Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews
I thought the storm would be over by the time I got up this morning, but it’s snowing still! Not as hard as it was yesterday, but enough so that we’re going to have to shovel for a third time.
I’ll get back to talking about manga soon, but for the moment, check out snow photos after the jump!
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Today started out in a bit of a whirlwind, as I got up early to get into work by 7:00 AM, so that I could finish up all my pre-vacation business before getting hit by the 6-12 inches of snow coming our way. I then raced home to beat the storm, and now here I am, hatches battened, watching the snow come down. *whew*
We have a new roundtable discussion posted over at Manga Recon, where we discuss the canceled/indefinitely postponed series we would most love to see rescued! My personal choices were Yotsuba&! and the Kino no Tabi light novels, but there are a lot of amazing titles mentioned.
Other than that, I expect I’ll be shoveling snow for the rest of my life, but my vacation has started, and I’m feeling quite giddy! Happy Holidays, everyone!
Hitohira, Vol. 1
By Idumi Kirihara
Aurora Publishing, 192 pp.
Rating: T (13+)
Hitohira is the story of a painfully shy high school freshman, Mugi Asai, who becomes invariably tongue-tied when faced with speaking in front of other people, though she otherwise possesses an unusually powerful voice. Having let out her true voice in her excitement over being accepted to the Kumataka Art Academy, Mugi is discovered and pursued by the director of the school’s theater club, who later coerces her to join. Mugi soon learns that the club she has joined is not, in fact, the school’s official theater club, but rather the tiny “Theater Research Group” which is struggling for survival. Though she quickly realizes her mistake in joining a club dedicated to public performance, without Mugi, the club does not have enough members to continue, so she ultimately gives in to peer pressure and remains in the club.
Though much of the first volume is spent introducing the characters and their relationships with each other, it is clear where the story is headed. Mugi’s involvement in the theater club will help her overcome her fears and become the confident young woman she has the potential to be. Nono, the club’s director, tells Mugi very earnestly that she believes that one day Mugi will look back and be glad that she joined the theater club. Mugi certainly has not reached that point by the end of the first volume, but she does enjoy the other members of the club (especially Nono), and it’s obvious that she’s taken a first step toward defeating her social anxiety. The other major plot point we’re introduced to in this volume is Nono’s struggle with vocal chord paralysis, which threatens her future as an actress. It is Nono’s decision to keep acting in the face of her ailment that was responsible for the split between the members of the Theater Research Group and the school’s official theater club, which is headed up by Nono’s former best friend, Mirei.
Despite the characters’ proclaimed devotion to theater, Hitohira does not delve into the subject with much passion, or even much apparent knowledge. One of the things that drives Mugi forward is her desire to understand why Nono and the others love theater as they do. She ponders often over the “magic” of theater, wishing that she could experience it herself. It will be interesting to see whether, over the course of the series, Idumi Kirihara can effectively portray that magic, both to Mugi and the reader, but for now, theater in Hitohira feels more like cold theory. It almost seems, at times, as if Kirihara is avoiding the subject. For instance, much is made of the Theater Research Group’s brutal rehearsal schedule, but though there are a few chapters in which the club members are seen practicing physical exercises or improvisation, very little is shown of the rehearsals for their first play of the year, which makes its performance midway through the volume seem very much out-of-the-blue.
That said, the story’s lack of onstage drama is more than made up for offstage. Relationships are key in this character-driven series, and there are plenty of them to explore. The dynamic within the Theater Research Group is quite interesting. Club members follow Nono’s direction without question, despite her often harsh demands. Their loyalty seems to be due, at least in part, to events surrounding their split from the main theater group, but only a few details of that are revealed in this volume. The most compelling relationships in the story, however, are between Mugi and Nono (who have an obvious rapport, including a bit of a girl crush on Mugi’s part), and Nono and former friend Mirei. Despite their falling-out, Mirei clearly still cares for Nono a great deal, and at one point, after realizing that Nono and Mugi are becoming close, asks Mugi to “please take good care of her.”
The relationships make Hitohira intriguing, but the first volume drags in places and feels fragmented in others, as though bits of chapters were torn out of the book. Mugi’s first appearance onstage comes up with little warning, and then is barely spoken of again afterward. In another chapter, the two rival theater clubs make a bet regarding the mid-term scores of the Theater Research Group members. Just as the scores are posted, one of the members takes off with the score sheet, leading to a half-hearted chase, after which the matter is dropped completely. That chapter is a misstep all around, as the series’ earnest tone doesn’t lend itself well to spirited tales of student hijinks, and Kirihara isn’t particularly strong with humor (further demonstrated by the flat omake pages at the end of the volume).
Aurora Publishing is marketing Hitohira as shojo, despite the fact that it runs in seinen magazine Comic High! in Japan, which is a somewhat confusing move. Though Mugi’s personal journey could certainly be relatable for many shy young girls, the moe fan service is pretty blatant, and definitely geared toward male readers. There’s nothing extremely offensive to girls in Hitohira (though it is a bit distressing that the protagonist’s vision of a “confident” female is a cheerleader) but this classification is definitely misleading. Fan service aside, Kirihara’s art is pleasant (if a bit plain), though some of the girls look so much alike, they can only really be distinguished by the style of their hair.
Hitohira has some nice moments and strong chemistry between characters, but the storytelling is too uneven to be truly compelling. Perhaps a stronger second volume (due out December 29th) will give the series more solid footing.
Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.
From the back cover:
Ever since she entered the school El Liston, Keito’s life has begun to change. Recovering from social withdrawal, she has made friends for the first time in seven years. There’s Rei, a formerly famous soccer player; Kouichi, a genius with an IQ of 200; and Momiji, a Gothic Lolita. As she slowly starts building new relationships with people, she begins to develop a little passion, and then… ?!
Review:
I’d praised Cat Street last time because the focus was not on romance, and just as I was thinking, “Well, maybe a little would be good,” Keito realized that she had feelings for her childhood friend, Taiyou. How it played out was quite different from other shoujo I’ve read.
Taiyou is an interesting character. Rather than allow Keito’s friend Rei, who used to be a phenomenal soccer player, to wallow in his past failures, he keeps engaging him on the topic and eventually helps him return to the sport he loves. Keito realizes he did the same with her while she was a shut-in, visiting her house frequently to try to get her to come back to school. So, essentially, she begins to like him because he is a good person, not because he is hot.
Even better, all of Keito’s new friends begin to support her in her efforts to get together with Taiyou. This isn’t limited to Momiji, the girl; the boys who would also be after Keito in most other series are also encouraging and helping her in her efforts. Alas, it turns out Taiyou has recently begun dating one of his classmates. In a completely awesome example of showing not telling, a weeping Keito encounters this girl, Hirano-san, who proves how like Taiyou she is by refusing to leave Keito alone, comforting her, and even crying on her behalf. I love that the romantic rival is not some evil wench, but also a thoroughly nice and good person.
Less successful is a subplot in which Keito’s old theatrical rival engages the help of a student studying cosmetology at El Liston to get a photograph of Keito, which he accomplishes by giving her a makeover and claiming he wants to save images of his work. Pretty smooth. It’s sad, though, that the nudging he gave Keito about returning to the acting world seems only to’ve been so the rival could face her in that realm once more and achieve a proper victory over her.
Cat Street is a very enjoyable series so far; I love that the heroine has a network of supportive friends. I guess it’s inevitable that Keito will return to the world of acting, but I hope the story won’t drift into silly confrontations with overly-devious foes.
Rara is a demon who has come to the mortal world for the first time. She’d told everyone back home that her goal was to drag human souls into darkness, but really she just wants to meet the celebrity demon du jour, Hiroshi Akusawa, and become his girlfriend. When a dashing boy called Aku saves her from falling off a building, she’s convinced she’s met Akusawa. That is, until she meets the real Akusawa, who is not at all dreamy, and realizes that the other boy is a mere human.
It’d be easy for Rara to claim Aku’s heart using magic, but she wants him to fall in love with her for real. Some of her female classmates (yes, the younger demons all attend high school) advise against pursuing him, claiming that he is weird (on account of having been abducted by aliens) and gay (on account of having been spotted hugging his best friend). Rara, undaunted and clueless, decides that donning a boy’s uniform is the way to win his love, leading to my favorite line of the volume:
I don’t care if he is a gay alien. Once he gets a look at me in this, his heart will be mine.
Rara is warned several times not to use her magic to benefit a human, but as she gets closer to Aku, she can’t help lending him a hand when he could use it, like when his ability to see spirits results in him being pestered by wayward souls. As a result, she begins to lose her demon powers, which include things like invisibility and flight, and faces punishment for her actions from her demon brethren.
The concept is fairly unique, but Rara is still more or less your traditional clumsy, not-too-bright shojo heroine who somehow manages to make the hottest guy in school fall for her. Add to that the clichés of the boy who can see spirits and the old “trip and smooch” maneuver, and it winds up being pretty well-trod territory after all.
Still, while Gaba Kawa may be fluffy and familiar, it’s also pretty fun. I’m inspired to check out more by its creator.
Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.
If there’s one thing notorious criminal Zen can’t stand, it’s being controlled. At the end of the first volume, while he and his doctor companion, Hyakka, were liberating Amatan prisoners from a Galay Army facility, he fell into an involuntary trance after which he awoke with no memory of his violent actions. Now, he resolves to find the person responsible, which means finally getting some answers about his forgotten past.
Said answers are gradually revealed throughout the volume, and manage to be interesting but more or less what I had expected. Perhaps that’s why this volume, like its predecessor, was a little difficult to get into at first. Also, one major revelation that I hadn’t seen coming was telegraphed in advance. Alert readers get suspicious when you only show us parts of someone’s face, you know!
That said, I have to admire the economy of the storytelling—no extraneous information is offered nor is any essential detail lacking—as well as the way the series ends. Aspects of the climactic conclusion are melodramatic, but I like that we actually end up rooting for Zen, even after witnessing the evil of which he is capable.
Blank Slate presents an entertaining and thought-provoking story, even if the execution stumbles here and there. And at two volumes, it’s short and affordable. An afternoon spent on this series would not be wasted.
Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.
Minami Fujii works in the planning department of an advertising agency. At twenty-eight, she’s still trying to make a name for herself and is known for pulling all-nighters and juggling multiple projects. Mostly, this can be attributed to genuine dedication, though Minami also uses work as a distraction from her turbulent romantic life.
After her boyfriend of seven years breaks up with her and promptly gets married, Minami begins to notice the people around her and makes friends with some of her coworkers. Two of the men are interested in her and, after briefly being tempted by the impulsive Ishida, she ends up choosing Ogi-san, who is still hung up on his ex. After agonizing periods during which she’s convinced that he isn’t interested in her (even though they’ve slept together), they begin officially dating, though things are not as perfect as either would’ve wished. Minami still feels strangely lonely in Ogi-san’s company and the presence of his ex (with whom Minami must work on a project) makes it difficult to be sure of his feelings.
Meanwhile, the rejected Ishida is pursued by another coworker whose plight parallels Minami’s own. Add to this a saucy freelancer, the married producer with whom she’s having an affair, and his lascivious cameraman with an appreciation for Minami’s posterior, and you get quite a tangled web of workplace relationships, infidelity, unhappiness, and insecurity.
This might seem too convoluted to follow, but it’s not really a problem. The focus is primarily on Minami, but does shift at times to the other women characters and their situations. I appreciated seeing what they thought and said about the protagonist, too, particularly the difference between what they were thinking inwardly and what they were actually saying to her face. Another female character of note is the forty-something Hirano, who presents Minami with an example of a woman who has devoted her life to her work and yet has nothing to show for it. Just before being unceremoniously transferred, Hirano gives Minami all the credit for a daring decision, attempting to give a leg up to the girl in whom she sees so much of herself. It’s a truly wonderful moment.
Alas, not all of the workplace action is so terrific. Minami’s many projects are virtually indistinguishable, and the scenes involving them include vague dialogue like, “Let’s feature the product here.” It’d be easier to care about what was going on if more details of a particular project were known, or if one actually succeeded in getting to the commercial production phase. Most of them get derailed by rewrite requests, and it’s frustrating to never see any of Minami’s harried efforts come to fruition. Also, in this office it’s apparently acceptable to skip out on meetings for projects to which you’ve been assigned. Must be nice!
As Katherine pointed out in her review of volume one, the art can be symbolism heavy at times. Women out to snare their men are shown carrying hunting traps, for example, and when Minami is sleeping with Ogi-san, there’s often water nearby, threatening to cover and drown her, much like the welter of feelings she’s experiencing.
I do like a lot of the workplace art, though, particularly how Minami’s scattered thoughts are portrayed. Often, panels of her in work mode are mixed with what is distracting her, like the messy state of her book-strewn desk or memories of an intimate moment with Ogi-san, and sometimes she walks about conducting business while thought bubbles going “jumble jumble” accompany her around. When Minami gets especially frazzled, the art reminds me of Chica Umino’s (Honey and Clover), with scribbly eyes and flailing limbs.
The third volume concludes with Minami and Ogi-san sharing an impromptu casual meal, during which she confides in him her work-related fatigue and finally allows herself to lean on him for support. Not realizing at the time, as the retrospective narration points out, that it was a mistake.
And that’s it! That’s where we will forever languish unless TOKYOPOP resumes publication of this series. Please join us at Manga Recon as we cry, “Save Suppli!”
Review originally published at Manga Recon.
The Voices of a Distant Star
Adapted by Mizu Sahara
Original concept by Makoto Shinkai
Published by TOKYOPOP
Rated T (13+)
Based on Makoto Shinkai’s short film, The Voices of a Distant Star is a story of two young people separated by space and, more importantly, time. As the people of Earth carry on an intergalactic war with a technologically advanced alien race, fifteen-year-old Mikako is called into service on the U.N. spacecraft, Lysithea. She leaves behind her childhood friend, Noboru, just before they would have entered high school together, and right at the age when their friendship is on the brink of deepening into something more. Their sole means of communication is low-priority electronic mail using their cell phones, and as Mikako travels light years away the time it takes for their messages to be delivered increases, reaching over eight years for a single delivery before the story’s end.
Over the course of the story, Noboru grows to adulthood on his own while Mikako remains a teenager, her middle-school days barely behind her. As Mikako’s messages begin to arrive farther and farther apart, Noboru first tries to free himself from his doomed attachment, but he eventually abandons this in favor of working toward an opportunity to join the rescue party being sent out after Mikako’s ship, in hopes of reuniting with her.
Voices of a Distant Star was Makoto Shinkai’s first work released after his award-winning five-minute short, She and Her Cat. Created entirely on his home computer, it was completed in 2002. Its themes of loneliness and separation, revisited often in his later work, are perhaps most stunningly portrayed in this short film. While the film was focused tightly, even narrowly, on the two main characters, for the manga adaptation Mizu Sahara adds some additional context to each of their lives, introducing us to two shipmates of Mikako’s, as well as some friends (and even a short-lived girlfriend) of Noboru’s back on Earth.
The effect of this is twofold. On one hand, it is gratifying to see Mikako discovering kindred spirits on her journey. On the other hand, it becomes even more clear just how cruel the situation is. Both are affected, but especially Noboru, who is so firmly attached to Mikako that he is unable to connect with anyone in his present life, which, unlike Mikako’s, is rapidly passing him by. At one point in the manga, after more than a year with no messages from Mikako, Noboru begins to form an attraction to a girl in his class, but just as he might have finally broken free and allowed himself to live in the present (his present), a message finally arrives. This is incredibly romantic from a certain point of view, of course, but from another it is simply horrifying, demonstrating clearly just how destructive and hurtful a relationship like this might be. It is also good storytelling, and it’s impressive that a manga adaptation of such a moving film is able to achieve even greater effect here than the original. The idea that two people, each acting out of sincere love for the other, can still end up hurting one another terribly is one of those unfortunate truths of life that most people would prefer to ignore. Mizu Sahara makes that impossible here.
One difference in the adaptation that is less effective is the way Sahara handles the ending. In the film, the futures of both Noboru and Mikako are left unresolved, with Mikako fighting to save her comrades, and Noboru heading off to unspecified Armada duty. There is hope that they might meet again one day, reinforced by a vision Mikako has just before her squadron falls under attack, but both characters seem to have come to terms with the uncertainty of that hope. The manga, however, works very hard to bring them back together, sending Noboru off on a mission to rescue the survivors of Mikako’s last battle. The film ends with Mikako and Noboru, light years apart, each sending the same mental message to each other, “I am here,” to which the manga adds, “… Because we are destined to meet again.”
Again, this is a very romantic notion, but not as powerful, or even as conclusive as the open ending of the film. There was a kind of comfort in knowing that both characters had finally embraced their own lives and come to a place where simply understanding that the other was out there was enough, at least for the moment. In pandering to the reader’s (and perhaps her own) desire to bring the characters back together, Mizu Sahara has created an ending that is weaker and less satisfying.
That said, the manga is absolutely beautiful. The art is nicely detailed and very expressive, and the panel layouts, including the placement and style of dialogue and narrative text, make the story visually interesting and easy to follow. The additional material adds more layers to the relationship between the two main characters, like the scenario in which Noboru attempts to repair a favorite hair clip of Mikako’s, forced finally into giving up and buying her a new one to hide his failure. There is an extremely touching moment later where he admits this to Mikako (which of course, she’s known all along) that is very nicely written. Sahara also spends more time exploring both Mikako’s and Noboru’s feelings about Mikako’s appointment to the Lysithea, which is very revealing for both characters.
Regardless of the manga’s differences from its source material (both weak and strong), as a standalone piece, Mizu Sahara’s The Voices of a Distant Star is ultimately successful in telling a thoughtful, heart-wrenching story that is both visually and narratively appealing.
Review originally published at PopCultureShock.
Claymore, Vol. 13
By Norihiro Yagi
Published by Viz
Rated T+ (Older Teen)
Volume twelve brought us into a new era in the Claymore universe by moving ahead seven years, solving the mystery of the warriors who vanished in the Battle of the North, and introducing us to a new generation of Claymores.
As volume thirteen opens, rebel warriors Clare, Miria, Helen, and Deneve rescue a young team of Claymores just as they are about to be destroyed by powerful Awakened One, Riful of the West. Before escaping, Clare persuades Riful to share some of what they’ve missed in the world during their years in hiding, including some new revelations regarding the long sought-after Priscilla.
We also catch up with new number 47, Clarice, who is being sent on a mission to eliminate former number 3 Galatea with her new partner, the terrifying and very young Miata, whose disturbing psychological issues and deadly abilities make Ophelia seem like a walk in the park.
The battles feel like background in this volume, which instead focuses heavily on plot and characterization, making it a particularly compelling read and moving the story along substantially. There is a fantastic chapter for those of us who are fans of Teresa, and some additional background on Miria as well.
I’m always impressed by how easily Norihiro Yago is able to create such distinct characters when most all of them are women with uniform physical features (not to mention actual uniforms), and my admiration only increases as the web of characters becomes more complex.
Plenty of mystery remains, especially in light of the recent jump forward in time, including the fate of Raki, who does not even make an appearance. Even so, the pacing feels just right, and the story never drags as it sometimes did earlier on.
This is an exceptionally strong volume in a series that has grown consistently more interesting over the course of its run.
Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.
When I was in the sixth grade, a particular series of books was very popular. It focused on a pair of blonde twin sisters, the older of whom was kind and thoughtful while the younger was selfish and scheming. Most of the time, the good twin allowed her conniving sibling to have her way, but when it came to a certain boy, she drew the line. Their names were Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield and the series was named after the school they attended, Sweet Valley High.
I mention this because the initial setup for Papillon is pretty similar. Ageha, a shy and bespectacled nobody, and her younger sister Hana, the most popular girl in school, are blonde twins who were raised by different relatives. The only person Ageha feels understands her is a boy named Ryûsei, and when Hana sees them growing closer she moves in to snag Ryûsei for herself. With some encouragement from a decidedly unorthodox guidance counselor, Ageha makes an effort to shed her meek persona and win Ryûsei back. (Her name means “butterfly.” Get it?)
While the concept may not be new, Hana and Ageha’s relationship is still fascinating. Somehow, the masterfully manipulative way in which Hana competes against her sister is more credible for occurring between siblings and hints at all kinds of intriguing psychological baggage. The relationship gives the character depth, as it seems she must have some deeper motivation for her actions than your garden variety Mean Girl. Similarly, Ageha’s powerlessness in the face of her sister’s devious ways also rings true. In the back of the book, Ueda-sensei thanks some relationship therapists for their input and advice; I’d say it definitely paid off.
Unfortunately, Ryûsei is not as well developed. He’s a typical adolescent boy: good-hearted in general but vulnerable when a pretty girl turns on the charm. Arguably, though, he was never meant to be more than a bone of contention between the girls and a catalyst for Ageha’s metamorphosis. The most vivid supporting character is actually Kanda, Ageha’s chubby pal, who betrays her friend when she sees an opportunity to gain attention from the more popular students, a classic maneuver among status-conscious high school girls.
While the term “soap opera” would certainly apply to Papillon, it also offers an insightful look at the relationships between girls. For that alone, this title is one that I will be following with interest.
Papillon is published by Del Rey. Five volumes have been released in Japan so far while the second English release is due in late January 2009.
Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.
Thanks to the gift of leftovers, we’re on our third day of my mother-in-law’s turkey and stuffing, which is a wonderful thing but seems to have settled me into a permanent turkey coma. I must free myself somehow by Monday. But, hey, that’s far, far in the future! For now, I’ll enjoy perpetual sleepiness and let all of you who just met me find out how sappy I get around this time of year. It’s a thing.
I said earlier this week that I’d leave “major items” for thanking later in the week, and later in the week has more than arrived! Actually, most of my “major items” are personal (family, friends, etc.) and this isn’t really the place for that. What remains though is still pretty major, at least to me.
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Book description:
Keito Aoyama was a child star until the age of nine, when she froze up on stage in front of a live audience. The incident ended her career, and she’s spent the past seven years a recluse, spending most of the time in her room and socializing with no one. An encounter with an eccentric principal leads her to El Liston, a school for kids who haven’t fit in at other high schools. Could this be what Keito needs to begin truly living again?
Review:
This series is interesting, but since this volume was mostly set up, probably much of the good stuff is yet to come.
Keito is very socially awkward to start with, and ends up insulting a couple of people and running away from them, just like she’s essentially been running away from life for seven years. She’s a sympathetic character, kind of complex and difficult, but her search for direction is compelling. She encounters a former grade school classmate and the fact that he’s still striving for his childhood dream makes her question what it is that she really wants to do. Though she’s initially reluctant to attend such a “weird facility,” she eventually decides to give El Liston a try.
The El Liston setting is pretty neat. Most of the kids there are doing independent study of some kind, though there are teachers on hand to help when needed. The students are free to pursue their interests, be they computer programming or fashion design. The students that Keito meets are already shaping up to be unique and interesting characters and I look forward to seeing Keito flourish in that environment. Of particular note is Kouichi, a manga character who actually looks Asian!
Too, I like that the focus is on Keito’s search for a purpose in life and not on romance. To be sure, there are a few prospects in that regard, but her thoughts are running more toward self-improvement than smooching. Cat Street definitely has the potential to be something great, and I’ll be continuing with it.
Things are going well here in Salt Lake City. We’ve seen some terrific actors, and the weather has been perfect for exploring the town. Yesterday, as planned, I headed over to Night Flight Comics in Library Square. It’s an awesome little store in a great location, right next to the public library, along with a group of other stores and a cafe.
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I’d waited so eagerly for this volume, and here I am almost a month late with it. I suppose I can’t complain, though, as it’s the perfect reading for a stormy Saturday morning.
Fullmetal Alchemist is one of those series where every volume brings amazing new revelations, yet it is so well-plotted, none of this ever feels melodramatic or forced. I am constantly impressed with depth and detail of Hiromu Arakawa’s planning for this story, compounded by her deft execution of it. I know that FMA is a popular manga, but I often feel that in spite of (because of?) that, or perhaps because it is a shonen manga, Arakawa does not get the recognition she deserves for being a seriously fantastic storyteller. The release schedule for FMA in the US leaves long gaps between volumes, and I tend to get caught up in other things in-between. But every time a new volume comes out, I’m reminded immediately of why I’ve often said this is my favorite manga series.
Brigid Alverson is giving away sets of Vertical’s new edition of Osamu Tezuka’s Black Jack to a few lucky winners who will be randomly chosen from her blog. To enter, leave a comment in this entry, telling her about your favorite new manga in 2008. I left my own comment there yesterday, and as I was trying to figure out just what my favorite new manga from 2008 was, I realized that the answer is probably one I haven’t posted about here yet at all.
It was actually a pretty difficult answer for me to come up with, mainly because all the manga I’ve become really obsessed with in 2008 have been either older series, or current series that are still being released, but which began publication in English well before this year. In fact, I realized sadly that I have read almost nothing genuinely new this year. Still, as I poked through the books on my shelf, one new manga jumped right out at me. That would be Est Em’s Seduce Me After the Show, published in Japan in 2006, and released by Deux Press in English in May of this year.
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