• 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

Genshiken: Second Season, Vol. 1

July 4, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Shimoku Kio. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Afternoon. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

This review is based on an advance uncorrected proof provided by the publisher, and does not reflect a review of a finished product.

It’s not all that much of a surprise that the Genshiken series has returned for more adventures of everyone’s favorite otaku club. The original series also slowly evolved over its nine volumes, seeing the club shed members and switch club presidents, even though the basic cast stayed the same. But now almost all that cast has graduated, so this sequel also has the challenge of introducing a whole bunch of new people and hoping that the reader will appreciate them in the same way they did when Ogiue joined.

Speaking of Ogiue, as the series starts she’s the new club president, not that there’s much of a club. It only has three people, partly as it seemingly duplicates other club’s interests, but mostly as it still has Kukichi. I have to say that while I appreciate his value as a comic foil, Kukichi’s utter creeptasticness still rubs me the wrong way, even in this new series. Luckily, as in the original series, he is used sparingly. This is partly because Kio-san also has another comic relief character to balance things out, Suzanna. Who is also creeptastic, particularly in her inability to speak in anything but old anime phrases, but at least doesn’t make me want to wash afterwards.

As for the new folks, there are two characters who get the bulk of the screen time, and I suspect they will start to force out Ogiue and Ohno just as those two slowly took over from Sasahara and company. Yajima is a poor artist but wants to be better at it, and seems to be filling the ‘we need at least one normal person in the club’ function that used to be Kasukabe’s, though Yajima at least is also an otaku. More interesting is Kenjiro Hata (I thought this might be a Hayate the Combat Butler joke, but it seems to be a coincidence), a character who I can’t really discuss without spoiling the first volume. It’s Hata I expect most Japanese fans will be glomming onto, though I’m not sure about Western fans.

For those wondering if this will resolve anything from the prior series, such as Madarame’s unrequited love… well, Madarame does show up throughout, despite having graduated, and he still seems to be hung up on Kasukabe. Whether that goes anywhere I suspect depends on how fast the new group of characters catches on. I am reminded of the K-On! series, which tried to have its came and eat it too by introducing some new girls for Asuka’s high school band while also following the four others to college. In the end, neither one caught on with readers. Genshiken has been doing this from the start, but we now have a bit more of a tonal shift. As the cast has gotten more and more female, the otaku obsessions have grown more and more BL. The series still runs in Afternoon, a magazine for young men, but I do suspect that the sequel over here may find a larger crossover BL-audience than the original did. (Though the original also had its female fans, of course.)

In the end, I enjoyed getting back to this series. It’s like visiting an old hangout and seeing what’s changed. Thankfully, there’s little melancholic ‘good old days’ here: things are the same as ever, just with a new cast. I look forward to seeing their awkward fits and starts of growing up. Which is, of course, the real plot of Genshiken: Awkwardness Is Magic.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Vagabond, Vols. 1-3

July 1, 2012 by Michelle Smith

By Takehiko Inoue | Published by VIZ Media (first VIZBIG edition)

One of my goals for this Manga Moveable Feast was to finally read some of Vagabond. I’ve been collecting the VIZBIG editions since they started coming out, which means there were ten of these on my shelf (with their spines forming a group portrait) unread. Now that I finally have read some of Vagabond, I’ve found it so different from the Inoue I’m familiar with—and yet containing some of the same themes—that I’m rather at a loss for words.

Shinmen Takezo is the son of a legendary swordsman, though we don’t really find that out until volume three. Since the age of thirteen, when he killed a man who came to Miyamoto village looking to challenge its strongest occupant, he’s been ostracized by all save a couple of childhood friends and he’s recently been off to battle with one of them, Hon’iden Matahachi. They both survive a bloody battle, but Matahachi takes up with a thieving widow, leaving Takezo to return to Miyamoto with tidings of Matahachi’s survival.

To make a long story very short: Takezo meets with an unfriendly welcome and is manipulated by a clever monk named Takuan into reevaluating his life. Four years later, now going by the name Miyamoto Musashi, he shows up in Kyoto looking to challenge the head of the Yoshioka sword school, and though he defeats many of their members, he learns there are still those stronger than him. A drunken Matahachi accidentally sets the blaze that allows Musashi to escape, and the VIZBIG ends with him realizing that the old friend he left for dead might actually have survived.

Even though I knew this was about swordsmen, I somehow didn’t expect it to be as gory as it is. There are a lot of death blows being dealt here, as Musashi is obsessed with measuring/proving his strength against others and willing to sacrifice his life to this aim. That said, at times the art is absolutely gorgeous, and there are a few color pages that look like bona fide paintings. The scope, layout, and pacing of the story all lend it a cinematic feel that is genuinely impressive. There’s one scene early on, when Musashi turns around to face the one opponent left standing and it’s genuinely terrifying.

But yet, I mostly found it unaffecting. I expect there will be more insight into the main character as time progresses, but for now he’s so closed off, so proud of his strength and being hailed a demon that I can’t grow fond of him or endorse his goals. I have a feeling I’m not supposed to. I did identify with Matahachi a lot, though, especially his inferiority complex in regards to his friend and his inability to follow through with the heroic deeds he imagines himself performing. I like Otsu, the fiancée Matahachi left behind, and I’m intrigued by Takuan, the monk. I’ll keep reading for them, if nothing else.

One thing about Musashi reminds me a lot of Hisanobu Takahashi in Real. As a child, Hisanobu was attempting to master a particular basketball move that his father showed him. He worked very hard on it, but was never able to show his father because the latter abandoned the family. Musashi has also been abandoned by his mother and shunned by his father, and part of his drive to test himself seems due to the desire to show them his strength, show them that he doesn’t need to depend on anyone else. Musashi is a real historical figure, not a character Inoue created, but it seems like he’s drawn to these confident yet wounded types.

Ultimately, I can see why Vagabond is hailed as a masterpiece, and I will certainly keep reading it, but my heart will always belong to Inoue’s sports manga, Slam Dunk in particular. The heart wants what the heart wants!

Vagabond is published in English by VIZ Media. Single volumes up through 33 have been published, as well as ten “VIZBIG” editions comprised of three volumes each. An eleventh VIZBIG edition is scheduled to be released in December. Inoue has recently resumed the series in Japan, so the upcoming release of volume 34 (October) will be the first new Vagabond released in English in two years.

Filed Under: REVIEWS Tagged With: Takehiko Inoue, VIZ

Alice In The Country Of Hearts Omnibus, Vol. 3

June 28, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Quin Rose and Soumei Hoshino, based on the game by Quin Rose. Released in Japan as “Heart no Kuni no Alice ~Wonderful Wonder World~” by Mag Garden, serialized in the magazine Comic Blade Avarus. Released in North America by Yen Press.

I have a sad confession to make. You see… I forgot to spoil myself for the end of this manga. I know, it sounds unusual. After all, you are my faithful readers, and know me well. You know that I traditionally spoil myself rotten. And indeed, later on in this review I will be discussing ‘the big spoiler’, be warned. But when Tokyopop released Vol. 5 of this series, they hadn’t yet gone under, and there wasn’t as big a need to find out what was going on. Afterwards, well, I just forgot to. What this means, though, is that for once I came at an ending with no idea what would happen, and thus managed to be both surprised and pleased. Which is especially surprising given the ending’s hardly happy…

In a previous review of this series, I had noted that what I enjoyed most about it was that all of Alice’s choices for her ‘reverse harem’ were so broken. And even though there was a good deal of ‘and she changes them with her pure heart and friendship’ to it – this is still an adaptation of an otome game, after all – many of them stayed pleasantly psychotic and bloodthirsty anyway. Indeed, Ace was probably my favorite character, as he recognizes and is actively fighting against what Alice represents. There’s also some good backstory given throughout, especially regarding Blood Dupre, Vivaldi, and Eliot March. You get the sense that life actually happened before Alice arrived, which is hard to achieve in a setting like this.

I understand, having spoiled myself NOW, that fans of the games were a little annoyed at the opaqueness of the manga, especially towards the end. There’s apparently a whole lot left out about the nature of Peter White, etc. (Which doesn’t seem to bother me as much, mostly as I loathe Peter White. The manga apparently turned up the ‘jerk’ level on several characters, and he was the worst of them.) This is the nature of such adaptation, though, and I recall Higurashi fans being similarly annoyed with the anime. The question is whether one can get a gleaning of what actually happened from what the manga writer givens us. And I think the answer is yes, though it’s only a gleaning. (Apparently the manga writer didn’t understand the game’s ending.)

Here’s where I talk spoilers, by the way.

We’ve had Alice in Wonderland for most of the manga series, but occasionally she gets these pangs of conscience that she really should “wake up” and return to the real world, as her big sister is waiting for her. And as she interacts with the others, the vial she was given at the start fills up with liquid. When it’s full, she can return. And so she does, despite some misgivings, and others telling her not to, and those strange headaches she gets sometimes. And when she returns, she finds… well, actually, she doesn’t. Blood Dupre goes screaming off grumpily into the ‘real world’ after her and forces her to return. Having gotten approval to do this by Nightmare, who can now ‘Seal Off’ Alice’s memories again. And then we see her older sister in a coffin.

And suddenly the entire premise is thrown on its ear. Suddenly instead of ‘a teenage girl lands in a magical fantasy land where she must decide which hot guy she likes best’, it would seem that the land itself is attempting to prevent Alice from sinking into what is presumably hopeless despair in the real world, and that her sitting with her sister having tea and talking books is actually the dream. And that the vial which fills up as Alice interacts with the others is likely to be filling with ALICE’S feelings, not the guys falling for her. And we see why she gets so upset when all the others in Wonderland keep trying to murder each other (well, besides the usual reason anyone would).

So what we have here is a bunch of sociopathic clockwork people attempting to rise above their station and change themselves, even though that is completely impossible, and also help to heal the heart of a broken and damaged young woman devastated at a death in the family by sealing off her memory and keeping her in a fantasy world filled with blood and chaos. And that’s fantastic. Discomfiting, but fantastic. In short, this manga is more for Higurashi fans than for, say, Ouran fans. Highly recommended, and re-reading all 3 omnibuses in one stroke definitely helps as well.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Sunshine Sketch, Vol. 6

June 25, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Ume Aoki. Released in Japan as “Hidamari Sketch” by Houbunsha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Manga Time Kirara Carat. Released in North America by Yen Press.

As I have noted many times before, there are certain manga that I like *because* I can go into them and not be surprised. Most 4-koma style manga fall into that category, mostly as plot development, if any, is glacial. In the case of Ume Aoki’s Sunshine Sketch, I have a limited pallette I want to see. Will Sae and Hiro have not-quite-yuri moments? Will Miyako be extremely silly and weird? Will Yuno be adorable? And indeed I got all of these things while reading the 6th volume of this series. But I was pleasantly surprised to see that I did also get some character development, as well as a sense that Vol. 7 may be the final one (at least for our favorite third-years).

First off, it has to be said that Yoshinoya-sensei, the girls’ teacher, has never particularly been a favorite of mine. She’s there purely as comic relief, and the exhibitionist and boob jokes have always seemed vaguely out of place in a moe blob series like this. And indeed, we still get both of those here. But I was also pleased to see signs that she is a good teacher at heart, as well as a few strips showing her bonding with her own generation of friends. And her advice to Hiro at the end is spot on, seeing through all of Hiro’s stress right to what’s really going on, and soothing her while letting Hiro understand the solution has to come from her. It’s a nice thing to see.

Speaking of Hiro, I was rather surprised by the final collection of strips here, as I figured that if anyone was going to freak out about graduation and losing her best friend, it would be Sae. Hiro has always seemed to be the more mature and together one in our favorite pair. That said, the desire to have a beloved situation stay exactly the same is a well-known one. Hiro’s choice of career, as Sae notes, is an excellent one, and has been quietly signposted through the previous volumes. But most of all, there’s Sae’s reassurance that things will be OK, even if the two are separated that finally soothes Hiro and gives her resolve. They are a wonderful couple (except they aren’t a couple), and everyone around them knows it.

As for the rest, Nazuna has the cover with Yuno this time around, and I’m slowly getting used to her and Nori. She seems to be funniest when horrible things are happening to her, sad to say. As for the art style, well, it’s Volume 6. If readers disliked the art I’m sure they would have dropped it by now. I have noticed a lot less ‘squashed SD’ style in these latter panels, as the girls seem to be drawn more ‘normally’, presumably as Aoki has gained confidence in her work.

Sunshine Sketch 6 gives readers exactly what they want from this sort of series: more of what they like about it. And, as an added bonus, there’s some additional depth as well. An excellent quick read.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Love Hina Omnibus, Vol. 3

June 21, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Ken Akamatsu. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

Things are beginning to pick up a bit in this third volume of Love Hina. Yes, there is still a lot of Keitaro seeing people naked and Keitaro getting hit, but it’s far less than in the first few volumes. Akamatsu is finding he can indeed do things other than ecchi comedy, and is also starting to realize something important: he has no idea where to go with this once his heroes achieve their goal.

Yes, surprise, Keitaro, Naru and Mutsumi all make it into Todai in this collection. Admittedly, it takes 2/3 of the omnibus for this to happen, including a visit to another turtle-infested South Sea island. The reason for this being that Keitaro, convinced he failed, has run away. Except… he didn’t fail. He’s in… provided he submits his paperwork on time. This is what drives most of the comedy here, a fast-paced race against time chase with increasingly ludicrous situations. Something that should be very familiar to Negima readers. Yes, Ken can still bring the ecchi comedy, but the difference between this and the start of the series is the *pacing*. The first volume is glacial, and you only realize how much after seeing these volumes.

Speaking of realization, as I noted, Akamatsu has realized he does not really want Keitaro in college stories. This is what leads to the broken leg that keeps him sidelined most of the last third of the book. And kudos to Akamatsu for lampshading this heavily, given the amount of abuse he’s taken from Naru. Everyone jokes that they had thought he was immortal. Admittedly, making him physically vulnerable does undercut the ‘comedic sociopathy doesn’t hurt’ rules of this universe… I suppose I should be lucky he didn’t get the broken leg via a Naru punch. Anyway, getting back to my point, Keitaro as a hapless college student, worrying he and Naru are growing further apart is kinda boring. But Keitaro the competent archaeologist, using his bad luck for good rather than for evil? That works. Keitaro on the island is the most likeable we’ve ever seen him. (Akamatsu will go too far with this, but we aren’t quite there yet.)

On the romance front, Keitaro has at last confessed to Naru. Who takes her own sweet time in answering him, mostly as she’s just as bad as he is in most respects. This gets contrasted with Seta and Haruka, who not only turn out to have dated when they were students, but also have many similarities to the current Keitaro and Naru. In fact, Haruka’s enraged beating of Seta after embarrassing her one too many times could easily have been a typical Keitaro/Naru farce. It’s a really sweet chapter, though, and one hopes that they can resolve things soon… especially as our heroes seem to realize the parallels with their own situation.

Motoko and Shinobu also get some short arcs towards the end. Shinobu proves to be a fairly mediocre student, and most of her story is spent trying to teach her to study properly while showing off her crush on Keitaro. (Naru doesn’t help by still being in the ‘who likes that idiot?’ phase of her life.) And Motoko’s sister, Tsuruko shows up, supposedly to test Motoko’s allegiance to her sword art, but in reality to try to make her mature more and get over some of her worst hangups. Of course, this being Love Hina, Tsuruko goes about this via some tough love. This gives us an iconic image of Motoko dressed as a maid, determined to become the perfect feminine woman since she can’t please her sister by her sword mastery. The anime would take this and run with it, I seem to recall.

So things look almost ready to wrap up here. Keitaro and Naru aren’t together, but both know their feelings for each other. And they got into Todai. Looks as if this series is ready to wrap up. Of course, it’s not. There’s 2 more omnibuses to go. Join us next time when we introduce the second most controversial character in all of Love Hina (Naru being first, of course.)

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Drifting Net Cafe, Vol. 1

June 19, 2012 by Katherine Dacey

It takes nerve — nay, stones — to update Kazuo Umezu’s bat-shit classic The Drifting Classroom. That’s exactly what Shuzo Oshimi (The Flowers of Evil) has done in Drifting Net Cafe, however, substituting a nebbishy salaryman for Sho, the original series’ twelve-year-old protagonist, and an Internet cafe for Sho’s school. The results are a decidedly mixed bag, suggesting that some texts lend themselves to revision, while others are too much the product of particular author’s imagination to warrant re-telling.

As in the original series, the story begins with a snapshot of the hero’s daily life: 29-year-old Toki has an argument with his pregnant wife, Yukie, then goes to an office job he dislikes. On impulse, he stops in an Internet cafe on his way home from work, where he bumps into Tohno, a girl he loved in middle school. The two begin comparing notes on their current lives when an earthquake plunges the building into darkness. When no one arrives to lead Toki, Tohno, and their fellow customers to safety, the group makes a terrifying discovery: the cafe has been transported from Tokyo to a wasteland from which all evidence of human civilization — roads, buildings, people — has been expunged.

To his credit, Oshimi takes enough time to establish Toki’s routine and personality for the reader to appreciate what’s at stake if Toki doesn’t find a way to return to his old life. None of the other characters, however, are fleshed out to the same degree. Yukie is portrayed as a howling grotesque, at the mercy of her hormones; Tohno is saintly and brave; and the other cafe customers are assigned one or two defining traits, depending on their gender and age. Thin characterizations are a common problem in disaster stories; authors are often reluctant to bestow too much humanity on characters who are destined to become monster food or cannon fodder, lest the audience find the story too dispiriting. Oshimi, however, takes that indifference to an extreme, creating a supporting cast of repellant, one-note characters whose comeuppance elicit cheers, not tears.

The other great drawback to Drifting Net Cafe is Oshimi’s lack of imagination. Though Oshimi is a competent draftsman, he shows little of Umezu’s flair for nightmarish imagery. Consider the way Oshimi renders the cafe’s final destination:

The wasteland, as imagined by Shuzo Oshimi in Drifting Net Cafe.

It’s not a badly composed image; Oshimi makes effective use of the tilted camera angle to convey the characters’ disorientation, and uses a few charred trees to suggest that something powerful scoured the landscape clean. When contrasted with the original version, however, it’s clear that Oshimi’s image elicits a much tidier, less emotional response than the repulsive, molten moonscape that Sho and his teachers discover just beyond the school gates:

Umezu’s vision of the wasteland, from The Drifting Classroom.

Oshimi’s monsters, too, betray his tendency to favor blandly polished imagery over inspired, if crudely rendered, boogeymen. Late in volume one of Drifting Net Cafe, for example, a creature resembling a typical Star Trek parasite attacks a female character, latching onto her thigh. It’s a memorable scene, tapping a similar vein of body-violation horror as Alien and Prometheus, but the monster’s quick defeat makes it seem more like a pretext for fanservice than a genuine menace. Umezu’s monsters, by contrast, take a variety of forms — giant insects and lizards, creepy aliens with bulbous foreheads, giant metallic serpents with grasping hands — all of which seem like the products of a feverish child’s imagination, rather than something copied from a TV show or straight-to-DVD movie.

The characters’ conflicts, too, seem smaller and less compelling than they did in Umezu’s original, which pitted Sho and his classmates against their teachers. The Drifting Classroom‘s adults quickly become deranged with grief and fear, leaving the children to fend for themselves in a hostile environment. Sho and his classmates spend several agonizing chapters struggling to accept the fact that none of the adults are in charge anymore; the students’ first attempts to defend themselves against crazed teachers and giant bugs end in catastrophe, a gruesome reminder of their misplaced trust in the adults.

In Oshimi’s version, however, all the characters are adults. They challenge one another’s leadership, squabble over resources, and indulge their worst impulses, sexual and otherwise. Though some of these scenes pack a visceral punch, most simply reinforce the idea that Toki and Tohno are the only decent folk among a group of unpleasant, self-interested urbanites — not exactly the stuff of high-stakes drama, even if one character finds himself on the business end of a pocket knife.

Where Drifting Net Cafe improves on the source material is pacing. The Drifting Classroom unfolds at a furious clip; characters are maimed or menaced in every chapter, and speak at decibel levels better suited for the Bonnaroo Music Festival than everyday conversation. Oshimi, on the other hand, varies the narrative tempo of Drifting Net Cafe: some chapters are packed with important revelations and dramatic confrontations, while others are more leisurely. These quieter chapters are among the most unnerving, however, as we watch the characters size up each others’ weaknesses, like sharks circling a wounded seal.

Though conceived as a tribute to The Drifting Classroom, Oshimi’s work is more likely to appeal to readers who haven’t read the original, or who find Umezu’s distinctive artwork dated and ugly. Long-time fans of Classroom are likely to find Oshimi’s update slick but soulless, as it relies more heavily on low-budget disaster movies than the original source material for its characters and conflicts.

DRIFTING NET CAFE, VOL. 1 • BY SHUZO OSHIMI • JMANGA • 251 pp. • RATING: MATURE (18+)

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Drifting Classroom, JManga, Kazuo Umezu, Seinen, Shuzo Oshimi

Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Vol. 1

June 18, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Magica Quartet and Hanokage. Released in Japan by Houbunsha, serialized in the magazine Manga Time Kirara Forward. Released in North America by Yen Press.

This is another in a series of media tie-in manga where I have not actually seen the original medium. With Haruhi Suzumiya’s manga I can at least tell you how the manga falls down when compared to the anime and light novels. And Higurashi is the interesting case where most fans agree the manga *is* better than the anime. Madoka Magica, though, is a big phenomenon, one I know through cultural osmosis more than anything else. And while this manga adaptation was perfectly pleasant and didn’t have anything hideously wrong with it (except maybe the usual art style problems), I came away from it with the desire to see the anime and see how it improved on the story. Which, admittedly, may be the reason for many media tie-in adaptations – to get you to seek out the anime/game/novel/toy.

The manga adaptation of this series ran in a seinen magazine for young men, Manga Time Kirara Forward (one of Houbunsha’s many ‘Manga Time’ variations, though unlike most other series that run there Madoka Magica is not a 4-koma). And indeed, despite the cute magical girl plot, young men seems to very much be its target audience. Not that there’s a huge amount of fanservice or adult situations – there isn’t, really. But a lot of this reads like how a male anime fan would want magical girl shows to work. Darker, more weaponized, with a lot less shining optimism. As for me, a person who loves his shining optimism, I’m not sure how I feel about it. Forming a contract to become a magical girl is presented as something you can’t turn back from, and the cliffhanger for this volume fills you with dread rather than inspiring you.

And then there’s Kyubey. As I said, cultural osmosis has led me to know several things about this work without actually seeing it, and Number One With A Bullet was that everyone hates Kyubey. Kyubey looks cute and adorable, like many mascots in similar shows, but his lack of real expression and determination to make magical girls give the whole thing an ominous undertone. Even if I didn’t know about him, I suspect I’d find him creepy.

Our heroine is a bright and shiny optimist in the Usagi mode, and she’s contrasted here with Homura, who is cynical, grumpy, and clearly has a horrific past we don’t know about yet. There’s a yuri fandom associated with this series, and it’s no surprise that these two are a big part of it. Homura is a girl with a mission, and that mission seems to be to stop Madoka becoming a magical girl. Well, so far so good… but with her best friend giving in, I’m not sure how long that’s going to hold up. As for Mami, well, she fills her function. And she does have one of the better lines in the book when she notes that “magical girls don’t always have to be allies”. That line more than anything else shows this is not a shoujo magical girl manga.

As I said at the start, this is pretty solid for the most part. The art is a bit generic (I really couldn’t tell they were designed by Ume Aoki of Sunshine Sketch fame, which I could when I saw the odd anime screencap), but the beats all seem to be there. If you are like me, and can deal with emotional wreckage better on the printed page than on the screen, then this may be the Madoka Magica for you. Anime fans, though, I suspect won’t find much here that’s new.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Alice in the Country of Clover: Bloody Twins

June 14, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Quin Rose and Mamenosuke Fujimaru, based on the game by Quin Rose. Released in Japan as “Clover no Kuni no Alice – Bloody Twins” by Ichijinsha, serialized in the magazine Comic Zero-Sum. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

I never did finish Alice in the Country of Hearts, for obvious reasons. Hopefully that will be remedied later this month by Yen Press. That said, it sold pretty well, so I was not surprised that various spinoffs were licensed. There’s certainly twenty million or so of them coming out in Japan right now. This first volume is complete in one, and focuses on the two cute twins, Tweedledee and Tweedledum. The manga (based on the game once more) posits that Alice did not choose a boyfriend in the “Hearts” game, so instead of a love via “passion” it goes for a love via “friendship.”

Unfortunately, there are a few problems with this approach. First of all, the Dee & Dum story takes up barely half the book, so it’s padded out with a few other short stories based on ‘what if Alice chose xxxxx?’ plotlines. Some of these could be interesting (the Vivaldi plotline in particular), but they’re too short to go anywhere. And since most Western readers will have only read the manga rather than played the game, some seem completely out of left field. Gowland? Really? He was barely in the original manga! The purpose of this is straight up ‘give a nice bone to fans of the game who won’t get to see their path animated’.

As for the main plotline, I was never really a big fan of the twins to begin with, but the main reason to read Alice and enjoy it, at least for me, was that this was a twisted, disturbing variation on an otome game. The reason Alice hadn’t chosen a boyfriend is that they all seemed to be psychotic. You can tell that they’re attempting the same thing here (the twins certainly butcher a lot of people), but whether it’s the different artist or something else the fact is it all comes off as too cute and light-hearted. And Alice falters as well, as requiring her to be in love reduces her to the usual shoujo cliches “he cannot love me the way I love him”, “how can I possibly choose between them”, etc. You know it’s bad when the ancillary character bio describes Ace as ‘more unstable’ in Clover World, but he actually seems genteel by comparison.

This ran in a magazine with a slightly older demographic than the original Hearts manga, and the situations are slightly more adult in nature, though mostly in the way of implication. Throughout the Dee & Dum story, everyone is joking about Alice loving both twins being “tough on a girl’s body”, and the Blood Dupre story has similar implications. It’s not actually too bad, but worth noting given that I think the original manga when released by Tokyopop may have had a younger audience.

There are a large number of sequels/side-stories still to go, but this wasn’t exactly a great place to start. At least it’s only one volume. Hopefully better things will come with Cheshire Cat Waltz, a 3-volume sequel featuring Boris.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Ouran High School Host Club, Vol. 18

June 11, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Bisco Hatori. Released in Japan as “Ouran Koukou Host Club” by Hakusensha, serialized in the magazine LaLa. Released in North America by Viz.

At long last, one of Viz’s most beloved shoujo series is coming to an end. We’ve had all the drama, we’ve had the love confession, so all that’s left is wrapping things up. Luckily, for the most part that means a return to the comedy that was one of the main reasons that fans loved this series. From Tamaki’s over-the-top reactions, to Haruhi’s deadpan remarks, to Kyoya’s smiling nastiness, there’s something for everyone here. And it’s all topped with a layer of sweetness that will give you cavities – but in a good way.

I should probably mention right now, though, that some BL fans of the series may end up being annoyed. Ouran has a huge BL fandom, as many reverse harem series tend to, and the artist enjoyed playing up to it – though always in a silly way. However, now that it’s the end of the series, she does little panels devoted to what happens to the cast when they grow up. A note to authors of books or manga with romantic entanglements – fans HATE this. Telling folks who love to write fanfiction that all of their romantic avenues are blocked by canon just grates. So when Ouran fans started off Vol. 18 by having Hunny married off to Reiko, I suspect the reaction was less “awww, so cute!” and more “Noooooo, he’s Mori’s!”. Be prepared for this throughout the book.

As for the book itself, I had wondered what Tamaki’s reaction to Haruhi’s confession would be like. It’s pretty much exactly as I predicted – which is what makes it fun, of course. Tamaki’s tendency to overdo everything, his naivete at basic day-to-day living and yet his mastery of reading other people are all on display here, and I think after 18 volumes we no longer worry about how he’ll function as an actual responsible adult. The same goes for Haruhi – the change in her over the course of the series has been astounding, and here we see her actually being openly affectionate with Tamaki.

The series proper ends about 2/3 through the volume, so we get two ‘side stories’ taking place after the series. The second is just 6 pages of our main couple being adorable, but the first is full-length, and focuses on Kyoya and his family issues. The author notes in comments that she wanted to leave Kyoya’s story open-ended as it would be very difficult to realistically wrap it up that fast – it will take years. So instead we have Kyoya being clever, but still not quite clever enough to think ahead of his father, which is his main goal. He also clashes with a woman from another family who’s being engaged to one of his brothers. Seeing their sharp, nasty barbs towards each other – all delivered, of course, with bright and happy smiles – made me happy. And of course the rest of the Host Club is there as well, making this probably the funniest chapter of the volume.

As with all harem series that deliver an actual ending, this is going to upset a few people. But I suspect the majority will be delighted. Ouran has been an over-the-top romantic comedy which, even if it got a bit melodramatic towards the end, never stopped delivering entertainment. It’s been worth the wait to have it fully come out here. v(I do wonder if Viz will license Hatori’s new work, The Bullshit Delusional Opera, when it comes out in Japan. It may need a title change.) Congratulations to Haruhi, Tamaki and the cast!

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Until Death Do Us Part, Vol. 1

June 8, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Hiroshi Takashige and DOUBLE-S. Released in Japan as “Shi ga Futari wo Wakatsu made” in 2 separate volumes by Square Enix, serialization ongoing in the magazine Young Gangan. Released in North America by Yen Press.

It feels rather refreshing, after reading this first omnibus, to know that I will not have to be thinking of ways to praise the author’s fresh, original ideas. There’s nothing like that here. Not that this is a bad manga – it’s quite good – but it is an action-packed thriller with spectacle and excitement, not a densely plotted opaque mystery. Well, unless it surprises me later. That said, as I indicated, it’s startling how well this works anyway. This manga is a compulsive page-turner, with likeable, cool characters and lots of good action scenes that are (for once) relatively easy to follow.

The premise reads like the author stared surfing TV Tropes and writing stuff down. Our hero, Mamoru, a blind swordsman who is testing new technology that lets him a) see folks as wire frame-type contours, and b) cut them with a monofilament sword, is interrupted one day by a girl, Haruka, who can predict the future under the right conditions and has a lot of bad guys hoping to catch and dissect her to figure out why. He reluctantly helps her, and along the way they meet the organization he belongs to, a special task force composed of victims of terrorism who are not getting revenge. Together they will bring down an insane global conspiracy!

Again, if I read that synopsis of fanfiction.net, I’d be moving on without a second thought. But the creators make it work, mostly by not really giving anyone time to think about anything. This is an action manga, and things rarely stop for more than 5-10 pages without another firefight or sword battle breaking out. The lead is cool, handsome, morally ambiguous, and has a tortured past – winning qualities, every one. (I am unsurprised that this manga has a large female following.) His colleague Ryotaro is refreshingly normal, aside from his amazing tech savvy, and seems to handle the dual role of Mr. Exposition and Straight Man fairly well.

As for Haruka, well, so far she is the typical waif. I have the most misgivings about her, mostly due to the way this role has been handled in the past. I hope that she gets stronger and starts taking her own initiative (although props to her for escaping and seeking out Mamoru at the start). There’s also the whole “one day I’ll marry him” thing, which gets wrapped up in the actual title of the manga. Given she seems to be about 12, let’s hope that it continues to stay hypothetical. The artist doesn’t seem to draw in a very ‘moe’ style, which is a plus. On the other hand, he avoids panty shots and then points out in the afterword how he avoided panty shots, which is a minus. Sort of a ‘Don’t show, don’t tell’.

So despite being a collection of action cliches, this is a lot of fun. There’s a fair amount of violence, as you’d expect from a manga about terrorists who fight other terrorists, but it’s not overwhelming. It also has a good head on its shoulders, and even an occasional sense of humor. I think the word I’m looking for is solid. Yen has found good, solid entertainment here. Check it out.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Nonnonba

June 6, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Shigeru Mizuki. Released in Japan as “Nonnonba to Ore” by Chikuma Shobo. Released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly.

It feels somewhat odd that after reading Nonnonba, a semi-autobiographic epic by the creator of Gegege no Kitaro, the man who is known worldwide for his amazing yokai tales and characterizations, that I found the yokai in it the least engaging part. Oh, don’t get me wrong, there are some spectacular spooks here. My favorite was probably Azuki-Haraki, who looks as if he had been drawn by guest artist Robert Crumb. But though there are yokai and supernatural elements throughout, the reason this is such a famous title – it’s gotten many accolades ever since its first publication in 1977 – has been its human characters, in particular Shigeru himself.

There are several main plotlines that flit through Shigeru’s life as he grows older in this volume. His flighty father’s continued schemes to chase his dream – and unemployment that inevitably follows. The young child gangs that roam the streets, which seem to be undecided as to how serious they are – especially after their new leader has Shigeru ostracized. His grandmother – the titular Nonnonba – moves back in with them after the death of her husband and is very much what you’d expect, dispensing good advice, acting as a nanny/doctor, and occasionally dealing out exposition on yokai.

One of the main things I noticed, though, was the series of girls approximately Shigeru’s age who arrive, seeming to be potential love interests, and then move on. At first this is sudden – “Oh, she died of the measles a week ago”, and you accept it as part of what being a child in 1930s Japan was like. Then we meet a sickly girl who enjoys Shigeru’s drawings, and given she has ‘doomed’ written all over her (if this were a Western comic she’d be dying of consumption), one can briefly raise an eyebrow. Then, in the last third of the book, we meet Miu, a young girl who is part of a ‘family’ moving into a haunted house – and can also sense nature and the supernatural in an almost psychic way. I was fairly sure she would die as well – the color pages at the start made me think they were all going to the land of the dead – but her fate is far more realistic, fitting in with the darker tone of the 2nd half of the book.

Still, the book itself is not depressing. Life is something that has to be accepted, in all its facets. Mizuki is an expert at capturing his childhood in a way unfettered by preciousness or overanalysis. There’s also a bit of eerie prescience here – Shigeru reforming the teen gangs to ‘pacifism’ is all very well and good, but I kept being reminded that this group of kids would be going off to war in a scant few years. This is probably why Shigeru the child has an emphasis on pacifism – and why the ostracized gang eventually joins him over the dictatorial leadership of the stronger Kappa (Kappa being a nickname, he’s not a yokai).

I wasn’t as blown away by this as I thought I would be – Gegege no Kitaro remains the title I want to see here the most – but it was a nice, solid autobiography, mixing reality and fantasy in such a way that each complements the other. There’s a lot of extremely flawed human beings here, including Shigeru, but the overall mood is one of nostalgia and remembrance.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

GTO: 14 Days in Shonan, Vol. 3

June 4, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Toru Fujisawa. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Vertical.

After an action-packed 2nd volume of GTO, it’s time to take a breather and get back to some lighter stuff before we gear up for the next broken teen who Onizuka has to save. And hey, didn’t Shiratori-san say that there was someone else who worked at the White Swan? Who was even prettier than her? Could this possibly be the overture to… some romance?

Well, no. This is Eikichi Onizuka, so whenever romance rears its ugly head, he turns into the immature idiot that he is. (Yes, he’s also a heartwarming badass, but hey, facets.) First he tries his hand at seducing Shiratori-san via some red wine, which is a little creepy but it becomes clear that he’s not really going to follow through on it unless she’s awake and willing… okay, no, it’s creepy no matter what. Then when she falls asleep, he falls back on peeping on the other caretaker in the house, who we haven’t met before… or so we think. Much to his surprise and ours, the other caretaker turns out to be his old not-girlfriend Shinomi Fujisaki, who is, as you might imagine, displeased at Onizuka ogling her nude.

It’s great seeing Shinomi back in the storyline, as she makes a good love-interest contrast to Azusa Fuyutsuki from the GTO series proper. Whereas Azusa tends to be ‘he’s sort of a weirdo, but I can see the good heart inside of him’, Shinomi is very much in the ‘I’ve always seen the good heart, but WHY IS HE SUCH A FREAK’ school of lovers. As you might expect, Onizuka walking back into her life after disappearing years ago confuses the hell out of her, and she responds via violence in the best tsundere way. (Onizuka, who is very similar to her, responds by changing the subject and being over the top goofy, which we’ve already seen tends to be his way of avoiding serious issues.) I don’t expect much to be resolved here – this takes place during GTO proper, which didn’t resolve any romances – but it’s sweet to see them reunite.

As for the rest of the manga, we’ve resolved the parental problems that Miki had, and now that we know that she was merely the easiest ‘villain’ to take down, we know it’s only going to get worse. So we get a flashback to another resident of the White Swan, Ikuko, and her abusive mother, who was so bad social services had to step in. This is probably one of the best written parts of the entire volume, as it really gets into the ambiguous feelings kids have when their loved ones abuse them – and the stoic acceptance that it’s their fault for not being “good enough”. I’m not sure we’ll see more of Ikuko’s life later on, but I do hope that she manages to come to terms with her upbringing.

Then there’s Seiya, who would appear to be the next ‘project’ for Onizuka to fix. And once again, we see how Onizuka works – forcing the kids to ‘go too far’ in order to show them that deep down they really don’t want to take the final steps towards darkness. All of these manga – GTO, Shonan Jun’ai Gumi, and this spinoff – stem from the same genre of Japanese manga, which are about teenagers and family, and how much they feel abandoned and helpless. If Onizuka can help these kids reconnect emotionally, on any level, he’s going to do it. And it would appear that the fourth volume will be another action-filled one.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

A Certain Scientific Railgun, Vol. 4

May 30, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Kazuma Kamachi and Motoi Fuyukawa. Released in Japan as “Toaru Kagaku no Railgun” by ASCII Media Works, serialization ongoing in the magazine Dengeki Daioh. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

This volume, as the back cover tells you, marks the start of the ‘Sisters’ story arc for Railgun. Which, if you’re only following the manga, means very little to you. But this is not a manga for those who merely read the manga (though it can be read on its own fairly easily, as I have shown). Franchise manga tend to lack the surprising plot twists that original titles may have, simply as they rely on an already existing base. So if you’re buying this 4th volume of the Railgun manga, it’s already expected that you’ll have bought the Index light novels, and the Index manga and anime, and indeed Railgun’s own anime, which is namechecked here. Higurashi does this too – I’ve been coyly pretending not to know who the villain is in my reviews, but of course I do – as did all the readers of the manga when it came out. Expectations are set differently.

That said, this volume has a lot to offer. It’s rather upfront about the way that it manipulates its cast – particularly its heroine, Misaki. We start right off with her being shown a boy with muscular dystrophy, and asked to donate some of her DNA to help fight such things. Which would be fine, if she had parents who were also giving consent, or if the scientist askin g didn’t have an evil leer on his face after she agrees. No, we know we’re going to be getting into evil clones right off the bat. (Well, the cover might have clued us in as well.)

Of course, the evil is debatable – the clone on the cover actually looks rather sad and vulnerable (and mysteriously missing genitalia, in the best time-honored tradition). And indeed, when we first meet Misaka 9982, she is immediately filled with likeable traits. She’s snarky, and intelligent, and deadpan, and talks in the third person (something I wasn’t sure Seven Seas would carry over – it sounds more awkward in English, but does help to set the clones apart from the original). This is contrasted with Misaka herself, who spends the entire volume frustrated and not sure how she should feel. She’s heard the rumors before, but being faced with the actual reality is a bit much.

As we see Misaka meet her clone, and have amusing arguments with her clone, and come to see her clone as a little sister sort of figure – complete with giving her a frog badge she got from a crane machine – we know, instinctively that we’re heading for tragedy, and that this clone is going to die. Of course, the number ‘9982’ after her name might also clue us in – these clones are being created as experimental subjects, and their purpose is to die for the greater good. I suspect Misaka is not going to see it that way, however, and the volume ends with her losing it and attacking the mysterious boy who is responsible.

All of this is handled quite well. The manga flies by, and we get just enough characterization from Misaka 9982 to feel horrible about what happens. And certainly we immediately loathe Accelerator, the young man who seems to be our heroine’s new villain. Ah well, I’m sure he will simply be a minor villain… you see? There I go again, pretending that this isn’t a franchise. :) Definitely recommended.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Vol. 1

May 29, 2012 by Katherine Dacey

The opening pages of Puella Magi Madoka Magica suggest a dreary retread of Sailor Moon: Kyubey, a talking cat, appears before Madoka Kaname, a perky yet otherwise unremarkable school girl, and asks her, “Would you like to change destiny?” Our first clue that Puella has something nastier up its be-ribboned sleeve occurs midway through the first chapter, when transfer student Homura Akemi confronts Madoka with a dire, if cryptic, warning: “You should never consider ‘changing yourself’ in any way,” she tells Madoka. “If you choose not to heed my words, those things that you hold dear will all be lost.” Homura then attacks Kyubey, accusing him of using “dirty tactics” to persuade Madoka to make a contract with him.

Though all the trappings of a traditional magical girl manga are in place — the costume changes, the cute familiars, the teamwork — Puella charts a darker, more violent course than other translated examples of the genre. Homura and Madoka operate in a world where magical girls routinely die; though their powers are formidable, magical girls are worked to the point of emotional and physical exhaustion. Moreover, their contracts are signed under duress; Kyubey frequently appeals to girls in desperate circumstances, using their vulnerability as leverage. (In exchange for battling witches, he explains to Madoka, “I fulfill one wish. Any wish you want!”)

In short, Puella manages to have its cake and eat it, too, faithfully adhering to the genre’s conventions while offering an explicit critique of its underlying message of courage and selflessness. The story is the antithesis of a wish-fulfillment fantasy: the powers that Kyubey bestows come with responsibilities that are too difficult for a young, inexperienced person to bear. Throughout the manga, we see examples of magical girls who have become competitive or embittered by their experiences, at risk of becoming witches themselves. We also meet girls who regret the haste with which they made their contracts, as their wishes were fulfilled at the expense of friends and family members.

As sharp as Puella‘s genre critique may be, the artwork is a disappointment. The character designs are faithful to the original anime, but the magical elements look smudgy on the page, the product of too much dark grey screentone. The anime’s surreal fight sequences have lost their visual punch as well. Creatures that looked strange and menacing in color have been defanged, reduced to cute video game monsters floating above the picture plane.

Most of the fight scenes have been compressed into a few pages, further curtailing their impact; we barely have time to register who the opponents are before one of the magical girls has eliminated the threat. As a result, the volume’s climatic scene lacks emotional resonance. Though the characters have repeatedly discussed how dangerous their vocation is, the fight is so fleeting and impressionistic that the stakes seem too low to yield such a devastating outcome.

If the artwork lacks the personality of a Magic Knight Rayearth or Cardcaptor Sakura, however, the actual story is on par with the best translated examples of the magical girl manga. Like the aforementioned CLAMP titles, Puella Magi Madoka Magica treats the magical girl as a character worthy of complexity and genuine interiority; the Puella girls may engage in magical combat, but they’re painfully aware that saving the world can be an ugly business — even if they’re wearing smart costumes.

Review copy provided by Yen Press.

PUELLA MAGI MADOKA MAGICA, VOL. 1 • STORY BY MAGICA QUARTET, ART BY HANOKAGE • YEN PRESS • 144 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Magical Girl, Magical Girl Manga, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, shojo, yen press

Oishinbo A La Carte, Vol. 2 (Sake)

May 22, 2012 by Sean Gaffney

By Tetsu Kariya and Akira Hanasaki. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialization ongoing in the magazine Big Comic Spirits. Released in North America by Viz.

It’s time for the Oishinbo Manga Moveable Feast, and though I had already reviewed the final volume a long time ago (see sidebar), I thought that I would take this time to revisit another volume, one which got a lot of buzz when it first came out over here. That would be the one devoted to sake, Japan’s national alcoholic beverage. And so we get several chapters, including one long multipart epic, devoted to what makes good sake – and why so much of it these days is bad.

Given that Oishinbo is about singing the praises of Japanese food, it’s not particularly surprising that much of it involves praise for Japan in general. One chapter here involves a businessman who has been ‘Westernized’ and has to be reminded of the joys of good old Japanese cooking and liquor. That said, it’s rather startling how much of this volume is just ripping into Japan’s sake trade over and over again. I’ve no idea if things are the same these days (these chapters were written 15-25 years ago), but much is made over the fact that popular sake in Japan tends to be watered down in order to increase profit, and have additives such as charcoal and MSG. It can get fairly depressing.

That said, of course, you knock them down in order to build them up. We also get much praise of the good old-fashioned small-time sake brewer, still using pure ingredients with no additives and storing it properly to bring out the best flavor. There’s actually a lot of comparison with French wine, in a way that reminded me of The Drops of God – it’s noted that France would never treat its wine the way Japan does its sake.

In these Viz compilations, characterization usually falls by the wayside – the danger of working with a 108+ volume series – but we still get a good sense of the main players, which is important for a series like this. You have to sympathize with Yamaoka and Yuka, and care about their lives, as otherwise you’re left with nothing but a manga that lectures you. (Which, admittedly, it can sometimes be anyway.) Yamaoka shows off his cleverness in the final chapter, which reminds us that sake is still an alcohol, and that there are some people who abuse that. And Yuka really shines in the multi-part story, managing to sweet-talk Yamaoka’s father, Yuzan (this is actually a running thing in the series, and Yuka is very, very good at it – note Yuzan’s retainers giggling). There’s no romance here, but if you want that go lean Japanese and then buy the original Vol. 47, which has the wedding.

At the end of the day, though, the way to judge Oishinbo is by its ability to make you want to search out more. After this volume, I wanted some sake – just as I wanted to visit an Izakaya after the final Viz volume. Oishinbo may be about a battle between father and son, or a growing romance between colleagues, but that’s just the spice. The real meat of the manga is its love of food and its burning passion for it being cooked and served properly. And it’s something yoou can’t really get in North American Comics, either, though I’d love Batman’s recipe for crumble apple pie.

Filed Under: REVIEWS

  • « Go to Previous Page
  • Page 1
  • Interim pages omitted …
  • Page 285
  • Page 286
  • Page 287
  • Page 288
  • Page 289
  • Interim pages omitted …
  • Page 350
  • Go to Next Page »
 | Log in
Copyright © 2010 Manga Bookshelf | Powered by WordPress & the Genesis Framework