Daily Chatter

We’re back to a more substantial ComicList this week. You can click here for my Pick of the Week.

As for this week’s arrivals, there’s the third volume of 7 Billion Needles (Vertical), Nobuaki Tadano’s manga homage to Hal Clement’s novel, Needle. I’ve been enjoying the series for its balance of character development and monster mayhem, but the proportions seem a bit off in this installment.

Our sulky heroine Hikaru now finds herself host to not one but two powerful entities. Seeing as those beings have been acting in opposition forever, I was hoping for some focus on the new arrangement. Unfortunately, the triad is forced to adapt almost instantaneously, as outside forces demand their attention. Benevolent Horizon and malignant Maelstrom seem to have spun off and are causing evolutionary mayhem. This invites the intervention of a third powerful entity and drives our heroine and her tagalongs to try and set things right before the world is changed forever.

In short, there’s too much mayhem and not enough moping. I was enjoying Hikaru’s emotional progress, and it felt like that was shoved into the background in favor of incursions of instant monsters. It’s not devoid of emotional moments, but they tend to be drowned out in favor of the more visceral events. I’m hoping the fourth and final volume strikes a better balance, but, even if it doesn’t, this will have amounted to a very appealing series overall. And, if your reaction to either of the earlier volumes was that there wasn’t enough mayhem, this is a good opportunity to reintroduce yourself to the series.

(Comments are based on a review copy provided by the publisher.)

Other highlights for the week include:

• Secret Avengers #10 (Marvel): I was a huge Marvel fanboy back in the day, so it’s nice to have a comic I really enjoy from one of my favorite franchises. This one features a stealthy group of super-heroes actually behaving in functionally proactive ways. It’s only failing is that it needs more scenes with Valkyrie.
• 20^th Century Boys volume 13 (Viz): This was Kate Dacey’s Pick of (last) Week, and I can’t endorse it any better than she did.
• Goldilocks and the Seven Squat Bears (Yen Press): I’m recommending this one based entirely on the fact that it’s by Émile Bravo, who provided the art for the beautiful and moving My Mommy Is in America and She Met Buffalo Bill (Fanfare/Ponent Mon). This is reason enough.

What looks good to you?

I’m seriously considering selling my copy of Osamu Tezuka’s Swallowing the Earth (DMP). Copies are going for a small fortune on Amazon, and opportunism may overcome my tendency to hoard. This leads me to ask which books you’d like to see back in print from the sad limbo of licensed titles that have faded from active publication.

I’d have to go with Viz’s Four Shôjo Stories, a collection featuring the work of Moto Hagio, Keiko Nishi, and Shio Satô. Copies are expensive, and it seems like something that should be more readily available. In fact, there are a fair number of really interesting, old Viz books that I’d like to see make a comeback, but this one tops my list.

What’s your choice?

I’m having a very classic-manga weekend. I just finished drafting a post on Keiji Nakazawa’s Barefoot Gen (Last Gasp) for this week’s Manga Moveable Feast. I’m due to participate in a podcast on Osamu Tezuka’s Ayako (Vertical) this afternoon. And I’ve been catching up on recent volumes of Tezuka’s excellent Black Jack (Vertical).

So I’m curious: what are your favorite manga classics that have been published in English? My list would probably be topped by Tezuka’s Dororo (Vertical), Susumu Katsumata’s Red Snow (Drawn & Quarterly), and Kyoko Ariyoshi’s Swan (CMX).

And what classics would you like to see published in English? Now that Tezuka’s Princess Knight is in the pipeline courtesy of Vertical, my most feverishly anticipated property would have to be Riyoko Ikeda’s The Rose of Versailles.

My latest experiment in crowd-sourced Previews ordering has come to an unexpected conclusion. I feel compelled to order both of them.

This is primarily because Tsuta Suzuki’s Your Story I’ve Known (DMP) has been revealed to not be the kind of comic I’d like to include in these experiments. Enough people who should know have spoken highly of Suzuki’s work to the point that I actually just want to order it because I’d like to read it. Basically, a known quantity that may have qualities I enjoy a lot has crept into the roster of candidates due to my failure of due diligence. This cannot stand.

So, that means the winner by default is Maid Shokun, written by Nanki Satou and illustrated by Akira Kiduki (Tokyopop). Disqualification aside, I was much moved by Erica (Okazu) Friedman’s eloquent plea, and I was frankly unnerved by Tokyopop editor Lillian Diaz-Przybyl’s favorable comparison of the book to Chica Umino’s Honey and Clover (Viz). In my experience, Lillian is completely reliable and further evidence that Tokyopop should let its editors write its marketing text.

This one’s backfired rather badly on me. Fun, though.

It’s time again for you to help me choose a title from the current Previews catalog. Here are this month’s candidates:

Your Story I’ve Known, written and illustrated by Tsuta Suzuki, Digital Manga (page 278):

High-school student Matsumoto Haato has fallen in love with his abusive mother’s ex-boyfriend, yakuza Shibusawa, who was nice to him in the past. When he has nowhere left to go he turns to the gruff but kind older man. A three chapter love story that details the changing relationships between the two men over the years.

I admit that I don’t find this description entirely problematic. I do tend to like to investigate yaoi titles fairly thoroughly to see if they meet my rather specific standards (which are very similar to MJ’s), and I’m not familiar with this one, its creator, or the magazine from which it springs (Takeshobo’s Reijin).

Maid Shokun, written by Nanki Satou and illustrated by Akira Kiduki, Tokyopop (page 311):

This slice-of-life manga is a lovely exploration of the inner workings of a Maid Cafe, filled with laughter and romance, joy and heartbreak. Maybe you’ve wondered what the ‘maids’ are like before or after work? Or perhaps you’ve wondered how they deal with a job where pleasing the customer is their top priority? Well, let’s introduce you to an adorable, delicate, attractive girl who gets drawn into such a job – and see this unusual story, filled with warmth and pathos, unfold!

I like slice-of-life manga! I like stories set in eateries! I’m utterly indifferent to maid panties. Also, boobies. Also, the Japanese cover to the third volume has to be seen to be believed. Also, Tokyopop’s solicitation text is sometimes singularly useless in evaluating a book’s true nature and the likelihood that I’ll enjoy it. Maid Shokun originally ran in Comic Gum from Wani Books.

So there are your choices. Please vote in the comments, either because you think I’ll be pleasantly surprised or because you want to see me suffer.

The findings from the current issue of Previews aren’t as extensive as they sometimes are, though there are new volumes of plenty of appealing series. And there are two exciting debuts on the artier end of the spectrum.

First up is Shigeru Mizuki’s Onward Towards Our Noble Deaths from Drawn and Quarterly (page 281). Here’s the rundown:

A landmark publishing event by one of Japan’s most famous cartoonists. Shigeru Mizuki is the preeminent figure of Gekiga manga and one of the most famous working cartoonists in Japan today. Onwards Towards Our Noble Deaths is his first book to be translated into English and is a semi-autobiographical account of the desperate final weeks of a Japanese infantry unit at the end of World War II. The soldiers are told that they must go into battle and die for the honor of their country, with certain execution facing them if they return alive. Mizuki was a soldier himself, and he uses his experiences to convey the devastating consequences and moral depravity of the war.

It was originally serialized in Kodansha’s Gekiga Gendai in 1973. You may recognize Mizuki as the creator of GeGeGe no Kitaro. Drawn and Quarterly also plans to publish Mizuki’s Non Non Bâ, which earned top honors at Angoulême in 2007. A large quantity of his work has already been published in French.

Next is Usumaru Furuya’s Lychee Light Club from Vertical (page 316):

The Lychee Light Club is considered Usamaru Furuya’s breakthrough work. Originally designed as an experiemental project Lychee’s themes of youthful rebellion and deus ex machina destruction, and attractive designs eventually won over a new generation of readers and critics, leading the way for Furuya to take on his many recent high profile properties.

A surreal yet touching horror comedy Furuya’s Lychee Light Club that mixes elements of French Le Théâtre du Grand-Guignol and with modern day pop culture tropes and is set in modern day Tokyo. Shocking, sexy and innovative, the Lychee Light Club is at the pinnacle of modern day Japanese seinen manga (young adult comics).

It was originally published in Ohta Shuppan’s fascinatingly rangy Manga Erotics F.

So those are the highlights. Tomorrow, I’ll give readers another opportunity to pick a title for me that could be either intriguing or awful.

No one should be surprised by my Pick of the Week, should they? With that out of the way, I thought I’d take a look at two of the titles on this week’s crowded ComicList. (Okay, they aren’t confirmed on the list, but they’re probably already available through sources other than Diamond.)

I’ve had a pretty good track record with comics about yokai, diverse supernatural creatures of varying degrees of menace. It’s a fairly popular genre, though, so you’re bound to come across a mediocrity from time to time. This week, the middling yokai are brought by Hiroshi Shiibashi’s Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan (Viz). It’s about a dull boy whose one-quarter yokai heritage puts him in line to be the big boss of a motley group of minor demons. He’s surrounded by fabulously rendered, energetic creatures who spend too much time in the background in favor of his stereotypical human classmates.

Rikuo wants to emphasize his human heritage rather than his yokai legacy. He objects to the anti-human meanness of his prospective subjects, and he struggles to conceal his weird home life when he’s at school. Dangerous circumstances occasionally draw the yokai part of Rikuo to the forefront, and he becomes an assertive butt-kicker who bears at least a passing resemblance to InuYasha. This only serves to remind you that there’s better folklore-based manga out there for your perusal.

Even with a sprawling cast of frequently charming monsters at his disposal, Shiibashi can’t seem to devote much attention to them. He’s more interested in Rikuo’s secret-identity shenanigans, his generically flinty female friend, and the idiot rival who develops a boy-crush on Rikuo’s forceful alter ego. They’re a predictable group, as are their escapades. I’d much rather see what was happening at Rikuo’s yokai-packed family manse than follow this shônen-ready Marilyn Munster around.

On a happier, though still decidedly gothic note, I like the second volume of Kaori Yuki’s Grand Guignol Orcheastra (Viz) better than I did the first. It inches closer to becoming a Yuki title that I can fully embrace, balancing melodrama, a dizzying aesthetic, and weird spikes of both humor and gore.

For those who have forgotten, it’s about a traveling group of magicians who battle the zombies that have overrun their sort-of period, kind-of European country. Their leader and vocalist, a guy named Lucille, has dark secrets and likes to dress in drag. Their pianist, a girl named Eles, has a tragic past and disguises herself as a boy. Their companions are seedy, and the government line on their efforts is ambivalent on the best days.

In the second volume, Yuki seems to find both a more assured narrative rhythm and more underlying heft to her story. The back story she reveals about Lucille adds necessary layers to the character without undermining his essential ridiculousness. It also provides a strong, underlying subplot to fuel future stories.

Yuki’s penchant for the absurd and just slightly perverse is still on unapologetic display. Our protagonists go undercover in a convent, looking for a sacred relic and investigating the grisly murders of young nuns. This mini-arc is shaping up to be both creepy and very funny, provided you find secretive nuns committing and subjected to unexpected violence funny, which, I assure you, I do.

Grand Guignol Orchestra is still a bit on the bubble for me, but it’s sliding off of it and onto firmer ground. It’s not a singular kind of story, but Yuki’s work is as coherent as I’ve seen it while still displaying the quirkiness that’s made her a sort of superstar.

(Comments are based on review copies provided by the publisher. Nura is currently running in Shueisha’s Weekly Shônen Jump, and it’s up to about 14 volumes, so maybe it gets better. Grand Guignol Orchestra ran for five volumes in Hakusensha’s Bessatsu Hana to Yume.)

As for books that will be available through Diamond, the highlight has to be the 13^th volume of Osamu Tezuka’s medical melodrama, Black Jack (Vertical). In the perfectly understandable excitement over Vertical’s announcement of the licensing of Tezuka’s Princess Knight, we shouldn’t forget this often gruesome, frequently moving, creepily funny classic.

Another excellent arrival is the 22^nd volume of Hikaru no Go (Viz), written by Yumi Hotta and illustrated by Takeshi (Death Note, Bakuman) Obata. This marvelous series about a young man who dreams of becoming a great Go player ends with volume 23, I think, but it’s worth starting from the beginning if you haven’t yet done so.

I haven’t read the first volume yet, but various enthusiastic reviews have persuaded me that I need to catch up with Yuuki Fujimoto’s The Stellar Six of Gingacho (Tokyopop), second volume due Wednesday, about a group of kids, all children of local shopkeepers, who try and reestablish their waning friendship. In my defense, Tokyopop’s marketing is often confusing to me, and I’m never sure if I’m going to get The Secret Notes of Lady Kanoko or KimiKiss.

I’ve just polished off the Seinen Alphabet, and I finished the Shôjo-Sunjeong Alphabet ages ago, so I’m gearing up for the next, and I would appreciate some advice as I map out the Josei Alphabet in my head. Since the category is taking a while to establish itself in English, I’m inclined to focus on unlicensed properties, maybe about three per letter. Of course, I’d also like to at least list josei titles that have been published in English, just so people know what’s commercially available. I’m always curious about Japanese manga magazines, so I’ll probably at least list those as well.

But I’d love to hear what you’d like out of the Josei Alphabet. Any thoughts or preferences come to mind? (A big part of the fun of doing these alphabets is reading comments about things I’ve omitted in the comments, so I’m not going to kill myself in the name of thoroughness.)

The horrible weather and terrifying prospect of driving in it have left me with some unexpected leisure time, so I’ve been playing around with some minor navigation issues, mostly in response to people’s excellent suggestions. If you’ll look at the top of the sidebar on the right of the page, you’ll see a new “Features” header with three pages under it:

• License Requests: an index of the shockingly large number of titles that have yet to be published in English but sound good to me
• Seinen A to Z: a one-stop shop for all of the entries in The Seinen Alphabet
• Shôjo-Sunjeong A to Z: a one-stop shop for all of the entries in The Shôjo-Sunjeong Alphabet

I’m definitely open to tweaking those pages and have already, so if you have thoughts on how these could be better organized or more useful, please pass them along.

It also struck me that I almost never explore a blog through its Archives function, just because I’m usually searching by subject rather than date. So I moved the Archive widget to the bottom, just in case there are people who find it useful.

And if you’d like to offer your two cents to the Manga Bookshelf empire as a whole, click here and toss them into the fountain.

As part of settling in to our new multi-blog format, we’ve been rearranging the furniture a bit over the past week at Manga Bookshelf, with a view towards improving navigation and making more recent content easily accessible from the front page. We’ve also picked up a brand new logo (thanks to Kuriousity‘s Lissa Pattillo), replacing the old, me-centric design with something that better represents the network as a whole.

Content is falling into place as well, including a new, collaborative incarnation of my old Pick of the Week, offering a more diverse selection of new manga for readers to choose from. Regular weekly and monthly features from each of the network’s blogs remain as they always have been, ensuring that there’s plenty new to read on pretty much any day of the week.

A couple of special features I’m aware of coming up in February:

2/12: Breaking Down Banana Fish, the next Banana Fish roundtable, covering volumes 11-13

2/23: A special edition of Off the Shelf, featuring Osamu Tezuka’s Ayako

So, readers, my question for you today: What would you most like to see from the new Manga Bookshelf?

More reviews? Roundtables? Collaborative features? Flame-inducing essays? We can’t make promises, but we’d really like to know!

There are some truly terrifying titles on this week’s ComicList, though I think I found a promising Pick of the Week. My home blog choice is probably a result of weird shipping schedules, but for whatever reason, the second volume of Jiro Taniguchi’s The Summit of the Gods (Fanfare/Ponent Mon) is arriving at the local comic shop, and I’m delighted. Here’s a bit of my review of the first volume:

“Taniguchi is the ideal illustrator for this kind of material that has both epic scale and intimacy. If the crux of your story is the estimation of landscapes and people, it behooves you to find an artist that can capture the menace and nuance of both, and a writer is unlikely to find anyone better at that than Taniguchi. (As absent as women are from the narrative, it’s nice to read in a text piece that a woman made the collaboration possible, playing matchmaker for Baku and Taniguchi.) Taniguchi is probably the foremost renderer of the middle-aged man that I can think of. They wear their experiences, which is even more evident in a story like this that tracks Habu through the years. Just watching the ways that Habu ages is fascinating. And as far as landscapes and the physicality they demand of puny humans, do I even need to bother praising Taniguchi on that front? Icy cliff faces, Nepalese back alleys, Tokyo urbanity, leafy mountain trails… there’s no setting Taniguchi can’t conquer.”

Other than that, I’m intrigued by a light novel from Yen Press, Mizuki Nomura’s Book Girl and the Famished Spirit. I’m not a big follower of light novels, but Erica (Okazu) Friedman made a very persuasive case for Book Girl and the Suicidal Mime in her guest review.

What looks good to you?