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Full House, Vol. 2

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Full House, Vol. 2 | By Sooyeon Won | Published by NETCOMICS – In the aftermath of their engagement party, Ellie and Ryder progress from passing angry notes to bickering openly in the privacy of their newly shared home. Despite their mutual show of antipathy, they are unmistakably drawn to each other—Ryder to Ellie’s fearlessness and self-confidence, and Ellie to Ryder’s surprisingly considerate nature. Any hint of potential romance is nipped quickly in the bud, however, by the reappearance of Ellie’s ex-boyfriend, Felix, who turns up on their doorstep begging for forgiveness. Determined not to play the fool, Ryder uses his next film shoot as an excuse to stay away from Ellie and her resuscitated relationship, but when an opportunity arises for him to uncover her true intentions regarding Full House, he finds himself pursuing her in an unexpected fashion.

“They always come sliming back.” This wise statement regarding the nature of ex-boyfriends was uttered by an old friend of mine back in the day, and it works surprisingly well as the theme of this installment of Full House. Though Felix makes a fine show of his contrition and heartfelt affection for Ellie, it’s hard to forget that he was the guy who so brutally dumped her for not being eager enough to jump into the sack. Though it seems obvious that Ellie will eventually throw him over for Ryder (who at least gets her excited, if not quite in the way she’d like) execution is the key to this series’ charm, not result, so it would be a terrible shame to rush.

Though this series is, frankly, stunningly predictable, to leave it at that would be a grave oversimplification. Manhwa-ga Sooyeon Won has an extraordinary talent for turning romantic cliché into storytelling gold, a skill she would later refine to perfection in her outrageously poetic boys’ love epic, Let Dai. Her secret to this is brazen excess, which in this case applies to the series’ endless stream of classic screwball comedy banter—precisely the thing that makes the story so much fun in the first place. Will Ellie and Ryder get together? Of course. Will they face numerous rivals, career obstacles, and ridiculous misunderstandings along the way? Sure! Frankly, none of it matters as long as they keep talking … and talking and talking.

While the narrative trajectory of Full House may not leave much to question, the real mystery here is why, with recent acquisitions such as Full House, Please, Please Me, and Small-Minded Schoolgirls, NETCOMICS has not already become the prime online destination for grown-up women who read comics. For fun, sexy comedy with a fantastic vintage feel, check out Full House.

Complimentary digital access provided by the publisher.

Goong, Volume 5

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Goong, Vol. 5 | By Park So Hee | Published by Yen Press – Goong is set in an alternate version of modern Korea in which the monarchy survived and continues on as in England or Japan. Chae-Kyung is an ordinary girl who happens to attend the same high school as the country’s current crown prince, Shin Lee. Though the prince is much admired and fairly dreamy, Chae-Kyung discovers early on that he is also a real jerk. Unfortunately for both of them, the royal family has decided that it is Shin Lee’s time to marry and after the only girl he proposes to turns him down, he’s bound to follow his family’s wishes and marry the granddaughter of his deceased grandfather’s best friend–a commoner who “treated him like a normal human being and not a king.” The granddaughter is, of course, Chae-Kyung.

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Goong, Vol. 6

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Goong, Vol. 6 | By Park SoHee | Published by Yen Press – Convinced that the royal couple’s relationship will improve if they consummate their marriage, the elders trap Chae-Kyung and Shin together overnight, hoping to create a romantic mood. Unfortunately for them this just makes things worse as Shin’s stubbornness causes him to let Chae-Kyung go on believing that he does not care for her and she has too much self respect to lose her virginity under those circumstances, regardless of her own feelings. Confronted by Yul the next morning, who pulls Chae-Kyung in for a hug that is too close for either her comfort or Shin’s, Shin buries himself further by piling on insults and hurtful comments that only cement Chae-Kyung’s pain and feelings of disgust. Not that Yul is in any better position with her by the end of this volume. Though Yul arranges for Chae-Kyung to visit a sick family member, his confession of love only helps open her eyes to his darker motivations, further proving to her that the royal family is one seriously screwed up bunch and making her own unrequited love even more painful as a result.

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Goong, Vol. 7

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goong7Goong, Vol. 7 | By Park SoHee | Published by Yen Press – A fire in Daebi-Mama’s quarters sends the palace into an uproar, particularly the Queen who finds Daebi-Mama being relocated to her quarters by order of her husband. Meanwhile, Chae-Kyung overhears something that leads her to believe that Shin may have been responsible for the fire and is surprised by her impulse to protect him regardless of his actions. Still reeling from Shin’s public kiss during a recent press conference, things are made more uncomfortable for Chae-Kyung when the Queen Mother arranges for them to share a room on their class trip. Shin, finding himself intensely attracted to Chae-Kyung since their forced night together in the palace, is no more comfortable than she is, and though a string of misunderstandings and their usual stubborn pride keeps either of them from being completely honest about their growing feelings for each other, they come closer to in in this volume than they ever have before. Most surprisingly, as Shin becomes increasingly aware of both Yul’s ambitions and his own father’s stealthy maneuvering against him, he actually begins to push back, suggesting that he may wish to remain Crown Prince after all.

It’s quite a relief to finally see Shin taking some steps to open up to Chae-Kyung, even bringing himself to thank her when she rescues him from an embarrassing situation on stage in a student play. Whether this is due to a real desire to break down walls between them or just stark fear of losing her to Yul remains to be seen, but either way it’s a pleasure to see. Similarly, his speech to his father in the final chapter of the volume gains him new respect when it’s most needed.

Though it was easier to sympathize with Yul earlier in the series, it is now Shin who seems like the good guy (despite his dismal communication skills) and it will be exciting to see where things go from here, now that he’s really standing up for himself and those he most cares about. Most importantly, he finally reveals to Chae-Kyung the reason behind his early dislike of her and why his feelings have changed. “You looked right into my eyes and asked me so many things,” he says to her, in a flash of rare vulnerability. “You asked me if I ever went to Myungdong or to Dongdaemoon Market or if I’d ever watched a movie in a movie theater. When you talked about your life, I felt like my life was fake.” It is an extremely revealing moment we (and Chae-Kyung) have waited seven volumes to see, and the payoff is definitely worth it.

If last volume’s strife could be mainly chalked up to Shin’s inability to explain his feelings, in this volume the credit goes to Chae-Kyung’s inability to let him. Conditioned now to protect herself against Shin’s coldness as a preemptive measure, she’s having difficulty recognizing what’s changing in him enough to actually let it happen. Fortunately (or unfortunately) it looks like the two of them may soon be in a position where they must stick together just to survive, which will certainly be a trial for each of them as well as for their relationship. Watching the two of them slowly learn to truly care for and depend on each other is one of the best things about this series and though the pace may seem excruciating at times, it’s hard to imagine it playing out any other way.

Though this volume is less emotionally volatile than the last (despite the obvious drama of things such as Shin’s potential as an arsonist) the fact that it actually begins to veer towards romance at long last makes it a real page-turner of the very best kind. Goong continues to be one of the most compelling girls’ comics (Korean or otherwise) I’m currently reading, and definitely a personal favorite.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Goong, Vol. 8

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Goong, Volume 8 | By Park SoHee | Published by Yen Press – It’s one step forward, two steps back for Shin and Chae-Kyung, as the new openness shakily established between them is blown away by Shin’s resolve to remain Crown Prince–a reaction to the news of his mother’s pregnancy. Both Shin and Chae-Kyung fall back on their own worst habits, with Shin presenting the news as an irrefutable barrier to Chae-Kyung’s future freedom and Chae-Kyung rebelling with all her might. Taking advantage of the situation, Yul throws Chae-Kyung a lifeline, but will it really have the effect she hopes for?

Though Shin’s bullying and Chae-Kyung’s temper continue to be the real barrier to their happiness–both together and as individuals–it is the Queen’s pregnancy that exacerbates everything in this volume, putting Shin on the defensive (on behalf of both his mother and his wife) and making Chae-Kyung further aware of the gravity of her position. Having been asked to assume the Queen’s duties during her pregnancy, Chae-Kyung becomes more mired in tedious palace workings than ever, bringing a new desperation to the promise of divorce, though that promise has now been cruelly retracted.

That Yul finds a way to exploit this comes as no surprise (he is his mother’s son, after all) but it does shed some incredibly unflattering light on how far he is willing to go to get what he wants, even if it ultimately hurts the person he claims to love. “From the start, I had no interest in becoming King,” Yul says to his horrified mother as she struggles for his cooperation. “What I wanted was to take away the most important thing to Shin, because he took away everything important to me.”

Heavy tension and anticipation make this volume’s slow pace maddening to say the least, which is a real testament to author’s skill with consistent characterization. Though it might seem like it would be a huge relief to have these characters shake off their most damaging personality traits and just work things out already, the result would be utter destruction of everything Park SoHee has worked so hard to create. I, for one, am grateful that she has not taken that tempting, deadly road.

The one truly distressing thing about this volume is the re-emergence of Eunuch Kong, who remains this series’ most unfortunate trait. That aside, fans should find plenty to angst over and enjoy in the latest installment of Goong.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Manga Artifacts: A, A’ and They Were Eleven

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Though Vertical has published two series by Keiko Takemiya, the Magnificent 49ers’ work remains largely unavailable in English, with a few exceptions: Yasuko Aoike’s From Eroica With Love (which debuted in 1976 in Akita Shoten), and Moto Hagio’s short stories “A, A’ [A, A Prime],” “4/4 [Quatre/Quarts],” “X+Y,” and “They Were Eleven.”* These four stories comprise a mere 330 pages of material, but they offer readers a window into a key stage in shojo manga’s development, when women artists began pushing the medium in new directions, visually and thematically. Hagio’s work, like Takemiya’s, is unabashedly Romantic, filled with yearning characters who are struggling to uncover their true selves, even when that quest puts them at odds with societal norms. Though there is an intense, adolescent sensibility to some of her stories, that — for me, at least — is part of their beauty; Hagio clearly remembers what it feels like to be sixteen or eighteen, yet the way she frames those emotions is so exquisite and refined that the reader can appreciate her craft, even if the drama seems a little overripe from an adult perspective.

If you’ve been curious about what Takemiya’s peers were doing while she was writing To Terra and Song of the Wind and the Trees, or are wondering what to expect if you purchase Hagio’s A Drunken Dream this fall, read on.

aa_coverA, A’ [A, A Prime]

This sometimes lyrical, sometimes bizarre anthology contains three interrelated stories. In the first, “A, A’, [A, A Prime],” a group of researchers struggle to accept Addy, a new team member who is, in fact, the clone of a colleague who perished several years earlier; in the second, “4/4 [Quatre/Quarts],” Mori, a telepath, becomes obsessed with Trill, a strange young woman who’s virtually mute; and in the third, “X+Y,” a now-older Mori falls in love with Tacto, an androgynous young man who resembles Trill. Addy, Trill, and Tacto are Unicorns, a humanoid species bred for deep-space travel. Though Unicorns share common physical characteristics — most notably a shock of red hair running down the center of their heads — and high IQs — their original purpose was to serve as computer technicians on long space missions — they have a hard time negotiating the human world: emotions baffle them, and the act of forming deep attachments to other people can destabilize their personalities.

Though Hagio rehearses some time-honored sci-fi tropes — especially the danger of genetic tampering — one of her most striking themes is the relationship between memory and identity. Addy, for example, is born with all of her predecessor’s memories of childhood, but none of her predecessor’s memories of Proxima, the remote ice world where the original Addy worked for three years before dying in an accident. That gap in Addy’s memory proves especially difficult for her co-worker Regg, who had been romantically involved with Addy’s predecessor. Addy has no idea who he is, and is bewildered that Regg knows about events from her “childhood” — events that Addy hasn’t discussed with anyone. More troubling still, these “memories” are deeply upsetting, even though Addy knows she isn’t reliving her own history.

Tacto, on the other hand, teeters on the verge of a breakdown because his memory is incomplete. As a young child, he stumbled across a gruesome sight, one which his father attempted to erase from Tacto’s memory. That seemingly humane gesture backfired, however, leaving Tacto with only an emotional echo of the traumatic event and no concrete information about what he’d actually seen; only by recovering those painful memories does Tacto escape his emotional paralysis and embrace Mori’s love for him.

Hagio’s artwork supports the intensely Romantic quality of all three stories, as she represents her characters’ memories with symbolically rich imagery. In “4/4,” for example, Trill is haunted by a recurring vision of corpses, each fastened to the floor with a lepidopterist’s pin — Trill’s memory of numerous, unsuccessful attempts to clone her. (Dr. Sazzan, her caretaker, is obsessed with breeding more Unicorns.) Tacto’s unformed memory of his childhood resembles the nightmare paintings of John Fuselli; Tacto sees a disembodied, demonic face emerge from the rocky surface of an asteroid, a swirling black cloud with eyes and a terrible mouth.

That dream-like quality extends to the settings as well, which mirror the characters’ turbulent emotional states. Trill and Mori, for example, visit a spectacular aviary aboard a space station; it’s a lush, erotically charged setting evocative of a Rousseau painting, and one that suggests the intensity of Mori’s desire for Trill. Hagio performs a similar trick in this sequence, transforming an interstellar reconnaissance mission into an intimate windsailing expedition through the stars:

aprime

Lest A, A’ sound like The Unbearable Lightness of Being in Space, let me assure you that Hagio demonstrates a unique ability to mix the sublime with the ridiculous. Her characters’ names, for example, are just about as goofy as they come: Dr. Wright Moonsault. Regg Bone. Marble. Professor Sazzan. Their costumes, too, have the same overripe quality as the names, with men sporting headbands, half capes, tall boots, and Renn Fair hats, and women clad in off-the-shoulder jumpsuits. The subplots take the cake, however, for their sheer moonbattiness: in “X+Y,” for example, Tacto’s father invents a temporary sex change drug that enables a male colleague to become pregnant, a subplot that actually holds the key to unlocking Tacto’s past.

Now out of print, VIZ originally released A, A’ in 1997. Expect to pay about $25.00 for a decent used copy if you choose to buy it online through ALibris or Amazon’s network of retailers. You might also try the library or your local comic shop’s bargain bin.

theywereeleven3THEY WERE ELEVEN

Ten cadets at an interstellar space academy are dispatched to a decommissioned ship. Their task: remain on board for 53 days without pressing the panic button; if they persevere, all ten will pass their final exam. Once aboard the ship, however, the cadets realize something is amiss. Not only do they have an extra crew member, but a series of mechanical failures and explosions threaten to send the ship hurtling into the surface of a neighboring star.

Though the premise could be spun out in the manner of, say, Event Horizon, Hagio favors a Gene Rodenberry approach, emphasizing character development and social commentary over gunplay, robots, or totally icky alien life forms. (You know the kind: they embed themselves in your chest cavity, hunt you down like a rabbit, or just spray toxic venom in your face.) Like the good astronauts of the starship Enterprise, They Were Eleven‘s cast are humanoids of various shapes and sizes. A few seem empathic; one has remarkable healing powers; another is tall and scaly; yet another looks like a distant relative of The Thing; and one pretty character has yet to decide whether it will develop into a man or woman. The dilemmas the cadets face — technical, social, and medical — also place us firmly in Star Trek territory, inspiring the characters to ruminate on issues as varied as gender roles and the ethics of sacrificing an individual for the good of the collective.

In fact, the exploration of gender is one of They Were Eleven‘s most interesting subplots; Frol, the sexually indeterminate member of the crew, is furious that her shipmates construe her as female. “I hate women!” she shouts. “Women are nothing but a waste of space!” Midway through the story, Hagio reveals the source of Frol’s misogyny: her parents want her to become the ninth wife of a prominent nobleman. If Frol passes the Galactic Academy exam, however, she will earn the right to become a man, a privilege usually reserved for a family’s eldest child. (Frol’s people are born hermaphrodites, becoming male or female only in adulthood.) Hagio’s critique of gender roles is both obvious and sly — obvious, in that Frol’s objection to being a woman stems from the division of labor on her home world (men rule the roost; women do all the work and bear lots of children) and sly, in that Hagio uses primogeniture as a metaphor for the broader sense of entitlement that comes with being born male.

If Hagio’s aliens are strictly by the Star Trek book, all funny foreheads and funky hides, her layouts are stunning, punctuated by several arresting, full-page images: an enormous hall of cadets taking their exams (each in a groovy, womb-like isolation pod to prevent cheating), a picture of the dying star around which the test ship is orbiting, a character’s profile dissolving into a trail of stars. Hagio juxtaposes these expansive images with long, almost claustrophobically tight scenes of shipmates bickering and coping with the latest mechanical failures. It’s a neat trick, giving us a sense of how tight quarters really are aboard the White, and suggesting how that small space exacerbates tensions among the crew. And oh, those interiors! Like Takemiya, Hagio loves to draw detailed banks of computers and rows of tubes and wires and pipes, bringing the ship to vivid life. (Or, perhaps more accurately in the case of They Were Eleven, showing the ship in all its decrepitude.)

theywere11_page

Much as I would like to recommend They Were Eleven, the story is out of print in English. In the mid-1990s, VIZ issued it in two forms: as a four-issue comic (1995), and in the anthology Four Shojo Stories (1996). Used book dealers have gotten wise to the scarcity of this title; copies of Four Shojo Stories generally retail for $60 and up. Though I didn’t have too much difficulty scaring up the old VIZ Flower floppies on eBay (and I rather enjoyed the American-style presentation), it would be great to see this chestnut re-issued for a generation of readers who think that Black Bird is the first and last word in girls’ comics.

* Hagio’s story “Hanshin” was reprinted in The Comics Journal‘s shojo manga issue from 2005 (no. 269). For the purposes of this essay, I’m focusing on Hagio’s commercially available work. And speaking of work by pioneering shojo artists, Swan, which ran in Margaret from 1976 to 1981, is also available in English (CMX), and is the work of artist Kyoko Ariyoshi, who was born in 1950.

This an expanded version of a review that originally appeared at PopCultureShock on 1/20/07.

100% Perfect Girl, Vols. 10-11

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100% Perfect Girl, Vols. 10-11 | By Wann | Published by NETCOMICS | Rated 13+ – Now firmly back in Jarte’s clutches, Jay falls ill from stress and fatigue, finally opening Jarte’s eyes to the monster he’s become. As he nurses her back to health, the two slowly reconcile, though not without emptying their frustrations out on each other along the way. With their long-awaited wedding day finally on the horizon, it seems as though Jay and Jarte might actually find an awkward kind of peace together. Unfortunately, Jarte’s enemies still have one last trick in store.

After everything this story’s heroine has been through, putting a positive spin on her relationship with her primary abuser is no easy piece of work, which is not to suggest that Wann doesn’t put in one hell of an effort. Given a second chance to prove he trusts Jay, Jarte comes through like a hero of the dreamiest kind, even sacrificing himself to save his beloved. Unfortunately, even readers with selective amnesia will have trouble buying Jarte’s redemption this late in the game.

Plausibility aside, however, it must be noted that Wann’s ability to express her characters’ emotional weakness and mental anguish is no less than striking. There are even times when it seems she understands how sick the romance she’s written truly is. At one point, for instance, an ally of Jay’s suggests that she’s fallen victim to Stockholm Syndrome—one of the most believable explanations offered over the course of the entire series. Jay protests valiantly, of course, but it doesn’t stop the accusation from ringing true.

Though this series is beautifully drawn, genuinely compelling, and emotionally fraught, it ultimately falls far short of satisfying romance.

Digital access provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

100% Perfect Girl, Vol. 9

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100% Perfect Girl, Vol. 9 | By Wann | Published by NETCOMICS | Rated 13+ – Jarte is the monarch of a small but economically robust city-state called Roinne, and Jay is a Korean high school student who dreams of being an artist (against her family’s wishes). The two meet by chance in Korea, and Jarte finds himself so enamored with Jay that he pursues her until she agrees to become engaged to him. Though he appears to love her, Jarte is overprotective and extremely controlling. At first, Jay is unhappy with his overprotective nature, but over time she begins to truly fall for him. Unfortunately, just as she realizes she actually loves him, she is involved in an accident that causes her to lose her memory, placing her in the hands of a beautiful but bloodthirsty mafia don who will do anything to keep her.

Subsequent volumes follow Jay as she is shuttled around between three obsessive, violent, tyrannical men: Jarte, whose intense obsession with protecting Jay somehow renders him entirely unable to do so; Luigi, the brutal Italian mobster who takes hold of Jay while she is suffering from amnesia; and Clarence, a vicious arms dealer obsessed with destroying Jarte. Thanks to her involvement with these men, through the course of the series Jay becomes a victim of kidnapping, assault, abuse (both verbal and otherwise), and attempted rape, eventually becoming so broken and depressed that she attempts to take her own life.

In volume nine, despite having finally freed herself from the shackles of the men in her life and finding herself on the brink of real notoriety as an up-and-coming artist, Jay is dragged back into the muck by a plot to ruin her family and finds herself crawling back to Jarte to offer herself to him in return for clearing her family’s name. Jarte takes her up on her offer, but unfortunately time and loss have turned him into a true monster, and as the price for what she wants, he imprisons her and forces her to agree to a loveless marriage. A look into Jarte’s thoughts reveals that he is acting mainly out of fear of losing her again, but that doesn’t stop him from treating her like a cheap possession and forcing himself on her repeatedly. Weak and heartsick, Jay falls ill, forcing Jarte to face the terror of losing her once again. But will his remorse come too late?

By this point in the series, Jay has become so deeply damaged and Jarte such a beast, it is nearly impossible to find the will to root for their relationship, despite the fact that the story seems to be continuously demanding it. The excuses made for Jarte’s behavior have become so old by now not one of them holds up, and Jay is so hopelessly drawn to their destructive relationship it’s hard to maintain sympathy for her, even as she is made the victim once again. The sense that all of this is somehow meant to be romantic on some level is quite disturbing, though the author undeniably displays quite a bit of insight into the broken psyches of these people. As difficult as it is to like any of the characters, it is equally difficult to turn away from the emotional and psychological train wreck that Wann has created.

It is also difficult to know if the oppressive atmosphere of this volume is truly as intended. Volume eight was, in many ways, a breath of fresh air. The freedom that Jay felt having finally escaped eternal captivity back into the light where she could truly become herself again (even regaining her ability to paint) was palpable and brought sudden meaning to the series. She had even found someone to trust who didn’t want to own her or possess her body–something which had seemed impossible in this story. Seeing her now in a position to once again lose herself to the man who essentially brought her to ruin is honestly horrifying and disheartening on a level that seems deeper than Wann could have possibly desired.

Wann’s art is lovely, and all the characters are devastatingly attractive, making the visuals a definite highlight of the series. The panel layouts, too, are full of expression and quite wonderfully creative, evoking a sense of freedom and artistry that is unfortunately lacking in the storytelling itself. With less than two volumes left to go, time will tell if the story can manage to pull itself out of the depths of bodice-ripper romance to match the quality of its visuals.

Though the first seven volumes of this series are available in print with more to come (volume eight is due at the end of this month), the real value is at NETCOMICS.com, where each chapter (released simultaneously in Korean and English) can be viewed for $.25 apiece. The endless melodrama and misogynistic overtones will be a fatal turn-off for some readers, but for those with a love of soap opera and a stomach for violence, 100% Perfect Girl provides an attractive package at an unbeatable price.

Digital access provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

11th Cat Special

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11th Cat Special | By Kim MiKyung | Published by Yen Press | Rated Teen – The 11th Cat Special is named for Kim MiKyung’s fantasy manhwa series, 11th Cat, but it is actually a group of short stories, only one of which is related to the 11th Cat universe. That story, “Pieces From Nomi’s Past,” is a bittersweet tale of friendship, loss, and the callousness of a creator towards his creation, which works surprisingly well as a stand-alone piece, even for those not familiar with the series.

The rest of the stories, each chosen from the author’s early work, are unsophisticated and not particularly well-crafted, but they are also original, whimsical, and generally fun to read. The vast majority of them contain supernatural or fantasy elements, such as ghosts or aliens, in situations you’d expect from the minds of a group of middle-school students making up stories to entertain each other at lunchtime. “The Alien House” for example, features a group of aliens disguised as a human family, the “daughter” of which begins dating a human boy as a research project and who repeatedly mistakes her own body’s symptoms of a crush (pounding heart, blushing, etc.) as signs of life-threatening illness. Another story, “The Reason Why I’m Poorer And More Burdened,” involves a poor, lazy student who gets tricked into accepting an expired lottery ticket as compensation for acting as guardian of a ravenously hungry alien baby who eats him out of house and home. None of the stories last long enough to go anywhere important, but they also avoid becoming tiresome or wearing out their jokes.

MiKyung’s art is attractive and full of energy, and is largely responsible for raising the early stories up above amateur level.

While 11th Cat Special may not provide much fodder for deep thought, it does offer a cheerful dose of light, silly fun.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Comic, Vols. 4-5

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Comic, Vols. 4-5 | By Ha SiHyun | Published by Yen Press | Rated Teen – Spunky high school student Alice Song wants to be a manhwa artist and is thrown suddenly into the professional world when she wins third prize in a national contest held by a popular magazine. Alice’s excitement quickly dims once she realizes how far she really has to go, but she finds encouragement from an unexpected source—Patrick “Saturn” Kang, an arrogant, moody professional who happens to attend the all-boys high school next to hers. Their initial encounters are less than successful, but after quite a number of arguments, mishaps, and misunderstandings, Patrick agrees to take Alice on as his assistant to help her improve her craft.

In volume three, with Alice’s girlhood crush, Mr. Hwang, temporarily out of the picture, it looked like Alice and Patrick might finally figure out they like each other, but as volume four begins, Alice’s manipulative friend Daria has decided she wants Patrick for herself and begins scheming to push Alice out of the way. It takes nearly two volumes for Patrick to see through Daria’s designs and decide to confess his feelings for Alice, but even then, Daria manages to get the upper hand and twist things her way, leaving Alice devastated by the end of volume five.

Despite the drama and anticipation of Patrick’s confession, volumes four and five hit a low point in the series. Though the romantic leads are both appealing and it’s fun to watch them discover their feelings for each other, Daria’s outrageous machinations are just plain tedious and steal too much focus from the story’s real appeal—Alice’s journey to becoming a professional manhwa-ga—which is all but invisible in these volumes.

With its energetic, attractive art and idiosyncratic characters, Comic has the potential to be both entertaining and romantic while also offering an enticing glimpse into the world of aspiring young manhwa artists. Hopefully over the next few chapters it can pull itself out of the romantic dregs and restore the balance that made its early volumes so much fun.

Review copies provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Legend, Vol. 4

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Legend, Vol. 4 | By Kara & Woo SooJung | Published by Yen Press | Rated Teen – Modern-day student Eun-Gyo Sung is saved from a fall on the subway tracks by the mysterious and attractive No-Ah, who tells her that his sister has been kidnapped. She agrees to help him find her, and is soon swept into the past on a quest to recover the seven fragments of the legendary Seven Blade Sword.

In volume four, Eun-Gyo, No-Ah, and their recently acquired companion, Ho-Dong, encounter a mansion in the wilderness. They are invited to stay the night by its beautiful mistress, who turns out to be an enemy sent to kill No-Ah or otherwise separate him from Eun-Gyo. Fortunately, No-Ah is able to see through the girl’s nefarious plot, and though he is badly injured, he manages to survive thanks to a surprise rescue by a cryptic young man whose true identity is not revealed until the end of the volume.

Though Legend shows promise, its success at this point is still somewhat shaky. The characters are all interesting and fun to read, the art is extremely cute, and there are enough twists and mysteries in play to keep the story at least moderately compelling. Unfortunately, the obliviousness of the story’s heroine is extremely difficult to swallow, and this damages both her believability and the credibility of the tale overall. Eun-Gyo is repeatedly addressed as “mistress” and “princess” by the various characters that turn up in the story, and is quite obviously vital to the recovery of the Seven Blade Sword, but even after four volumes she seems to have not caught on. The story’s pacing is weak as well, and though by the end of the volume things seem to finally be picking up, it may be too little, too late for some readers.

That said, there is enough here to compel most readers into the next installment, which will hopefully move Eun-Gyo’s character forward along with the story as a whole.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Let Dai, Vols. 1-15

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Let Dai, Vols. 1-15 | By Sooyeon Won | Published by NETCOMICS | Rated 16+ – Jaehee Yoo is a smart, responsible high school sophomore whose life is changed forever by a single chance meeting. One afternoon in Seoul, Jaehee spots a group of young gang members mugging a girl. He attempts to intervene, and is soon introduced to the leader of the gang, Dai Lee, a cruel, seemingly conscienceless boy to whom he is inexplicably drawn. After several increasingly violent encounters, Jaehee finds himself being initiated into the gang and falling into an obsessive romantic relationship with Dai. As others in his life are drawn into Dai’s world and the suffering that inevitably brings, Jaehee struggles between his obligations to friends and family and his bond with Dai, against which he feels increasingly powerless.

Let Dai is ridiculously melodramatic, unrelentingly violent, borderline misogynistic, deeply implausible, and an incredibly compelling read. The first chapter begins with the narration, “Love was like a banquet of pain,” setting the story’s melodramatic tone from the start, but this is not a bad thing, by any means. Sooyeon Won’s sense of drama and flowery language is one of the series’ greatest charms, capable of reverting even the most jaded adult woman back to her thirteen-year-old self. Won is Emily Brontë, E.M. Forester, and S.E. Hinton all rolled up into one tragically romantic girl-pleasing package. Outside the hazy, love-drunk filter of the series, Jaehee and Dai would almost certainly be unbelievable as real-life boys, but they are so lovingly and richly written, it hardly matters. Even in the final volume, as the story’s delinquent heroes are discussing F. Scott Fitzgerald and Pablo Neruda, reciting poetry, and declaring, “It’s just like the way I love you,” to each other while bicycling attractively over a forest path, it’s impossible to stop reading.

Much is made of Dai’s impact on Jaehee’s life and the lives of those around him, but the character who actually changes the most over the course of the series is Dai. At the beginning of the story, he is written as a classic sociopath. He has no regard for his safety or the safety of others, no remorse, no empathy, no tolerance for compassion, nor does he see any value in those qualities. He is unapologetically cruel, and feels no responsibility for his own actions or desires. It is desire, however, that ultimately forces him to grow. On several occasions, Dai declares that he will not forgive Jaehee for choosing to help or fulfill a commitment to someone else, yet eventually he must in order to come back to Jaehee, whom he appears to genuinely love.

Dai’s growth is slow and sometimes deceptive. For instance, at one point he arranges to have his former gang brutally beaten in front of a girl whom they gang-raped in a questionable attempt to make amends. Of course, this action’s true aim is to free Jaehee from guilt over the incident so that he can (according to Dai’s logic) be released from his obligation to the girl and commit himself more fully to Dai. Still, there are real changes in Dai as the story goes on, as he is forced to learn to respect Jaehee’s hopes and feelings and how those extend to people other than himself.

If Dai’s journey is about learning to accept the needs of others, Jaehee’s is about learning to accept himself. Strangely, though the entire series is filled with narration in which Jaehee talks about how tragic and painful Dai’s influence on his life will be, for the most part Jaehee appears happier in his life with Dai than he was before. Yes, he’s hurt people and experienced loss, and he’s certainly felt a great deal of pain over how their relationship is received by others, but he admits more than once that he doesn’t like the parts of himself that are selfless and reliable, and is genuinely thrilled with the freedom he feels when he is with Dai. It may seem odd to support a character’s quest to become more selfish, but in this case, there is a sense that if the right balance can be found, Dai can teach Jaehee to live more for himself and for the moment, and Jaehee can teach Dai to feel responsibility for others. It is this, more than anything, that makes it possible for the reader to continue to root for the relationship even as other characters are being hurt in the process.

While the story’s initial approach to its primary relationship is filled with dire warnings of pain and suffering that hover dangerously close to homophobia, Jaehee’s appeal for his mother’s acceptance of his sexuality later on in the series is very nicely written. The author unfortunately clings to Jaehee and Dai’s obsessiveness as a bit of a crutch, allowing them to repeatedly express their devotion to each other without quite admitting what that means. Both characters claim that the gender of the other “doesn’t matter,” and their on-screen sexual relationship is surprisingly chaste. Still, Jaehee’s plea for understanding and the arguments made against it by Jaehee’s mother will be sadly familiar to many gay teenagers (and adults) who have come out to their parents, and the eventual resolution between them feels very genuine.

Despite the all-consuming quality of Jaehee’s relationship with Dai, Won manages to maintain a good-sized cast of fully realized supporting characters as well. Standouts here are Eunhyung Song, Jaehee’s almost-girlfriend whose traumatic encounter with Dai’s gang breaks her in ways from which she will never recover, and Naru Hagi, a carefree, narcissistic classmate of Jaehee’s who lends an unexpected warmth to the series. Both of these characters are just as richly developed as the two leads (perhaps even more so in the case of Eunhyung) and their personal stories are incredibly compelling.

If there is one truly regrettable thing about Let Dai it is the story’s treatment of women. It can be unfair to assume that a character’s attitudes reflect the author’s, but Dai’s hatred of women is so pronounced it is difficult to ignore. Dai is first introduced beating up a high school girl, and things go downhill from there. Certainly his character is complex and deeply troubled, and the author does not mean to suggest that his actions are okay, but it does appear that she means them to be romantic, or at least attractive on some level, which is difficult to swallow. Misogyny in stories written for women is incredibly disturbing and far too common in boys’ love, and as fantastic a read as this story is, it comes uncomfortably close to crossing that line.

NETCOMICS’ online distribution of Let Dai is a pretty good deal for those who aren’t keen on re-reads (about five dollars total to view all fifteen volumes) though the quality of the scans could stand improvement. Much of the text is difficult to read at the lower of the two available screen settings, and some is virtually unreadable in either setting, particularly the frequent sections that feature gray text (lightly outlined in white) on gray or textured backgrounds. In another comic this might be an insignificant problem, but the large blocks of narration that continue throughout Let Dai make the quality of the text paramount.

Sooyeon Won’s art is beautiful, and her characters burst, lifelike, from the page. Even the darkest, most violent moments are aesthetically pleasing. The visual storytelling is very clear and easy to follow, only hindered by the quality of the onscreen reproduction of the text.

Complete in fifteen volumes, Let Dai stands out in a market flooded with one-shots and short series that can never achieve the same impact as an epic tale well told. Regardless of any complaints that can be made, this story is riveting from start to finish, visually appealing, and intricately crafted to please its target audience.

Digital access provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

One Thousand and One Nights, Vols. 1-6

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One Thousand and One Nights, Vols. 1-6 | By Han SeungHee and Jeon JinSeok | Published by Yen Press | Rated OT (16+) – Loosely based on the original tales told by Scheherazade to her mad Persian king, in this version of One Thousand and One Nights (originally published in English by ICE Kunion, later picked up by Yen Press), “Scheherazade” is a bookish young man named Sehara who has joined Sultan Shahryar’s harem in his sister’s place, in order to save her from being raped and beheaded like a string of young women before her. When Sehara’s gender is revealed, Shahryar has him thrown into a prison cell, where Sehara meets the long-imprisoned Emir Jafar, former friend and confidante of Shahryar, who tells him the story of how the sultan went mad after discovering his beloved queen Fatima’s infidelity. Shahryar banished Fatima, and soon after began the daily execution of virgins from his harem. As Jafar finishes his tale, Shahryar bursts into the cell, along with his bodyguard, Maseru, promising to have them both killed for mocking him. It is then that Sehara asks to be allowed to tell Shahryar a story, after which Shahryar may kill him as he pleases. After listening to the story, Shahryar brutally beats Sehara but does not execute him, and instead declares him a bard of the court, thus beginning the thousand and one nights.

Before becoming the court bard, Sehara made his living translating books from China, India, and Greece, so he draws his stories from many sources, telling tales of Turandot and Calaf, Cleopatra and Caesar, and Socrates and Alcibiades, as well as fairy-tales and fables well-known in many cultures, such as “The Angel and the Woodsman.” Each tale is told beautifully, if with questionable historical accuracy (the story of Cleopatra, for instance, portrays her in an unusually gentle light, particularly as concerns her relationship with her younger brother and husband, Ptolemy XIII), but more importantly, Sehara’s stories, and indeed Sehara himself, begin to teach Shahryar how to love again, rescuing him slowly from the madness that has overtaken him. Shahryar may believe himself merciful for allowing Sehara to live, but it is Sehara’s mercy that will ultimately save Shahryar. Eventually, Shahryar begins to realize this, finally confessing to Sehara in volume five, “Jafar protects me from sly politicians, and Maseru protects me from enemies and assassins. You, Sehara, protect me from myself.” Their relationship is reminiscent of that between Ash Lynx and Eiji Okamura in Akimi Yashida’s classic shojo manga, Banana Fish (though more overtly sexualized), as both stories feature a pure, open heart coming to the rescue of a man with too much blood on his hands.

Though One Thousand and One Nights is clearly a love story between Sehara and Shahryar, it is first and foremost a good story, raising it above the ranks of trite romance. The many stories-within-a-story told by Sehara provide endless variations on the theme of love, with much attention given to the cultural differences between each story’s place and time. Cleopatra, after all, was required to marry her own brother by law, a practice still accepted in Sehara’s Persia, while Socrates’ relationship with his male lover, Alcibiades, though commonplace in ancient Greece, would be reviled by Persian custom of Sehara’s day. Sehara’s stories are told with a melancholy beauty, dark and sweet, and emerging from one of them is much like waking from a deep, hazy dream. It is the overarching story, however, that provides the heart that makes this series special. Its primary characters are richly drawn and idiosyncratic, and their relationships with each other are complex and delicately nuanced. There is very little black-and-white in these characters’ lives, despite what they may think, and it is a pleasure to watch their stories unfold, even when they are their worst selves.

In older versions of this tale, though Sultan Shahryar was ruler of the Sassanid Empire, which pre-dates the Islamic conquest of Persia, the stories made frequent reference to the teachings of Islam. In One Thousand and One Nights, writer Jeon JinSoek draws Sehara’s stories from all over the world and from many different eras, while preserving the Islamic focus in the main story. Though JinSeok is careful to portray a balanced view of Islam, particularly as it concerns women, he does not shy away from the inherent sexism and brutality of the time period, in which a mad ruler may indiscriminately murder his female subjects, who he rightfully (by law of the time) considers to be his property. Women are second-class citizens in this world, and this is not something even Sehara can change. He strives gamely to break through Shahryar’s damaged heart and re-establish in him respect and compassion for women, but, as Shahryar reminds him early on, if his own sister had been discovered to not be a virgin, it would have been Sehara’s duty by law as her brother to behead her. Not that there aren’t consequences for Shahryar’s misogynistic behavior. He faces threats from both inside and outside his empire during the course of the story, and volume six ends with his rule (and Sehara’s life) in peril, mainly thanks to his own weaknesses and poor decisions. Ultimately, however, the story has less to say about sexism than it does about the corruptive power of absolute rule.

Despite the unattractive covers of these volumes (unfortunately carried over from the original ICE Kunion editions), each page of One Thousand and One Nights is a pleasure to behold. Han SeungHee’s artwork is intensely beautiful and drenched in romance, from the period settings to the thick strokes of the character’s eyelids. All the characters, both male and female, are lovely to look at, though many lack beauty on the inside, which is what this story is about. SeungHee captures the story’s lush sensuality and fiery drama perfectly, as well as the unexpected moments of humor which crop up with increasing frequency as the series goes on.

One Thousand and One Nights is a beautiful, compelling series that is pleasurable both to read and to look at. With at least five more volumes coming, it has the potential to become a classic of its kind, as long as it continues with the same strength JinSeok and SeungHee have displayed so far.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

One Thousand and One Nights, Vol. 7

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One Thousand and One Nights | By Han SeungHee and Jeon JinSeok | Published by Yen Press | Rated OT (16+) – Volume six ended with storyteller Sehara facing English invaders alone as Sultan Shahryar was lured away from Baghdad by his brother’s calculated betrayal. This volume picks up with Shahryar who races back to Baghdad to save the city (and Sehara) even though he must reveal an important secret to an enemy to do so—one that will threaten his own life from here forward. Meanwhile, Sehara does what he can to influence the invading king by telling him a story from the future about another western power invading Muslim land to “liberate” its people from a tyrant.

Any existing pretense of a linear timeline is thrown away completely in this volume and though this is a bit jarring at first, the payoff is substantial. This is also the first overtly political volume in the series, and though the rhetoric is simplistic and far from new (“Christians and Muslims differ in language and culture,” Sehara says, leading into his story, “but we call the same God by a different name and go to war over it.”), Sehara’s true message is clear. It is not the innocent who profit when countries go to war, though it is they who bear the heaviest burden and suffer the greatest loss.

This volume’s modern story is moving and well told, just as all of Sehara’s tales have been, though with so much momentum having built up in the primary storyline it is hard not to feel impatient by the time the volume approaches its end. The end itself, however, is wonderfully heart-wrenching and perfectly crafted to make the wait for the next volume excruciating for us all.

With its gorgeous art, fantastic storytelling, and emotional (and now political) resonance, One Thousand and One Nights continues to be a manhwa series well worth recommending.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock

Pig Bride, Vol. 1

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Pig Bride, Vol. 1 | By KookHwa Huh and SuJin Kim | Published by Yen Press | Rated Teen – Si-Joon is the spoiled son of a wealthy politician and his heiress wife, who, after torturing all the chickens at his summer camp, gets lost in the woods where he encounters a young girl wearing a pig mask. As though in a dream, he finds himself at the girl’s house, where he is enticed by a tableful of delicious food into agreeing to marriage with the girl, Mu-Yeon, despite the fact that he is only eight years old. A sudden attack prompts the girl to send Si-Joon back to where he came from, but not before she makes a promise to find him on his sixteenth birthday in order to consummate the marriage.

Jumping forward eight years, Si-Joon’s sixteenth birthday approaches, and fortunately he has grown up be be slightly less obnoxious than he was as a child. With his good looks and wealthy background, he is pursued relentlessly by the girls at his elite private school, leading him to declare that he dislikes strong women. Instead Si-Joon has his eye on demure Doe-Doe Eun, a blushing member of the school’s cross-stitch club who organizes a lavish birthday party for him. Convinced that the memory of his child bride in a pig mask is nothing more than a recurring dream, Si-Joon is shocked when, on the stroke of midnight as he turns sixteen, his now grown-up bride appears in his dormitory bedroom, ready to do the deed. With help from his best friend and roommate, Ji-Oh, Si-Joon manages to keep his dreaded fate temporarily at bay, but it soon becomes clear that not only can Mu-Yeon not be ignored, but that she may actually be protecting him from some greater horror—perhaps even death.

It’s difficult to see just where Pig Bride is going at this point, but though its first volume is a bit scattered and more than a bit confusing, there is a lot of potential to be found. Si-Joon’s character is maddening and sympathetic all at once. Seen obviously as a commodity by the girls he knows (as explained cooly to him by Ji-Oh, who points out that even if he never does anything with his own life, he’s still valuable for his connections and inheritance), he is easily taken in by sweet, ladylike Doe-Doe, whose unassuming manners are only a front for her real personality (ruthless, controlling psychobitch). It’s hard to feel too sorry for him when his desires are so shallow—after all, despite his talk, he fails to value the same girlish modesty in his potentially unattractive masked bride—though obviously raised by his parents at a distance, it’s not hard to see how he turned out that way.

Not that Mu-Yeon is necessarily a catch, either. Though she’s obviously doting and eager to protect him, she apparently thinks nothing of stalking Si-Joon or putting him to sleep with hallucinogenic drugs. As much a product of her strange, twisted upbringing as Si-Joon is of his, perhaps the real story here will be about both of them learning to be stronger, truer versions of themselves who can one day break free of the rigid, superstitious world they’ve been forced to be a part of.

One particularly interesting supporting character is Si-Joon’s friend, Ji-Oh. As the only character truly able to hit conniving Doe-Doe where it hurts (by stating that he does not dislike her, but simply has no interest) it’s hard not to love him, though he’s a complete cold fish around everyone other than Mu-Yeon, with whom he seems to really hit it off. One of the most charming scenes in the entire volume is one in which Ji-Oh reveals an unexpected gentle side while showing Mu-Yeon how to use the internet. On the other hand, a character who should be intriguing but so far is not, is Mu-Yeon’s sister, Mu-Hwa, a warrior with the power to exorcise spirits with her (possibly stolen) sword. Serving as the protector of both her sister and Si-Joon, her cold demeanor betrays no actual personality at this point.

Though the story in this volume is somewhat muddled, the visual storytelling is not. The art is clean, lovely, and easy to follow, with a nicely restrained use of elaborate backgrounds and imaginative panel layouts. The character designs are pretty, distinct, and occasionally even creepy, as with Mu-Yeon’s eternally smiling mask. The overall look is undeniably “manhwa”—a draw for some and a turn-off for others.

Attractive, mysterious, and above all, odd, Pig Bride is definitely worth a try.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock