity. That clearly cannot last. And so you have Attack on Titan 7, which, yes, also gives you heartwarming and reaffirming love for humanity, but then brutally stomps all over it and tears it to shreds while laughing in your face.

So yeah, it really didn’t bode well that Levi’s team, for all their backstory and character building, never had biographies at the front of the book. Much of this book (and indeed the series in general) is about the mindset of a soldier, and how you can commit to actions that seem stupid or that you may not believe in. I’ll give Special Ops this, they were decisive and trying to stop the Female Titan. And, in the end, they weren’t good enough and were brutally murdered. This doesn’t mean it was a bad decision, or that they didn’t die like heroes. It’s just a function of life in this book, and how horrible the situation is with the Titans. Things are really bad, and sometimes you make a firm decision that leads to an ignoble death.

Speaking of the Female Titan, as Armin has already noted, she’s definitely one of a special group of Titans that are intelligent and crafty, and it shows throughout the entire book. Even when Erwin has her cornered, she’s still able to think of a way out. And her fight with Eren and Mikasa is not only epic but gives us some stunning motivation on what the Titans are trying to achieve; when given an opportunity to kill Eren, she doesn’t, but tries to kidnap him instead. Eren, presumably as he’s also a Titan, is useful to them in some way. Chilling, really.

I do sort of wonder what it will take to get Levi to break, or if he ever will. He’s the most popular character in the series in Japan, and rapidly taking that position over here as well, but there’s only so far stoic can take you. Will he continue to suffer nobly and look off into the middle distance? If nothing else, he makes a very good contrast to hotheads Eren and Mikasa.

But it’s all about the final scene, which simply makes you want to cry. Eren waking up to see everyone re-entering the city. The jeers of the adults, and the cheers of the little children. Petra’s dad, running to Levi, asking him to give her something, and Levi’s stoic non-response. And the final narration, noting that they’re all basically under arrest, Eren’s going to be turned over (presumably to be tortured and executed), and Erwin and company may be in a lot of trouble all around. It’s a horrible place to leave a cliffhanger. And so naturally here is where it is.

But hey, from here things can only get better… right?