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Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, Vol. 4

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zetsubou4By Koji Kumeta
Del Rey, 192 pp.
Rating: OT (16+)

Suicidal schoolteacher Nozomu Itoshiki (Zetsubou-sensei) and his students are back, with a satirical take on such topics as Christmas, leftovers, societal hierarchies, cooling-off periods, second opinions, and how to deal with dead space. Even exam students are taken to task in this volume, as Zetsubou-sensei despairs over their ability to get away with nearly anything–a privilege he attempts to recapture for himself by engaging in a series of increasingly ridiculous certification programs. Easily passing tests for certifications in flower arrangement and animal breeding (and scraping by in subjects like “love”), he finds himself ultimately unqualified for either “life” or “death” (a certification that requires numerous sub-licenses, such as “writing a suicide note” and “how to leave your shoes”), leaving him trapped ever further in despair.

Since this series has been dismissed by some as relying too heavily on inside jokes and obscure cultural references to be effective with North American readers, it is important to note that volume four is easily the most accessible in the series so far, requiring very few trips to the translator’s notes provided in the back (and virtually none for readers familiar with Japanese manzai characters—the only cultural reference in this volume absolutely required for the understanding of an entire chapter). Smooth reading facilitates smooth comedy, making this volume more universally hilarious than its predecessors as well. For those who have loved this series from the beginning, volume four is yet another fabulous treat provided by tireless translator/adapter Joyce Aurino and the folks at Del Rey Manga. For those who have yet to warm to the series’ charms, perhaps this is the place to start.

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

Ciao Ciao Bambino by Momoko Tenzen: B

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ciaociaobambinoI think I must be a Momoko Tenzen fan, because this is the second time I’ve been impressed by her ability to create compelling characters in a short story format (the first being Unsophisticated and Rude). Not only that, she’s able to write stories about romance between middle schoolers and teachers that aren’t completely icky (only mildly icky).

There are five stories in this volume, though the first four focus on the same set of characters: Kaname, a lecturer at a cram school; Yuuta, Kaname’s student, seven years his junior; and Kei and Mako, friends of Yuuta’s who have feelings for each other. What I liked about these stories is that Kaname and Yuuta take several years to get to a point where love is openly discussed, and although Yuuta is still too young (in my opinion) when they finally sleep together, his character is developed enough that it’s clear he’s not being taken advantage of by an adult in position of authority.

The fifth story, “Brand New Wednesday,” is about a tall kid named Kana—and seriously, both he and Yuuta must attend one of the junior highs from Prince of Tennis, because they’re far bigger than any ninth graders I’ve known—who is in love with his home tutor. I found the tutor’s perspective especially poignant here, as he realizes how fragile a love like this can be when the younger person has so much changing left to do in their life.

I admit to feeling a little guilty that I liked these stories as much as I did, given their subject matter, but Tenzen’s approach is not salacious whatsoever. If you can get past the squick factor, these stories do offer some truly touching moments.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

Serenity 1: Those Left Behind by Whedon, Matthews, and Conrad: B+

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serenity1From the back cover:
Here’s how it is—in a universe filled with hearts and minds as cold and dark as the reaches of space, one small Firefly-class starship named Serenity takes its ragtag crew of mercenaries, outlaws, and fugitives in search of a job, any job, that’ll earn them enough cash to afford that most elusive commodity—peace.

Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, unveils a previously unknown chapter in the lives of his favorite band of space brigands in this prequel to the Serenity feature film—the blockbuster follow-up to Whedon’s cult-hit TV show, Firefly.

Review:
Serenity: Those Left Behind takes place shortly after the final episode of Firefly, “Objects in Space.” Inara has not left yet; while the ship is en route to her destination, they’re taking jobs along the way and though Mal proclaims this is necessary it’s Wash, who’s well acquainted with doing stupid things (like working a dangerous job when he could make a cushy living) to remain near the woman he loves, who realizes that he’s just trying to keep her around a while longer.

After one such job, a bank heist, goes poorly, the crew is offered another job by Badger: to retrieve a stash of cash left at the scene of one of the bloodiest battles in the war. Meanwhile, Dobson (the federal agent who appeared in the first episode of the series) is teaming up with the hands-of-blue fellows to track them down. It’s unclear whether Badger is in on this or not, but it all boils down to an ambush in a field of spaceship debris, no payoff, and Dobson’s death. Too, in the final page, we seem to be witnessing the moment that the Operative (from the feature film) receives the assignment to bring in River. Another important thing that happens here is that Book decides he needs to leave the ship. He’s an active participant in helping the crew escape at one point and later hits Mal, something that the Captain is ready to forgive but which Book is not.

For the most part, Will Conrad’s art is decent. In some panels, the characters don’t look much like the actors who played them—Simon and Inara fare pretty poorly in this respect—but Conrad is an absolute ace at close-ups. There’ll be a page, for example, with a vaguely Kaylee-looking person in a few panels and then, once you zoom into her face, it’s “Oh, now she looks like Jewel Staite!” This happens with Mal a few times, too, and there are also a few outstanding close-ups of River. Different artists have also contributed some color portraits of members of the crew. Again, Simon and Inara get the short end of the stick—are their actors just too pretty to be drawn easily or well?—while Book (drawn by Tim Bradstreet), Jayne (Brian Hitch), and Wash (Sean Phillips) look fabulous! Honorable mention goes to Jo Chen’s Kaylee who, while she doesn’t really look like Jewel Staite, is positively adorable.

All in all, while this isn’t as good or as fulfilling as an episode of the show, it’s really great to see all of these characters again and fill in a little background for where we see them in the movie. Now on to the second comic miniseries, Better Days!

not simple by Natsume Ono: A

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notsimpleFrom the back cover:
A story within a story,
A book within a book,
A tale about the search for family,
For an emotional home.

Ian, a young man with a fractured family history, travels from Australia to England to America in the hope of realizing his dreams and reuniting with his beloved sister. His story unfolds backwards through the framing narrative of Jim, a reporter driven to capture Ian’s experiences in a novel: not simple.

Review:
I normally reserve my comments about a comic’s art for somewhere near the end of my review, but since the fact that Natsume Ono’s style deviates from the manga norm is glaringly obvious, I thought I’d address it first. Her art is spare and kind of squiggly, true, and yet it’s absolutely perfect, adding to rather than detracting from the narrative. I honestly cannot imagine this heartbreaking story being illustrated in any other way; to pair it with pretty art would be too wrong for words, so don’t let the lack of same be a deterrent.

If you, like me, have ever thought, “Why don’t more stories have sad endings?” then not simple is the manga for you. That’s not even a spoiler, really, since the structure of the story reveals the fate of Ian, the hapless protagonist, practically immediately. The book begins with a conversation between Jim, a writer, and Ian, in which Jim announces, “You’re going to be my next novel.” From there, a prologue depicts the end of Ian’s story, in which he is a drifter looking to keep a rendezvous with a woman he met years earlier, before shifting back in time to chronologically cover his life from childhood until the moment he leaves for the meeting.

The hardships and misfortunes of Ian’s existence are beyond many, and just when you think it couldn’t get worse, it does. Growing up in Australia as the child of a drunken mother and absentee father, he’s extremely close to his sister, Kylie. When Kylie is sent to prison for robbery—her means for funding a new life with Ian by her side—he’s left alone at home, and after his parents divorce, ends up living in London with his mother. Upon her release, Kylie finds him there and they have the briefest of brief reunions before she sends him back to Melbourne to be with his dad and promises that they’ll meet again once he achieves his dream.

Years pass. Ian has always loved running, and his dream is to break a certain runner’s record. He and Jim originally met when Jim was assigned to interview him, and they reconnect when Ian’s peculiarly jubilant response to placing fourth in a race attracts the notice of Jim’s editor. Ian, having achieved his goal, now feels free to seek out his sister. His search is long and disappointing, hindered by a series of terribly unlucky near-misses and a set of relatives that don’t care much about Kylie or Ian, let alone helping them achieve a reunion.

If this sounds like just about the most depressing story around, that isn’t far off the mark. And yet, it never strays into implausible territory. Ian is a likable guy—a strangely pure and innocent person who is, simultaneously, somewhat of an enigma—but the stresses of his life begin to take their toll and the final time he shows up at Jim’s place, after an absence of two years, the change is palpable. For years, he’s been matter-of-fact about the horrible things that have happened to him, but finally is so worn down that he’s become haggard and yearns only for the warm personal relationships that have been denied him. Jim’s an interesting observer, as well, ignoring his own family about as strenuously as Ian searches for his. If there’s anything I could complain about with not simple, it’s that we don’t learn more about Jim’s particular circumstances.

Depressing or not, not simple is masterfully told and completely unforgettable. If I had to sum it up in one word it would be this: haunting.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Bamboo Blade, Volume 2

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Guest Review: Bamboo Blade, Vol. 2
By Masahiro Totsuka and Aguri Igarashi
Published by Yen Press

Review by Megan M.

bambooblade2
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Kojiro is his school’s kendo coach and is always broke and hungry. When his senpai, the coach of a rival school, bets him a year’s worth of free sushi that Kojiro’s girls’ kendo team can’t beat his, Kojiro can’t resist. The only problem is that despite his recent acquisition of Tama, the daughter of a dojo, he only has four girls on his team, one less than what’s required. That’s assuming that his other new member, Miya, can work through her behavioral issues, and that the elusive member, Saya, can actually be tracked down and make it to practice. Meanwhile, Saya and Miya (neither of whom realize the other is a teammate) become enemies when Saya scolds Miya for smoking on school property.

Not having read the first volume, I’m uncertain as to whether the bet is the central plot of the series or simply a prominent subplot. I had heard of “Bamboo Blade” but been leery of it, as the description painted a picture of a school-based shonen series with a pervy teacher and a lot of fanservice, though I was curious enough about the subject of a girls’ kendo team to give it a try. Thankfully, my suspicions appear to have been wholly unfounded, as this volume is extremely clean and the closest thing Kojiro comes to having wrong thoughts about his students is to bemoan the fact that they don’t trust him with money. Actually, despite his engaging in underhanded plots to address the problem of not having enough team members, he may function better as a coach than most teachers in manga.

The book is genuinely funny and its characters engaging. Of the characters, my favorites are Saya, who is obsessively driven to find her true calling in life, and the much more laid back (almost spacey) Kirino. The two obviously appear to be best friends. Thankfully, Kojiro and his students aren’t portrayed positively at the expense of making their rivals evil or cruel and both teams and coaches are presented as humorous and engaging, with plenty of focus on the friendships between teammates. The art is a bit cartoonish and the designs are nothing new, but it’s functional and the characters are easy to distinguish. More importantly, the action is very easy to follow, something that’s important in a series that focuses on the mechanics of a sport.

I wasn’t sure what to expect with this one, given my suspicions regarding the premise, but I ended up enjoying it far more than I expected to, and am looking forward to reading more, especially as it appears that the next volume will focus even more on practice matches between the two teams.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Natsume’s Book of Friends, Vol. 1

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Natsume’s Book of Friends
By Yuki Midorikawa
Published by Viz Media

natsume1
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Teenaged orphan Takashi Natsume has spent most of his life passed around from relative to relative, each anxious to be rid of him thanks to his habit of talking about things they can’t see. As it happens, Takashi is able to see spirits (yokai), an ability he inherited from his grandmother, Reiko. He also inherited the innocuously named “Book of Friends,” a book Reiko used to write down the names of yokai, effectively enslaving them to her every command. Now living with distant relatives near the home where his grandmother grew up, Takashi begins to encounter the many yokai she bullied over the years. Desperate to claim the book for themselves, the yokai first appear simply as enemies, but as Takashi discovers what it is they’re really after (thanks to an uneasy alliance with a cat-shaped demon he accidentally frees from its protective ward) he becomes determined to give them back their names. Word spreads, and soon the yokai are seeking him out, most with the purpose of gaining their freedom, though not all are so benign.

This story is a pleasant surprise on all counts–art, characterization, storytelling–providing something much more charming than I would have gathered simply from its PR material. It possesses a sort of xxxHolic meets Mushishi vibe I’d hoped for (but never found) in Tokyopop’s Tactics, which is not to suggest that it lacks its own unique charms. This volume is charming from start to finish, thanks to Takashi (whose good heart shines even as he faces rejection from family and peers) and the spirits he meets along the way, ranging from downright adorable to genuinely frightening.

The chapters are fairly episodic, each introducing a new spirit who has come to retrieve his or her name from Reiko’s book. Some especially poignant stories include that of a yokai who spent his life in a shrine, worshiped by locals as a god, now reduced to the size of a tiny doll as his worshipers have dwindled to one. His devotion to the last old woman to continue to offer respects is unexpectedly touching. Another especially moving story is that of a spirit (once a swallow) who attaches herself to Takashi in hopes of catching a glimpse of a human who once comforted her years ago. It is Takashi’s own loneliness that allows him to understand the feelings of these yokai and it is through his experiences with them that he learns the value of connecting with others. “Man and beast…even yokai… they search for that connection,” he says to himself at the end of the volume. “I love their fervent striving.” An emerging subplot involving another student at Takashi’s school promises more through-story as the series continues, which is something I’ll definitely look forward to.

This series is touching and even solemn in its treatment of both humans and yokai, but not without humor. Takashi’s supernatural companion, for instance (whom he refers to as “Nyanko-sensei”) is not a warm, fuzzy yokai by any means and only stays with Takashi because he’s been promised the “Book of Friends” should Takashi die before returning all the names. Yet he spent so many years trapped in the form of a Lucky Cat that he has taken on the form himself, much to his dismay. Several of the story’s characters, in fact (such as a couple of trickster yokai who at one point insist on becoming Takashi’s entourage) exist mainly to provide comic relief, but what makes the humor really work in this series is that it is never there purely for its own sake.

Yuki Midorikawa’s artwork is understated and perhaps nothing special, but she manages some beautiful imagery at just the right moments. There is a genuine feel to the story’s yokai, bringing a traditional sensibility into this modern story, much as the modern dress of Mushishi‘s Ginko does the reverse for its nineteenth-century setting. I particularly enjoy Midorikawa’s imaginative and intuitive panel layouts which are especially effective in terms of pacing.

Though many elements of its story are well-trodden territory in girls’ supernatural manga, Natsume’s Book of Friends brings a quiet thoughtfulness to the genre more characteristic of adult series like Mushishi or delicate shojo romances such as We Were There. An unexpected treasure among recent Shojo Beat titles, Natsume’s Book of Friends is definitely a series to keep an eye on.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Fairy Tail 8-9 by Hiro Mashima: B

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fairytail8The battle between Fairy Tail and rival guild Phantom Lord rages on. Two of Phantom Lord’s elite group, Element 4, have been defeated, but Gray must finish off his opponent (Juvia, a lovelorn lady possessed of rain magic) while a wounded Erza summons the strength to achieve a victory of her own. Though they’ve foiled part of Phantom Lord’s plans, however, Lucy still ends up getting kidnapped by Gajeel, the Dragon Slayer of Phantom Lord.

After some encouragement from Erza, Natsu heads to Lucy’s rescue and several chapters of fighting between he and Gajeel ensue. Unfortunately, I didn’t find these very fun to read, since there seemed to be more speedlines than usual and sometimes the action was confusing. Also, there was an unnecessary pervy spectator who kept commenting on Lucy’s undies whenever the latest explosion of battle happened to toss her about.

While this is going on, the headquarters of both Fairy Tail and Phantom Lord are destroyed, at which point the Fairy Tail guildmaster, Makarov, recovers his powers and proceeds to be a great badass. A subsequent investigation by the Magic Council finds Fairy Tail innocent in the affair, but Lucy feels responsible (it was, after all, her wealthy father who hired Phantom Lord to retrieve her in the first place), so she heads home. I really like how this chapter plays out; I was all set for a tiresome and angsty, “Oh no, it’s my fault. You’ll all be better off without me” story where her friends have to show up and convince her that she’s worthy. Instead, Lucy goes home simply to tell her dad that if he pulls anything like that again, he’ll have made an enemy of her and Fairy Tail, which is like her second family and, so far, much better than her first one.

fairytail9Upon her return, Lucy, Natsu, Gray, and Erza officially become a team and handle a couple of episodic missions without straying too far from home. I really like that most of the focus these two volumes has been on Fairy Tail itself, which has presented many opportunities to introduce or flesh out other members of the guild. The latest character to merit that treatment is ladies’ man Loke, who has a rather surprising backstory and needs Lucy’s help in order to continue to survive. Help that she, I might add, very competently provides (although it is managed a little too easily, I thought). Even though Mashima continues to use Lucy’s appearance for fanservice, he is, at least, allowing her to grow in confidence and general usefulness as the story progresses. At first, it was inconceivable that she could be an equal member of a team with powerhouses like Natsu, Gray, and Erza, but now it doesn’t seem so unlikely at all.

Although it has its ups and downs, Fairy Tail continues to offer a fun escapist story that works on a few levels; if you aren’t thrilled by the requisite shounen battles, then perhaps Lucy’s impassioned speech about finally finding acceptance will be more your cup of tea. Or maybe it’ll be the giant cow-man. Who knows?

Review copy for volume nine provided by the publisher.

We Were There, Vol. 8

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By Yuki Obata
Viz, 200 pp.
Rating: T+ (Older Teen)

As Yano’s mother prepares for her move to Tokyo, it becomes painfully clear that her financial plans are far from sound, forcing Yano to confront the possibility of leaving Nana behind to join her, something he swore he’d never do. Meanwhile, with things still shaky between Yano and Nana, Takeuchi’s sister urges him to take advantage of the situation, but, unwilling to be a consolation prize, Takeuchi instead confronts Nana to let her know what’s going on, in hopes she’ll convince Yano to stay. Though the news shocks Nana out of her most recent bout of insecurity, she is determined to support him regardless of whether he stays or goes and tells him so, a declaration she ultimately regrets.

Though it’s quite a relief to see Nana finally released from the excruciating indecision that has plagued her for several volumes, it is decision that ends up hurting her most, regardless of whether she’s doing the right thing. One of this series’ greatest strengths, of course, is its refusal to pretend that there is a “right thing,” regardless of established romantic conventions. Obata’s characters make grand declarations in one breath and waffle in the next, ringing more true in their inconsistency than a hundred shojo heroines “doing their best.” Even as the story falls into familiar scenarios of rivalry and forced partings, it does so with a level of nuance so rarely brought to this type of manga that it manages to feel genuinely fresh, even in its most dramatic moments.

Even eight volumes in, this series has lost none of the emotional ambiguity that has characterized it since the beginning, while gaining a romantic momentum that has only enhanced its likability, at least for this reviewer. Its depth and poignancy, matched by very few titles in the current lineup of translated shojo (only Sand Chronicles immediately springs to mind), should be more than enough to place We Were There at the top of anyone’s must-read list.

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

Crimson Hero 12 by Mitsuba Takanashi: B

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crimsonhero12From the back cover:
With one of their ace players injured, Nobara and the Crimson Field girls must fight harder than ever. Their challenge is the Newcomers’ Tournament, and their performance in this venue will determine just how far the team can go. But Nobara’s distracted when she learns that one of her not-so-secret admirers seeks to crush Yushin and destroy the boys’ team!

Review:
The girls’ team has done fairly well in the Newcomers’ Tournament, but losing Tomo to injury means they’ve got to hurriedly train a stand-in just to have the minimum number of members required to play. Meanwhile, when Nobara is injured during one of those “locked in the gym storage room” scenes followed by a “creepy stalker tries to corrupt me but I’m protected by my virtuous true love” rescue, this puts them at enough of a disadvantage that they end up finishing in 13th place, though they’re not entirely out of the running as far as their dream of reaching the Spring Tournament goes.

Despite the fact that the finals round of a tournament is underway, most of the volume actually centers on the love triangle of the series. Haibuki’s solicitude after Nobara’s incident with the stalkery guy makes her feel even more guilty for not telling him about her proto-relationship with Yushin, and she begins to think it wouldn’t be so bad if he knew. Yushin decides to handle things himself and, after the boys win their tournament and Haibuki both compliments Yushin on his captainship and the team on their general awesomeness, Yushin judges that the time is right.

I’ve never really liked Haibuki much, but the way he reacts to this news makes me want to smack him. I mean, nobody would react well to finding out they’ve been duped for months, but he plays the role of the wounded party to the hilt, moving out of the dorm in a huff and considering an offer to transfer to another school. I would’ve been more sympathetic, perhaps, if Takanashi-sensei hadn’t depicted him so woodenly during crucial scenes; an opportunity to really make us feel the horrible pain of betrayal was squandered there. Still, even had she done a better job, I still would’ve ended up hating him for immediately ringing up Tomo, whom he knows still has feelings for him. Don’t mess with her heart, you ass! I could get behind the storytelling decision to transition Haibuki into more of a villainous role, but I have a feeling we’re supposed to believe his actions are the result of profound heartbreak and not simply self-pity.

Crimson Hero may not be the best Shojo Beat has to offer, but I do still like it enough to want to follow the story, even if I can’t really get invested in the romantic plotline. I think I’d like it more if it were simply about Nobara and Yushin trying to strike a balance between loving each other and simultaneously pursuing their goals of volleyball greatness. If I’m lucky, Haibuki really will transfer out and leave the two of them alone, but I don’t think that’s very likely.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

We Were There, Volume 8

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wwt8For today’s review, I’ll point you to Manga Recon’s On The Shojo Beat column, where I reviewed volume eight of Yuki Obata’s We Were There. When I go into a new volume of We Were There, it’s always with a bit of trepidation. I know that the writing is likely to be extraordinary–thoughtful and unusually nuanced for high school-based shojo–beautifully enhanced by the author’s wispy, sparse artwork (re-reading my review of volume one, I can’t believe I thought then that the art was weak). What I’m also expecting, however, is that I’ll be an emotional wreck by the end of the volume and, true to form, that was certainly the case yesterday evening. It was almost a relief to be constrained by the column’s style and word limit, which restricted me from spewing my emotional responses all over the page as I have occasionally done in the past.

That said, this is an exceptionally moving series that provokes strong responses, not through the use of practiced formula or calculated emotional manipulation, but by the power of good writing and genuine insight. This is a series that constantly compels me into introspection and confession, even in a review. Part of that is due, I think, to my own life choices, which have resulted in a state of perpetual vulnerability more typically associated with a teen than an adult. While other readers my age may view this series as something that hearkens back to the trials of their youth, I’m frequently identifying with it in a more immediate way. On the other hand, the realities that Obata’s characters face–the ambiguity of concepts like “truth” and “love,” and the contradictory nature of the human heart–are not confined to youth by any means. They loom over us throughout our lives, no matter how earnestly we strive to construct secure walls around us. If there is a truth in this world, it can be found in the wavering heart of a lonely teen, something that Obata has captured with stunning accuracy.

If my rambling personal monologue has still left you in doubt about the emotional impact of We Were There, I urge you read it for yourself. Meanwhile, you can check out my review.

Oishinbo A la Carte: Vegetables

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I mean no disrespect to Tetsu Kariya or Akira Hanasaki when I say that the Vegetables volume of Oishinbo A la Carte irresistibly reminded me of 1970s television. Back in the day when there were only three networks, hour-long dramas doggedly followed the same formula: they dramatized a problem — say, drinking and driving, or falling in with a bad crowd — then resolved it with a little action and a lot of talking, culminating in a freeze-frame shot of the entire cast laughing at corny situational humor. Oishinbo follows this template to a tee, using hot-button issues such as bullying and pollution to preach the healing power of vegetables. The stories are as hokey and predictable as an episode of CHiPs or Little House on the Prairie, but entertaining in their sincerity.

Take “The Joy of a New Potato,” for example. The story begins with big-shot executive Misaki Hacho treating the Ultimate Menu team to an expensive meal. Shortly afterwards, Yamaoka discovers that Misaki has fallen on hard times, selling his business interests and trading his lavish home for a two-room flat. Kurita and Yamaoka invite Misaki’s family on a country outing, teaching his children how to harvest and cook potatoes. Though the denouement of the story is predictable and a little credulity-straining — Misaki’s son declares the potato outing “a hundred times better” than the extravagant birthday party that dad threw him the previous year — the message is heartfelt: doing things with your children is more important than doing things for them. Other stories in this vein include “The Bean Sprout Kid,” in which Yamaoka defends a quiet, frail boy from his classmates; “Good Eggplant, Bad Eggplant,” in which Tomio’s son overcomes his lifelong hatred of aubergines; “The Story of Vegetables, Now and Then,” in which a wealthy industrialist learns an important lesson about pesticides; “The Breath of Spring,” in which a cook woos her estranged lover with an asparagus dish; and “The Taste of Chicken, The Taste of Carrots,” in which a grandmother’s homemade chicken soup inspires a picky eater to add veggies to her diet.

No volume of Oishinbo would be complete with at least one epic food battle, and Vegetables opens with a doozy: a three-part contest revolving around cabbage and turnips. For most of the showdown, Yuzan appears to have the upper hand, preparing simple dishes that emphasize the unique flavors of the star ingredients. Yamaoka’s fortunes change, however, when Arakawa’s mother comes to the city for a visit, bringing wild grape juice and walnuts with her. The bold flavors of the grapes and walnuts inspire Yamaoka to take a page from his father’s book, trading elaborate preparations for straightforward ones that enhance the “muddiness” of the turnip.

As I noted in my review of the first volume, the structure of the A la Carte edition of Oishinbo is both its strength and weakness. On the one hand, organizing each volume around a particular kind of food makes for a fun, educational introduction to Japanese cuisine; a better title for the US edition would be Oishinbo: Beyond Pocky and California Rolls, given the sheer diversity of the food described in each volume. On the other hand, the series’ thematic organization robs the series of its continuity; we never have a chance to see Kurita and Yamaoka’s relationship evolve from co-workers to spouses, as we’re constantly seeing them at different stages of their courtship, nor do we have any sense of how the Ultimate Menu vs. Supreme Menu contest is unfolding.

Still, it’s difficult to deny Oishinbo‘s appeal. Imagine Iron Chef crossed with Mostly Martha, and you have some idea of why this sincere, somewhat hokey, series is as addictive as gyoza: it reminds us that food is an essential ingredient in all human relations, the glue that binds friends, families, and lovers in times of joy and crisis alike. The best of the A la Carte series.

Review copy provided by VIZ Media, LLC.

OISHINBO A LA CARTE: VEGETABLES • STORY BY TETSU KARIYA, ART BY AKIRA HANASAKI • VIZ • 266 pp. • RATING: TEEN

Guest Review: Dystopia, Volume 1

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Guest Review: Dystopia, Vol. 1
By Judith Park
Published by Yen Press

Review by Megan M.

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Seventeen-year-old Dionne has always been extremely close to (and even emotionally dependent upon) her older brother Lyon. Lyon is their parents’ favorite, while Dionne herself has never gotten along with them. When Dionne’s best friend, Shikku, confesses to a crush on Lyon, Dionne is happy to play matchmaker. Everything seems perfect for the trio until tragedy strikes and Dionne learns of a secret about her family that her parents have kept hidden since Lyon was two.

This is a very rough book and in the end I’m not entirely certain if it’s intended to be a complete story or the start of one. The first two-thirds are devoted to a rather awkward teen drama, and things only really pick up when some minor science fiction elements and a character named Gabriel are introduced in the last third. Emotionally, the series is very difficult to track. Dionne’s conflict with her parents reads as typical, but exaggerated to a point where the natural conflict feels forced and its eventual explanation makes little sense. In addition, I couldn’t tell what precisely attracted Shikku and Lyon to each other beyond hormones and I was never certain whether or not I was meant to view the relationship between the three leads as a (potentially incestuous) triangle. It’s only Gabriel, who seeks an identity of his own rather than that which was forced upon him, who really makes much sense to me as a character.

The art is rough but competent. The layouts are easy to follow and the designs are decent, but they’re also fairly uninspired and more styled to character types than individual characters. It also seems to be trying to blend several styles into one, something that I don’t think quite works. In addition, there’s an unfinished feeling to it, as if someone forgot to apply the finishing touches that would give it a needed crispness.

Park has some interesting ideas here, but I don’t think they ever really come off. The story might benefit from a creator who would wallow in the melodrama of it or take various elements to the extreme. Park chooses to instead focus on things like the serious nature of humanity and identity, but her characters and their relationships lack the “oomph” needed to really pull that off. Given more time to develop, it could work, but as executed here, it really doesn’t. While I cannot truly recommend this, I also can’t condemn it, as the potential is there, if unfulfilled. Unfortunately, though this volume is not bad, it is not good enough to stand out either, and I can’t help but think about what a more experienced creator might have done with the same material.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

801 Media acquires Under Grand Hotel!

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UGHprimgGardena, CA (December 7, 2009)-801 Media, Digital Manga Publishing’s adult yaoi imprint, is excited to announce the acquisition of the heavily fan-requested title: Under Grand Hotel by Mika Sadahiro (creator of Pathos)! Controversial, explicit, yet ultimately fascinating, Under Grand Hotel takes place in a prison that the prisoners have nicknamed the “Under Grand Hotel”. A two-part series, the story revolves around two inmates, Sen and Swordfish, and the power politics involved to survive a prison that houses the most dangerous inmates around!

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One Thousand and One Nights, Vol. 9

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One Thousand and One Nights, Vol. 9
By Han SeungHee & Jeon JinSeok
Published by Yen Press

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With the disgraced sultan Shahryar on the run and brother Shazaman hot on his trail, the Caliph names Emir Jafar as temporary sultan of Baghdad, passing on to him the task of taking back Jerusalem from the western invaders. Though he has no choice but to comply, Jafar has other matters on his mind such as uncovering the truth about Shazaman and Fatima. Thankfully, with a bit of luck and a bit more stealth, Jafar stumbles upon a horrifying secret which reveals that Shahryar is, stunningly, the sane brother, despite his history as a misogynistic serial murderer. Meanwhile, Shahryar and Shazaman face off in the desert as raging storms turn the terrain into a flash flood zone. Over in the western camp, King MacLeod is putting the moves on Sehera, by which I mean giving him books, namely 14th-century Chinese historical novel The Romance of the Three Kingdoms which becomes this volume’s story-within-a-story.

Like volume eight, this volume suffers a bit from the affliction I like to call “Lack of Sehera,” but there is plenty of plotty goodness to fill the void, particularly concerning the history of Shahryar and Shazaman’s relationship with each other and with their childhood friend Jafar. With current events juxtaposed against scenes from their childhood, it’s hard not to feel pain for both brothers and impossible to avoid the question of just how both of them became so irretrievably twisted as adults. Though, thanks to Sehera’s influence, Shahryar has begun to seek a kind of personal redemption, Shazaman’s emotional wounds remain open and untreated, infecting him to the core.

Aside from this volume’s drama between brothers, a real highlight is Sehera’s retelling of The Romance of the Three Kingdoms, which ends the volume with a painful lesson for MacLeod who may be about to learn that despite Sehera’s devotion to duty, his loyalty ultimately belongs to another. Though what appears here is obviously just a tiny fragment of the original Chinese epic (which stands at 800,000 words and 120 chapters) it is more than enough to entice readers to seek out the source material for more. This was, apparently, a strong motivation for its inclusion in the story, as the volume’s endnotes reveal writer Jeon JinSeok’s desire to introduce the testosterone-heavy novel to a new generation of female readers who may not have been otherwise encouraged to check it out. Though I’m unable to speak for the young women of South Korea, I can certainly confirm that his plan has worked on me.

With several characters’ lives hanging in the balance (really) by the end of the volume, the tension in this series shows no sign of letting up anytime soon, and with only two volumes remaining, readers face a single burning question: how to survive the wait until the next volume.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Lucky Star, Vol. 1

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luckystar1Good morning all! My big news for the day is my debut as a guest reviewer at Deb Aoki’s manga blog! To check it out, head on over to about.com where you’ll find Deb’s introduction, followed by my review of Kagami Yoshimizu’s Lucky Star, volume one.

As a pretty enthusiastic fan of the anime series, I was excited when Bandai announced they’d licensed the manga as well. Unfortunately, their first volume turned out to be a fairly stunning lesson on the importance of effective translation. For those who still haven’t read Matt Thorn’s recent smackdown on the state of translation in the manga industry, now would be a good time. On a positive note, the third volume of Lucky Star (which I have here in my possession) displays a change in translation credit I think many will find heartening. I know I do.

Many thanks to Deb for this opportunity! Read my full review here!