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Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Jiro Taniguchi

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading: Venice

March 2, 2018 by Katherine Dacey

Venice — one of the last projects Jiro Taniguchi completed before his death in 2017 — is perhaps the most beautiful work he produced, a paean not only to the great Italian city, but to his own superb command of light, color, and line. Rendered in watercolor and ink, Venice‘s subtle palette and expansive treatment of the page are reminiscent of Taniguchi’s Guardians of the Louvre, while its premise recalls The Walking Man, Furari, and The Solitary Gourmet, three manga in which an unnamed male character strolls through the thoroughfares and byways of a major city, stopping to admire a blossoming tree or duck into an unassuming noodle shop.

Taniguchi makes an agreeable guide to Venice, frequently pausing to luxuriate in the very places that a visitor would find most charming: an outdoor marketplace filled with fruit and vegetable vendors, a moonlit promenade dotted with strolling couples, a faded but elegant hotel. Though Taniguchi renders these locations with the utmost precision, his most striking images are of canals and harbors. He captures the play of light on water with the same authority as a great maritime painter like Homer Winslow, using a watercolor palette of greens, blues, grays, blacks, and pinks to pinpoint the time of day and weather, as well as the tide — a small but potent reminder of Venice’s precarious relationship with the sea.

Though framed as a travelogue, Venice also explores similar thematic terrain as Taniguchi’s A Distant Neighborhood. Like the protagonist of Neighborhood, the Venetian wanderer is a middle-aged man making sense of his family’s past, a quest triggered by the discovery of a small lacquer box among his late mother’s possessions. A single image — a photo of a dapper Japanese couple feeding pigeons at the San Marco Piazza — leads him to Venice, where he retraces the couple’s steps. Taniguchi handles the mystery in an elegant fashion, eschewing pointed dialogue or voice-overs in favor of evocative imagery: a sepia-toned portrait of a family, a hand-drawn postcard of the Grand Canal. By focusing on these artifacts, Taniguchi provides just enough information for the reader to figure out who this young couple was without baldly explaining what drove them apart; only a brief inscription on the back of a postcard suggests the length and anguish of the couple’s separation.

These temporal shifts in the narrative are echoed in the way Taniguchi draws Venice itself. On several pages, for example, Taniguchi shows us familiar Venetian streetscapes as they looked in the 1930s, when the mystery couple lived there. On other pages, Taniguchi achieves a similar effect through the juxtaposition of the traditional with the modern: kayakers bob alongside gondoliers, floating past Renaissance merchants’ grand homes, while the mouth of the Canal de la Galeazze frames the arrival of a giant cruise ship. (In a nice touch, Taniguchi tracks the ocean liner’s stately progress over several panels, allowing us to appreciate its enormous size and sleek lines.) Even the most prosaic scenes emphasize the degree to which Venetians’ daily routines are shaped by its lengthy history; we see young children in baseball jackets sipping water from a fountain built in the 17th century and dog walkers chatting in the shadow of Venice’s great Campanille, unawed or unaware of these landmarks’ significance.

And while such sensuous images are fundamental to Venice‘s appeal, Taniguchi does more than recreate Venice’s great architecture; he conveys the rhythms and emotions of a journey, the experience of savoring new places while realizing in the moment that the place where you stand will be different the next time you visit. He evokes the curious sensation of déjà vu you experience in an unfamiliar city, as you see small elements of your own life reflected in the way that strangers live theirs. And he conveys the profound sense of discovery that comes from visiting a place that holds significance for a parent, lover, or friend, as you see the landscape through their eyes for the first time. That Taniguchi evokes these emotions primarily through the artful use of color and detail, rather than character development or dialogue, is testament to the depth of his artistry. Highly recommended.

For more insight into Venice, I encourage you to watch this brief video in which Taniguchi discusses the genesis of the story, and how he created some of the book’s most arresting images:

VENICE • BY JIRO TANIGUCHI • FANFARE/PONENT MON • NO RATING • 128 pp. 

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, Recommended Reading, REVIEWS Tagged With: Fanfare/Ponent Mon, Jiro Taniguchi, Louis Vuitton, Venice

My Week in Manga: February 20-February 26, 2017

February 27, 2017 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

In a few more days and March will be here and in a few more days the winner of the Tokyo ESP manga giveaway will be announced. Never fear though, there’s still a little time left to enter for a chance to win the first omnibus in the series! Simply tell me a little about a favorite psychic/esper from a manga. (A quick note: Normally I announce giveaway winners on Wednesday mornings but, because I have an all-day job interview on the 1st, this time the announcement will likely be made sometime on Wednesday evening instead.)

As for some interesting things I came across last week: The National Museum of Modern Art in Tokyo has created an online archive of early Japanese animation. An English-language version of the site is currently in the works, but even if you can’t read Japanese if you click around enough you’ll find the some of the videos available for viewing. The University of Michigan’s Center for Japanese Studies recently hosted two master rakugo artists–Yanagiya Sankyo and Yanagiya Kyonosuke–and has posted a video of one of their events. The video includes a brief introduction to rakugo, a demonstration and performance, and a question and answer session.

There are also a few podcasts worth mentioning (though I haven’t actually had the opportunity to listen to most of them yet): The most recent episode of Comic Books Are Burning in Hell is devoted to the late Jiro Taniguchi. Tofugu started a podcast not too long ago and recently talked with Alexander O. Smith about What Makes a Good Japanese Translator? (Smith does a fair amount of video game translation but translates novels and manga as well. He’s also one of the founders of Bento Books.) Vertical Comics recently started a podcast, too, and the first episode of the Mangocast is now available for listening.

As for crowdfunding efforts for queer comics, the end of February has seen quite a few Kickstarter projects launch: The Husband & Husband campaign is hoping to publish the first volume of the cute and funny webcomic in print. The Dates anthology, which focuses on queer historical fiction, is back for a second volume. (Though I haven’t written a quick take for it yet, I have the first volume and it’s great.) The Go Get a Roomie! project is raising funds to print the second volume and reprint the first volume of the webcomic. And finally, Digital Manga’s most recent Kickstarter has launched–Juné Manga is working with Velvet Toucher, a Japanese artist living in the United States, to release Eden’s Mercy.

Quick Takes

Guardians of the LouvreGuardians of the Louvre by Jiro Taniguchi. I’ve read most but not quite all of Taniguchi’s manga that has been released in English, but his recent passing reminded me that I hadn’t yet read Guardians of the Louvre, the latest one to have been released. One of the most remarkable things about Guardians of the Louvre is its full-color artwork. The volume is actually part of the “Louvre Collection,” a series of comics commissioned by the Louvre that feature the museum and its collections. (Hirohiko Araki’s Rohan at the Louvre is part of the same series.) Taniguchi is an extremely versatile creator; while some of his manga are action-packed, others are more introspective. Guardians of the Louvre is definitely one of the latter. The story is a quiet and contemplative exploration of art and inspiration, following a manga creator who is visiting Paris on his own for a few days. He falls ill soon after he arrives but pushes through in order to visit the Louvre. And so when he seems to start slipping through time, meeting artists and historical figures associated with the museum, not to mention the embodiments of some of the works housed there, he’s never quite sure how much of his visit is based in reality and how much is a fever dream.

He's My Only Vampire, Volume 1He’s My Only Vampire, Volumes 1-3 by Aya Shouoto. While I don’t actively avoid vampire manga, I also don’t actively seek it out. Usually there has to be something a little “extra” to catch my attention. In the case of He’s My Only Vampire, I had decided to seek out more of Shouoto’s work available in English while waiting for more of The Demon Prince of Momochi House to be released. He’s My Only Vampire is kind of an odd series and at this point the manga doesn’t seem to have a clear direction. It’s as if Shouoto is either trying to do too much at once with the story or hasn’t quite decided where it should go yet. It can still be pretty entertaining from time to time, though. Shouoto’s artwork, even though anatomy seems to occasionally go out the window, can be lovely and sensual, too. So far the best part of the manga is the three main characters–Kana, the strong and spunky heroine, Aki, the titular vampire and Kana’s long-lost childhood friend, and Jin, a high-school delinquent who has recently discovered that he is at least part werewolf. Personality-wise and the relationship-wise they’re all sort of goofy and their interactions can be quite amusing. The story is taking some darker turns, but I think I prefer its humor.

Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic, Volume 1Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic, Volumes 1-4 by Shinobu Ohtaka. I know quite a few people who love Magi and have heard plenty of great things about the series but despite those facts it’s still taken me this long to finally get around to reading the manga. Magi more or less starts out as a dungeon crawl which, while highly entertaining, isn’t exactly the most compelling narrative for a series that’s already over thirty volumes and still ongoing. But after the first dungeon crawl (and I suspect that there will likely be more of those in the future) Ohtaka begins delving into the characters and their motivations while exploring the vast world in which the live. In part Magi is inspired by One Thousand and One Nights but Ohtaka does not strictly adhere to those stories and characters, instead creating a complex world that is reminiscent of but distinct from that work. Magi really is a great series, with plenty of magic, mystery, and adventure; I can easily understand why it’s so well-loved. The artwork is clear and attractive, the settings and characters are interesting and well-realized, and the story, worldbuilding, and action are engaging. I also particularly appreciate that the women can be just as badass as the men in the series and in some cases are even more so.

NewsPrintsNewsPrints by Ru Xu. My introduction to Xu’s work was through the beautifully illustrated webcomic Saint for Rent. However, NewsPrints is her debut graphic novel. Published by Scholastic the comic is aimed towards middle grade readers but it can be appreciated by older readers, too. NewsPrints, while still being very approachable, actually tackles some pretty weighty subject matter–war, propaganda, identity, and so on. The comic is about Blue, an orphan who is hiding the fact that she is a girl so that she can work as a newsboy for the Bugle, one of the only newspapers that actually reports the truth. The Bugle has taken in and cares for other orphans as well, but Blue is afraid that she won’t be able to hide her secret much longer and may lose her newfound family because of it. The city she lives in has very firmly entrenched ideas about what is and is not appropriate for girls to do. Blue is embroiled in an extremely dangerous situation when she meets and becomes friends with Crow who is also hiding a secret, one that could greatly influence the course of the war. Though NewsPrints tells a complete story the ending is left fairly open. Apparently a sequel is currently in the works; I’m very curious to see where Xu takes the comic next.

Filed Under: FEATURES, My Week in Manga Tagged With: Aya Shouoto, comics, He's My Only Vampire, Jiro Taniguchi, magi, manga, Ru Xu, Shinobu Ohtaka

The Manga Critic’s Guide to Jiro Taniguchi

February 11, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

 

Word of Jiro Taniguchi’s death spread quickly this afternoon via Twitter and Facebook. It was a sobering moment for American fans; most of us imagined that he was only one great series away from mainstream recognition in the U.S., and eagerly hoped that his next release — whatever it might be — would wow new readers and make bank. Alas, the only appreciation we may see is in the value of his older, rarer titles like Icaro (a collaboration with French artist Moebius) and Samurai Legend (a collaboration with Kan Furuyama).

Manga lovers who haven’t yet discovered Taniguchi’s skill may be surprised to learn just how versatile and prolific he was. He leaves behind a rich assortment of historical dramas, hard-boiled crime thrillers, samurai swashbucklers, alpine adventures, food manga, and coming-of-age stories. As an introduction to Taniguchi’s sizeable oeuvre, I’ve compiled a list of my favorite titles, as well as a complete list of Taniguchi’s work in English.

Author’s note: this list was updated on August 2, 2018 to reflect the publication of two additional manga in 2017.

BENKEI IN NEW YORK (WITH JINPACHI MORI • VIZ MEDIA • 1 VOLUME)

Originally serialized in Big Comic Original, Benkei in New York focuses on a Japanese ex-pat living in New York. Like many New Yorkers, Benkei’s career is best characterized by slashes and hyphens: he’s a bartender-art forger-hitman who can paint a Millet from memory or make a killer martini. Benkei’s primary job, however, is seeking justice for murder victims’ families. Part of the series’ fun is watching him set elaborate traps for his prey, whether he’s borrowing a page from the Titus Andronicus playbook or using a grappling hook to take down a crooked longshoreman. Though we never doubt Benkei will prevail, the crackling script, imaginatively staged fight scenes, and tight plotting make Benkei in New York Taniguchi’s most satisfying crime thriller. – Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 3/20/12

A DISTANT NEIGHBORHOOD (FANFARE/PONENT MON • 2 VOLUMES)

A Distant Neighborhood is a wry, wistful take on a tried-and-true premise: a salaryman is transported back in time to his high school days, and must decide whether to act on his knowledge of the past or let events unfold as they did before. We’ve seen this story many times at the multiplex — Back to the Future, Peggy Sue Got Married — but Taniguchi doesn’t play the set-up for laughs; rather, he uses Hiroshi’s predicament to underscore the challenges of family life and the awkwardness of adolescence. (Hiroshi is the same chronological age as his parents, giving him special insight into the vicissitudes of marriage, as well as the confidence to cope with teenage tribulations.) Easily one of the most emotional, most intimate stories Taniguchi’s ever told. – Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 2/23/11

FURARI (FANFARE/PONENT MON • 1 VOLUME)

One part Walking Man, one part Times of Botchan, this elegant collection of stories focuses on Ino Tadataka (1745-1818), the cartographer responsible for the first complete map of Japan’s coastline. We meet Tadataka shortly before he embarks on the arduous task of surveying the main island. As we follow him through the parks and streets of Edo, we realize that Tadataka is consumed with measuring; he makes mental note of every step he takes, calculating and re-calculating his routes. That’s a slender premise on which to hang a manga, but Taniguchi’s fine eye for detail transforms Tadataka’s daily walks into an immersive experience, capturing the energy, light, and sounds of the eighteenth century cityscape in all its vitality. These walks are so vividly drawn, in fact, that you could read Furari in blissful ignorance of Tadataka’s identity and still find it utterly engrossing.

GUARDIANS OF THE LOUVRE (NBM/COMICS LIT • 1 VOLUME)

Guardians of the Louvre has a simple premise: a Japanese artist dreams about the world’s most famous museum. In each chapter, our unnamed protagonist is temporarily transported to a particular place and time in the Louvre’s history, rubbing shoulders with famous artists, witnessing famous events, and chatting with the Nike of Samothrace, who chaperones him from exhibit to exhibit. The set-up provides Taniguchi with a nifty excuse to draw rural landscapes, gracious country manors, war-ravaged cities, and busy galleries, as well as convincing recreations of Van Gogh and Corot canvasses. If the story lacks the full emotional impact of A Zoo in Winter or A Distant Neighborhood, the gorgeous, full-color illustrations and deluxe presentation make Guardians a natural gateway for exploring Taniguchi’s work. – Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 1/6/17

HOTEL HARBOUR VIEW (WITH NATSUO SEKIKAWA • VIZ MEDIA • 1 VOLUME)

The two stories that comprise Hotel Harbour View are among the pulpiest in the Taniguchi canon. In the first, a man waits in a seedy Hong Kong bar for the person who’s supposed to kill him, while in the second, an assassin returns to Paris for a showdown with his former associates. Both stories can be enjoyed as simple exercises in hard-boiled crime, but attentive readers will appreciate Taniguchi and Sekikawa’s sly nods to film noir, yakuza flicks, and the French New Wave. The characters in both stories self-consciously behave like gangsters and molls, trading quips and telling well-rehearsed stories about their pasts; they even wear fedoras, a sure sign that they’re reliving their favorite moments from the silver screen. A mirrored shoot-out is the highlight of the volume, demonstrating Taniguchi’s crisp draftsmanship and mastery of perspective. – Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 1/14/11

KODOKU NO GOURMET (WITH MASAYUKI QUSUMI • JMANGA • 1 VOLUME)

If you’re a fan of Kingyo Used Books, you may remember the chapter in which Japanese backpackers shared a dog-eared copy of Kodoku no Gourmet (a.k.a. The Lonely Gourmet) in order to feel more connected to home. Small wonder they adored Gourmet: its hero, Goro Inoshigara, is a traveler who devotes considerable time and energy to seeking out his favorite foods wherever he goes. While the manga is episodic  — Goro visits a new restaurant in every chapter — Jiro Taniguchi does a wonderful job of conveying the social aspect of eating, creating brief but vivid portraits of each establishment: its clientele, its proprietors, and, of course, its signature dishes. Best of all, Taniguchi and writer Masayuki Qusumi have the good sense to limit the story to a single volume, allowing the reader to savor Goro’s culinary adventures, rather than ponder its very slight premise. – Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 5/24/12

THE SUMMIT OF THE GODS (WITH YUMEMAKURA BAKU • FANFARE/PONET MON • 5 VOLUMES)

On June 8, 1924, British explorer George Mallory started up the summit of Mt. Everest, never to be seen again. His disappearance drives the plot of The Summit of the Gods, a pulse-pounding adventure in which two modern-day climbers retrace Mallory’s steps up the Northeast Ridge, searching for clues to his fate. Although the drama ostensibly focuses on Fukumachi, a hard-charging photographer, and Habu, a tough-as-nails mountaineer, the real star of Summit is Everest. Taniguchi captures the mountain’s danger with his meticulous renderings of rock formations, glaciers, and quick-changing weather patterns, reminding us that Everest is one of the remotest places on Earth; at the top of the world, no one can hear you scream. – Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 10/12/2009

THE TIMES OF BOTCHAN (WITH NATSUO SEKIKAWA • FANFARE/PONENT MON  5 VOLUMES)

In The Times of Botchan, Natsuo Sekikawa and Jiro Taniguchi immerse readers in the tumult of the Meiji Restoration. Novelist Soseki Natsume (Botchan, I Am a Cat) functions as our de facto guide, introducing us to the suffragettes, anarchists, novelists, poets, and politicians whose struggle helped create modern Japan. Taniguchi invests small details with great meaning, using them to reveal the characters’ ambivalent relationship with the West; some embrace European dress, others flatly reject it, and most, like Natsume, strike a compromise, combining a yukata with a button-down shirt and bowler hat. Though Sekikawa’s script is not as nimble as Taniguchi’s artwork, the series leaves a vivid impression nonetheless, offering modern readers a window into Natsume’s world. – Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 5/19/2010

VENICE (FANFARE/PONENT MON • 1 VOLUME)

Venice — one of the last projects Jiro Taniguchi completed before his death in 2017 — is perhaps the most beautiful work he ever produced, a paean not only to the great Italian city, but to his own superb command of light, color, and line. Rendered in watercolor and ink, Venice‘s subtle palette and expansive treatment of the page are reminiscent of Taniguchi’s Guardians of the Louvre, while its premise recalls The Walking Man, Furari, and The Solitary Gourmet, three manga in which an unnamed male character strolls through the thoroughfares and byways of a major city, stopping to admire a blossoming tree or duck into an unassuming noodle shop. Taniguchi does more than recreate the Venetian landscape, however; he conveys the rhythms and emotions of a journey as the hero retraces his grandparents’ steps through 1930s Venice. – Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 3/2/18.

THE WALKING MAN (FANFARE/PONENT MON • 1 VOLUME)

This nearly wordless manga follows an ordinary man through his daily routines. He walks his dog; he swims laps at the pool; he retrieves a model airplane from a tree. In less capable hands, the sheer lack of conflict would result in a dull comic, but Taniguchi invests these activities with meaning by interrupting them with moments of simple beauty: a rare bird alighting on a branch, a rooftop view of a neighborhood in spring bloom. Though we learn very little about the protagonist — he remains nameless throughout the story — his capacity for noticing and savoring these details becomes a small act of heroism, a conscious effort to resist the indifference, complacency, and impatience that blinds us to our surroundings and dulls our imaginations.

A ZOO IN WINTER (FANFARE/PONENT MON • 1 VOLUME)

Drawing on his own experiences, Jiro Taniguchi spins an engaging tale about a young man who abandons a promising career in textile design for the opportunity to become a manga artist. Though the basic plot invites comparison with Bakuman, Taniguchi does more than just document important milestones in Hamaguchi’s career: he shows us how Hamaguchi’s emotional maturation informs every aspect of his artistry — something that’s missing from many other portrait-of-an-artist-as-a-young-man sagas, which place much greater emphasis on the pleasure of professional recognition than on the satisfaction of mastering one’s craft. Lovely, moody artwork and an appealing cast of supporting characters complete this very satisfying package.  —Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 5/28/11

* * * * * *

A COMPLETE LIST OF JIRO TANIGUCHI TITLES IN ENGLISH TRANSLATION

Below is a complete list of Jiro Taniguchi’s manga in English. Please note that I’ve provided the publication information for the English translations, not the original Japanese editions.

As Artist and Author

  • Taniguchi, Jiro. A Distant Neighborhood. Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 2009. 2 vols.
  • Taniguchi, Jiro. Furari. Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 2017. 1 vol.
  • Taniguchi, Jiro. Guardians of the Louvre. NBM/Comics Lit, 2016. 1 vol.
  • Taniguchi, Jiro. The Ice Wanderer and Other Stories. Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 2010. 1 vol.
  • Taniguchi, Jiro. The Quest for the Missing Girl. Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 2010. 1 vol.
  • Taniguchi, Jiro. Venice. Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 2017. 1 vol.
  • Taniguchi, Jiro. The Walking Man. Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 2007. 1 vol.
  • Taniguchi, Jiro. A Zoo in Winter. Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 2011. 1 vol.

As Artist

  • Boilet, Frederic and Jiro Taniguchi. Tokyo Is My Garden. Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 2010. 1 vol.
  • Furuyama, Kan and Jiro Taniguchi. Samurai Legend. Central Park Media, 2003. 1 vol.
  • Moebius and Jiro Taniguchi. Icaro. IBooks, 2003-2004. 2 vols.
  • Mori, Jinpachi and Jiro Taniguchi. Benkei in New York. VIZ Media. 2001. 1 vol.
  • Qusumi, Masayuki and Jiro Taniguchi. Kodoku Gourmet.  JManga, 2012. 1 vol.*
  • Sekikawa, Natsuo and Jiro Taniguchi. Hotel Harbour View. VIZ Media, 2001. 1 vol.
  • Sekikawa, Natsuo and Jiro Taniguchi. The Times of Botchan. Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 2007-2010. 5 vols.**
  • Yumemakura, Baku and Jiro Yaniguchi. The Summit of the Gods. Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 2009-2015. 5 vols.

*This title was only released digitally through the JManga platform.

**This series is incomplete in English; the complete Japanese edition spans 10 volumes.

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, Recommended Reading Tagged With: Fanfare/Ponent Mon, Jiro Taniguchi, JManga, NBM/Comics Lit, VIZ

Guardians of the Louvre

January 6, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

One part Times of Botchan, one part Night at the Museum, Jiro Taniguchi’s Guardians of the Louvre is a stately, handsomely illustrated manga that never quite rises to the level of greatness.

The premise is simple: a Japanese artist lies ill in his Parisian hotel room, feverishly dreaming about the museum’s galleries. In each chapter, the hero is temporarily transported to a particular place and time in the Louvre’s history, rubbing shoulders with famous artists, witnessing famous events, and chatting with one of the museum’s most famous works–the Nike of Samothrace, who takes the form of a stone-faced tour guide. If the set-up sounds like The Times of Botchan, it is, though Guardians of the Louvre is less ambitious; Taniguchi’s primary objective is to celebrate the museum’s collection by highlighting a few of its most beloved works, rather than immersing the reader in a specific milieu.

The artist-as-time-traveler schtick is a little hackneyed, but provides Taniguchi with a nifty excuse to showcase the breadth of his artistry, offering the reader a visual feast of rural landscapes, gracious country manors, war-ravaged cities, and busy galleries. Using watercolor and ink, Taniguchi convincingly recreates iconic paintings by Van Gogh and Corot, effortlessly slipping into each artist’s style without slavishly reproducing every detail of the originals. Taniguchi’s characters are rendered with a similar degree of meticulousness, though their waxen facial expressions sometimes mar scenes calling for a meaningful display of emotion.

What prevents Guardians of the Louvre from taking flight is its relentlessly middlebrow sensibility. In one scene, for example, the Nike of Samothrace leads our unnamed hero through an empty Salle des États, home of the Mona Lisa. The artist examines the painting closely, musing about the tourist hordes that normally throng the gallery. “It’s not about art appreciation anymore. It’s wholly a popular tourist destination” he says wistfully. If his character was anything more than an audience surrogate, his comment might have registered as a thoughtful meditation on the commercialization of fine art, or the outsized fame of Da Vinci’s canvas. Absent any knowledge of who he is or what kind of art he creates, however, his remarks sounds more like a moment of bourgeois snobbery: don’t these peasants realize the Louvre is filled with other remarkable paintings?

A similarly pedestrian spirit animates the chapters documenting the 1939 evacuation of the Louvre. To be sure, the mechanics of packing and transporting the art are fascinating; Taniguchi’s expert draftsmanship conveys the complexity and physical demands of the task in vivid detail, inviting us to ride along with Delacroix’s monumental Raft of the Medusa on its perilous journey from Paris to Versailles. The dialogue that frames these passages, however, is rife with cliches. “They were ready to risk everything to evacuate the paintings,” the Nike solemnly informs our hero before implying that this operation was a little-known episode in French history–a strange claim, given the story’s romantic treatment in popular culture.

The manga’s most effective passages, by contrast, are wordless. We see our hero wander through a forest where Corot silently paints the undulating boughs, and a medieval town where Van Gogh sets up his easel in a sun-drenched hay field. In these fleeting moments, Taniguchi’s sensual imagery allows us to step into the artist’s shoes and relive the creative process that yielded Recollection of Mortefontaine and Daubigny’s Garden for ourselves. If only the rest of the manga wasn’t so insistent on telling us how to appreciate these paintings.

Guardians of the Louvre
By Jiro Taniguchi
No rating
NBM Graphic Novels, $24.99

This review originally appeared at MangaBlog on May 20, 2016.

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Jiro Taniguchi, Louvre Museum, NBM/Comics Lit

The Summit of the Gods, Vol. 5

August 21, 2015 by Ash Brown

The Summit of the Gods, Volume 5Author: Baku Yumemakura
Illustrator: Jiro Taniguchi

U.S. publisher: Fanfare/Ponent Mon
ISBN: 9788492444403
Released: July 2015
Original release: 2003
Awards: Angoulême Prize, Japan Media Arts Award

Baku Yumemakura’s novel The Summit of the Gods (which, sadly, hasn’t been translated into English) was published in Japan in 1998 and would go on to win the Shibata Renzaburo Award. In 2000, Yumemakura was paired up with the immensely talented artist Jiro Taniguchi to create a manga adaptation of the novel. The Summit of the Gods manga continued to be serialized through 2003 and was collected as a five-volume series. The manga also became and award-winning work, earning an Angoulême Prize and a Japan Media Arts Award among many other honors and recognitions. In addition to being one of my favorite manga by Taniguchi, The Summit of the Gods is actually one of my favorite manga in general. As such, I was waiting with great anticipation for the publication of the fifth and final volume of the series in English by Fanfare/Ponent Mon. I was thrilled when it was finally released in 2015.

Photographer Makoto Fukamachi followed the legendary climber Jouji Habu to Mount Everest to document one of the most difficult and dangerous ascents to ever be attempted: a solo climb of the southwest face in the winter without oxygen. The agreement between them was that neither one of the men would interfere with the other’s climb no matter what happened. But when Fukamachi’s life is in danger Habu rescues him anyway, putting his own life and the success of his ascent at risk. Fukamachi ultimately survives, returning to Japan to find a media frenzy; not only was Habu an infamous climber, his assault on Everest was an illegal one. And then there’s the matter of the camera that Habu had in his possession. Believed to have belonged to George Mallory, it draws considerable attention once its existence comes to light. Fukamachi’s connection to Habu and to the camera makes him a person of interest as well. Even without the additional scrutiny from the public he would find readjusting to a normal life after his fateful Everest climb to be challenging if not impossible.

Summit of the Gods, Volume 5, page 2013Three stories have become irrevocably intertwined in The Summit of the Gods: the story of George Mallory and Andrew Irvine’s’ final climb and disappearance on Mount Everest, the story of Jouji Habu’s efforts to become the greatest known climber more for himself than for any sort of fame, and the story of Makoto Fukamachi as he strives to untangle his own feelings about climbing and about life by trying to unravel the mysteries surrounding those of the others. The Summit of the Gods can be read in two different ways. It can be approached simply as a compelling tale of adventure and survival or, either alternatively or simultaneously, as a stunning metaphor for any human struggle against seemingly overwhelming odds. Climbing requires great physical and mental fortitude, and life can be just as demanding. The characters in The Summit of the Gods not only pit themselves against nature, they challenge themselves to overcome their own personal weaknesses and limitations.

Facing oneself—being able to objectively recognize the extent of one’s own abilities and admit the possibility of failure—isn’t necessarily an easy thing to do. It can also be a very lonely thing. This, too, is emphasized in The Summit of the Gods through Yumemakura’s writing and Taniguchi’s artwork. Even when working together, the climbers must ultimately rely on themselves and can only trust and depend on others so far. In the end they face the mountain and face their personal demons alone. The characters also show a constant struggle against their own insignificance, a hard-fought battle to find meaning in their lives. Taniguchi’s vistas are gorgeous and sweeping, showing just how small a person is in comparison to the rest of the world. But this also makes the climbers’ perseverance and achievements all the more remarkable. The Summit of the Gods is a phenomenal work with great writing and fantastic art, effectively telling a thrilling drama that also has great depth to it.

Filed Under: REVIEWS Tagged With: Angoulême Prize, Baku Yumemakura, Fanfare/Ponent Mon, Japan Media Arts Award, Jiro Taniguchi, manga, summit of the gods

The Summit of the Gods, Vol. 4

October 22, 2014 by Ash Brown

The Summit of the Gods, Volume 4Author: Baku Yumemakura
Illustrator: Jiro Taniguchi

U.S. publisher: Fanfare/Ponent Mon
ISBN: 9788492444632
Released: October 2013
Original release: 2003
Awards: Angoulême Prize, Japan Media Arts Award

One of my favorite manga series is The Summit of the Gods. The manga, a five-volume series written by Baku Yumemakura and illustrated by Jiro Taniguchi, is an adaptation of Yumemakura’s award-winning novel The Summit of the Gods. The manga adaptation itself is also an award-winning work, taking home an Angoulême Prize and a Japan Media Arts Award in addition to winning and being nominated for numerous other awards. The Summit of the Gods, Volume 4 was originally published in Japan in 2003 while the English-language edition was released by Fanfare/Ponent Mon in 2013. It may have taken ten years for the volume to have appeared in translation, but it was definitely worth the wait. The Summit of the Gods is a phenomenal series with fantastic artwork, and engaging story, and marvelously flawed, realistic characters. Even considering some of their incredible talents and abilities, not to mention their enormous personalities, the manga’s characters remain believable and sympathetic.

For the past several years the legendary Japanese mountain climber Jouji Habu has been illegally living and climbing in Nepal. He has been preparing for more than a decade to attempt something believed by most to be impossible–climbing Mount Everest’s summit via its southwest face solo, in the winter, and without oxygen. Even teams of climbers have failed to reach the summit and return alive using a southwest route under much less stringent conditions than those proposed by Habu for his ascent. His attempt will be so dangerous that he hasn’t even tried to obtain a climbing permit, knowing that it will be denied. As a result, very few people are aware of exactly what it is Habu is about to do. One of those people is Makoto Fukamachi, a photographer and mountain climber whose interest in Habu was originally sparked by a camera that he found which may have belonged to George Mallory. But now Habu is determined to reach the summit of Mount Everest and Fukamachi is determined to record his astonishing feat, following him as far as he possibly can.

The one thing that I found slightly unsatisfying about the previous volume of The Summit of the Gods was the story’s temporary shift of focus off of the actual mountain climbing in the series. In retrospect, it makes sense to have that small break as the fourth volume more than makes up for it–almost the entire manga is devoted to Habu and Fukamachi’s preparations for and the first part of their respective climbs of Mount Everest. And it is awesome, in the traditional sense of the word. Taniguchi’s artwork in The Summit of the Gods can be breathtaking with its stunning landscapes and massive mountain vistas. The scale alone feels intimidating and awe-inspiring. Taniguchi has not only beautifully and realistically captured the snow, ice, and rock of Mount Everest, he has also devoted an impressive amount of attention to the details of mountain climbing and the equipment needed to survive. The Summit of the Gods is a manga series fortunate to have superb artwork as well equally strong writing.

The Summit of the Gods, Volume 4 brings to the forefront not only the physical struggles of the characters but their psychological battles as well. The series is intense. Over the course of the last few volumes it has been made very clear how perilous mountain climbing can be. Even under better conditions than Fukamachi and Habu are now facing it has been shown that the smallest mistake can easily end in injury or death. There is a very real and strong possibility that neither one of the men will survive the climb and the sense of danger is constant. Habu and Fukamachi are each facing the mountain head on and in the process must confront alone their own pasts, failings, and limitations. The loneliness of their climb, the isolation they experience on the mountain as well as in their lives, the sacrifices and risks made to achieve what they have and come as far as they have, all of this and more is exceedingly important to the series. The Summit of the Gods remains a tremendously compelling manga; I look forward to reading the final volume a great deal.

Filed Under: REVIEWS Tagged With: Angoulême Prize, Baku Yumemakura, Fanfare/Ponent Mon, Japan Media Arts Award, Jiro Taniguchi, manga, summit of the gods

The Summit of the Gods, Volume 3

June 11, 2014 by Ash Brown

The Summit of the Gods, Volume 3Author: Baku Yumemakura
Illustrator: Jiro Taniguchi

U.S. publisher: Fanfare/Ponent Mon
ISBN: 9788492444335
Released: June 2012
Original release: 2002
Awards: Angoulême Prize, Japan Media Arts Award

Based on an award-winning novel by Baku Yumemakura, The Summit of the Gods is a five-volume manga series written by Yumemakura and illustrated by Jiro Taniguchi. The manga itself has also won several awards, including a Japan Media Arts Excellence Award and an Angoulême Prize for Artwork among other honors. The Summit of the Gods, Volume 3 was originally released in 2002 in Japan. The English-language edition was published ten years later in 2012 by Fanfare/Ponent Mon. The Summit of the Gods is one of my favorite manga that Taniguchi has worked on, not to mention one of my favorite manga series in general. It’s an engaging story with compellingly flawed characters and its artwork is fantastic. Two years passed between the release of the second English volume and the third. Though I wish it could be published more quickly, The Summit of the Gods is a series worth waiting for. The books have a larger trim size than most other manga being released, which allows Taniguchi’s artwork to really shine, and the hefty page count allows the storytelling room to breathe, too.

Makoto Fukamachi has returned to Nepal, continuing his search for the legendary mountain climber Jouji Habu, who is now going by the name of Bikh Sanp. Habu may have found the camera carried by George Mallory on his last, fateful ascent of Mount Everest. The camera and its film could hold the answer to one of the climbing world’s greatest mysteries: who the first person to stand on the summit of Everest was. While researching the camera, Fukamachi became more and more interested in Habu himself, but finding a man who doesn’t want to be found proves to be an extremely difficult task. It is only after Ryoko Kishi arrives in Kathmandu that Fukamachi is able to make any headway with his investigation. Her brother died in a climbing accident, and Habu carries a tremendous amount of guilt because of it, but Ryoko was also one of the people closest to Habu in Japan. However, even she hasn’t heard from him in more than three years. As Fukamachi and Ryoko’s search for Habu progresses, others become curious about him and the camera as well, which only complicates matters further.

Compared to previous volumes in the series, except for the opening chapter which focuses on the many failed attempts to reach the summit of mount Everest before success was achieved, The Summit of the Gods, Volume 3 devotes less time to mountain climbing and more time to Fukamachi’s investigation and its unfortunate fallout. The emphasis in this volume has moved from the mountains and the wilderness to the surrounding cities and villages. While I do miss the drama and grandeur of nature so expertly captured in Taniguchi’s artwork, his portrayal of Kathmandu, Patan, and the various Sherpa villages is equally impressive in the amount of detail included. The city- and villagescapes are just as important as the landscapes. Aspects of Nepalese politics and culture are incorporated into the series as well. But even though climbing isn’t always at the forefront of this volume of The Summit of the Gods, it still plays and extremely important role in the story and it is vitally important to the characters as well.

While Fukamachi may be the protagonist of The Summit of the Gods, the series is really more about Habu and his story. As he has proved time and again, Habu is an incredible climber. In the third volume he pulls off an astonishing rescue–scaling a cliff with one arm while carrying another person–that leaves the others in awe of him. This is not the first, and I am sure it will not be the last, amazing feat that Habu performs. He is so singly devoted to and passionate about climbing that he has made many sacrifices in his life just so that he can continue to push himself to his limits. When it is finally revealed, the ultimate goal that Habu has set his sights on is enormous, beyond anything that anyone else has ever seriously considered attempting. Habu both intimidates and inspires Fukamachi, forcing Fukamachi to evaluate and reevaluate himself and his own capabilities and desires. The Summit of the Gods, Volume 3 is a critical turning point in the development of the series’ characters and plot, bringing a resolution to one story arc and beginning the next.

Filed Under: REVIEWS Tagged With: Angoulême Prize, Baku Yumemakura, Fanfare/Ponent Mon, Japan Media Arts Award, Jiro Taniguchi, manga, summit of the gods

The Summit of the Gods, Volume 2

April 7, 2013 by Ash Brown

Author: Baku Yumemakura
Illustrator: Jiro Taniguchi

U.S. publisher: Fanfare/Ponent Mon
ISBN: 9788492444328
Released: January 2010
Original release: 2001
Awards: Angoulême Prize, Japan Media Arts Award

The second volume of The Summit of the Gods, a five volume manga series written by Baku Yumemakura and illustrated by Jiro Taniguchi, was originally released in Japan in 2001. The English-language release of The Summit of the Gods, Volume 2 was published by Fanfare/Ponent Mon in early 2010. The series is based on Yumemakura’s 1997 award-winning novel The Summit of the Gods and has won several awards itself, including a Japan Media Arts Excellence Award in 2001 and an Angoulême Prize for Artwork in 2005. I will admit right now that I love Yumemakura and Taniguchi’s The Summit of the Gods. The manga is easily my favorite work that Taniguchi has collaborated on. The series has gorgeous artwork, characters that are larger than life but who remain human in their imperfections, and an engaging story.

After returning to Japan from Nepal, journalist Makoto Fukamachi has been doggedly pursuing the enigma of the man he believes he met there–a legendary Japanese mountain climber named Jouji Habu. Initially, Fukamachi was interested in a camera he is convinced is in Habu’s possession. It may very well be the same camera that George Mallory brought with him on his assault on Everest in 1924. If true, Habu has his hands on an important piece of mountaineering history. But as Fukamachi’s investigation proceeds he becomes more and more interested in Habu himself and what drives the man as a climber. While Fukamachi’s personal life is unraveling he throws himself into his research, tracking down anyone who might know anything about Habu and his current whereabouts.

While I personally find Fukamachi’s persistent research to be interesting as he slowly pieces together disparate clues and leads, what I really love about The Summit of the Gods, Volume 2 are the stories that he uncovers. As unlikeable as Habu can be, and with as many enemies as he has made, his accomplishments as a mountain climber are unquestionably phenomenal. Fukamachi delves into many of Habu’s feats: his disastrous and yet astonishing foray climbing the Grandes Jorasses as well as his notorious participation in a group summit assault on Everest and several unfortunate incidents relating to it. But as amazing as Habu’s achievements are as a climber, it’s Taniguchi’s stunning artwork that makes them a reality for the reader. From the largest mountain vistas to the smallest crack in ice or rock, Taniguchi’s attention to detail is superb. The pacing and timing of his panels make the climbs both exhilarating and terrifying.

Nature and the mountains can be glorious, but they can also be extraordinarily dangerous. Taniguchi’s artwork expertly conveys this. Both the figurative and literal gravity of the situations that the climbers face can almost be felt reading The Summit of the Gods. When something goes wrong, even the smallest something, the repercussions can be devastating. And at times the events that unfold are entirely outside of human control. Saying that a climber fell–such a small and simple word–is easy enough. But the enormity of the human drama and the story surrounding that fall, what happened to cause it, and what happens as a result of it, is intensely engrossing. It is clear that the characters in The Summit of the Gods are effected deeply; the impacts can be seen in their changing relationships to each other, to climbing, and to the mountains themselves. The Summit of the Gods is an incredible work.

Filed Under: REVIEWS Tagged With: Angoulême Prize, Baku Yumemakura, Fanfare/Ponent Mon, Japan Media Arts Award, Jiro Taniguchi, manga, summit of the gods

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading: Benkei in New York

March 20, 2012 by Katherine Dacey 11 Comments

I’ve always thought that I had something in common with Warren Ellis — besides a sailor’s fondness for colorful language, that is — and reading Benkei in New York confirmed my suspicions: we both like Jiro Taniguchi. Flip to the back cover of the VIZ Pulp edition, and you’ll see Ellis declaring that “Benkei is better than 96% of the crime fiction coming out of America right now.” I have no idea how he arrived at that figure, but eleven years after Benkei’s initial US release, I’m still inclined to agree with him.

Originally serialized in Big Comic Original, Benkei in New York (1991-96) is a collaboration between Taniguchi and writer Jinpachi Mori, best known in Japan for Kasai no Hito, a long-running manga about an eccentric but wise judge. The seven Benkei stories focus on a Japanese ex-pat living in New York. Like many New Yorkers, Benkei’s career is best characterized by slashes and hyphens: he’s a bartender-art forger-hitman who can paint a Millet from memory or assassinate a thug using a swordfish. (Let’s just say they call it “swordfish” for a reason.)

Benkei’s primary job, however, is seeking poetic justice for murder victims’ families. Of course, there wouldn’t be much of a story if Benkei simply used a gun; part of the series’ allure is watching him set elaborate traps for his prey, whether he’s borrowing a page from the Titus Andronicus playbook or using a grappling hook to wound an unscrupulous dockworker. In “Haggis,” for example, Benkei uses a draft-dodger’s memories of a 1968 trip to Scotland to win the man’s confidence, persuading him to visit an out-of-the-way bar where a gruesome dish awaits him. “Throw Back,” another stand-out, culminates in an elaborate showdown in the American Music of Natural History that gives new meaning to the phrase “interactive exhibits”; Benkei and his victim plunder display cases for weapons, dueling their way through the Hall of Human Origins.

As the scene in the Natural History Museum suggests, New York City is as much a “character” as Benkei himself. Taniguchi clearly spent hours poring over photographs of the city: his rendition of Coney Island, for example, doesn’t just show the Cyclone — an easy symbol for this iconic stretch of New York coastline — but all the bathhouses, apartment buildings, and other structures that line the boardwalk, including the distinctive facade of the New York Aquarium. Moreover, he captures the feeling of Coney Island in the off-season — the dark grey color of the ocean, the empty expanses of boardwalk, the absence of people — imbuing the scene with a melancholy authenticity.

Taniguchi’s eye for detail is evident in his busier scenes as well. In the opening pages of “Throw Back,” Benkei pursues his mark through the 42nd Street subway station. A series of narrow, horizontal panels convey the bustling energy of the platform, cross-cutting between a busker pounding on plastic drums (a subway fixture in the 1990s) and Benkei threading his way through the commuters. Taniguchi swiftly pulls back from extreme close-ups of the the drummer and Benkei to crowd scenes, in so doing helping us see this claustrophobic, noisy space as Benkei does: camouflage for the urban hunter.

Like many VIZ manga from the 1990s and early 2000s, Benkei in New York boasts a stylish translation. (Yuji Oniki is credited as the adapter.) The script crackles with wit and energy, as Benkei trades one-liners with clients and targets alike. One of my favorite exchanges occurs early in the volume, as Benkei talks business with the leader of an art forgery ring:

Forger: Timing is of crucial importance. Once we agree on a deal, it’s our responsibility to deliver the product to the client while they’re still drooling.
Benkei: You sound like you run a pizza joint.
Forger: What’s wrong with that? Selling pizzas is how I learned everything about New York.

Hokey as that conversation may be, it wouldn’t be out of place in a gangster flick; one could almost imagine a character in Goodfellas or The Godfather reminiscing about his past in a similar fashion.

If Benkei’s motives and methods are sometimes inscrutable — or downright illogical — the stories still work beautifully, with crack pacing and memorable denouements that can be as deeply unsettling as they are emotionally satisfying — or, in Warren Ellis’ words, Benkei in New York is “diabolically well-told.” Couldn’t have said it better myself.

BENKEI IN NEW YORK • STORY BY JINPACHI MORI AND ART BY JIRO TANIGUCHI • VIZ • 224 pp. • RATING: MATURE (18+)

Filed Under: Manga Critic Tagged With: Jinpachi Mori, Jiro Taniguchi, Noir, Seinen

The Best Manga You’re Not Reading: Benkei in New York

March 20, 2012 by Katherine Dacey

I’ve always thought that I had something in common with Warren Ellis — besides a sailor’s fondness for colorful language, that is — and reading Benkei in New York confirmed my suspicions: we both like Jiro Taniguchi. Flip to the back cover of the VIZ Pulp edition, and you’ll see Ellis declaring that “Benkei is better than 96% of the crime fiction coming out of America right now.” I have no idea how he arrived at that figure, but eleven years after Benkei’s initial US release, I’m still inclined to agree with him.

Originally serialized in Big Comic Original, Benkei in New York (1991-96) is a collaboration between Taniguchi and writer Jinpachi Mori, best known in Japan for Kasai no Hito, a long-running manga about an eccentric but wise judge. The seven Benkei stories focus on a Japanese ex-pat living in New York. Like many New Yorkers, Benkei’s career is best characterized by slashes and hyphens: he’s a bartender-art forger-hitman who can paint a Millet from memory or assassinate a thug using a swordfish. (Let’s just say they call it “swordfish” for a reason.)

Benkei’s primary job, however, is seeking poetic justice for murder victims’ families. Of course, there wouldn’t be much of a story if Benkei simply used a gun; part of the series’ allure is watching him set elaborate traps for his prey, whether he’s borrowing a page from the Titus Andronicus playbook or using a grappling hook to wound an unscrupulous dockworker. In “Haggis,” for example, Benkei uses a draft-dodger’s memories of a 1968 trip to Scotland to win the man’s confidence, persuading him to visit an out-of-the-way bar where a gruesome dish awaits him. “Throw Back,” another stand-out, culminates in an elaborate showdown in the American Music of Natural History that gives new meaning to the phrase “interactive exhibits”; Benkei and his victim plunder display cases for weapons, dueling their way through the Hall of Human Origins.

As the scene in the Natural History Museum suggests, New York City is as much a “character” as Benkei himself. Taniguchi clearly spent hours poring over photographs of the city: his rendition of Coney Island, for example, doesn’t just show the Cyclone — an easy symbol for this iconic stretch of New York coastline — but all the bathhouses, apartment buildings, and other structures that line the boardwalk, including the distinctive facade of the New York Aquarium. Moreover, he captures the feeling of Coney Island in the off-season — the dark grey color of the ocean, the empty expanses of boardwalk, the absence of people — imbuing the scene with a melancholy authenticity.

Taniguchi’s eye for detail is evident in his busier scenes as well. In the opening pages of “Throw Back,” Benkei pursues his mark through the 42nd Street subway station. A series of narrow, horizontal panels convey the bustling energy of the platform, cross-cutting between a busker pounding on plastic drums (a subway fixture in the 1990s) and Benkei threading his way through the commuters. Taniguchi swiftly pulls back from extreme close-ups of the the drummer and Benkei to crowd scenes, in so doing helping us see this claustrophobic, noisy space as Benkei does: camouflage for the urban hunter.

Like many VIZ manga from the 1990s and early 2000s, Benkei in New York boasts a stylish translation. (Yuji Oniki is credited as the adapter.) The script crackles with wit and energy, as Benkei trades one-liners with clients and targets alike. One of my favorite exchanges occurs early in the volume, as Benkei talks business with the leader of an art forgery ring:

Forger: Timing is of crucial importance. Once we agree on a deal, it’s our responsibility to deliver the product to the client while they’re still drooling.
Benkei: You sound like you run a pizza joint.
Forger: What’s wrong with that? Selling pizzas is how I learned everything about New York.

Hokey as that conversation may be, it wouldn’t be out of place in a gangster flick; one could almost imagine a character in Goodfellas or The Godfather reminiscing about his past in a similar fashion.

If Benkei’s motives and methods are sometimes inscrutable — or downright illogical — the stories still work beautifully, with crack pacing and memorable denouements that can be as deeply unsettling as they are emotionally satisfying — or, in Warren Ellis’ words, Benkei in New York is “diabolically well-told.” Couldn’t have said it better myself.

BENKEI IN NEW YORK • STORY BY JINPACHI MORI AND ART BY JIRO TANIGUCHI • VIZ • 224 pp. • RATING: MATURE (18+)

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, Recommended Reading, REVIEWS Tagged With: Jinpachi Mori, Jiro Taniguchi, Noir, Seinen

The Best Manga of 2011: The Manga Critic’s Picks

December 31, 2011 by Katherine Dacey 27 Comments

The usual gambit for introducing a year-end list is to remark on the abundance of good titles, acknowledge the difficulty in choosing just ten (or five, or three), and comment on the overall state of the industry. And while I certainly debated what to include on my list, I’ll be honest: 2011 yielded fewer contenders for Best Manga than any other year I’ve covered. The dearth of new titles was attributable to publishers’ financial prudence; companies released fewer books, licensed fewer series, and focused on repackaging older content for budget-conscious consumers. And though I selfishly wish that more new material had been released this year, I think manga publishers have done an excellent job of responding to their biggest challenges: a sluggish economy, digital piracy, and Borders’ bankruptcy.

So what titles made my 2011 list? My top ten are below, along with my list of favorite continuing series, favorite finales, and favorite guilty pleasures.

10. BREATHE DEEPLY (Yamaaki Doton; One Peace Books)

Part sci-fi thriller, part coming-of-age story, this engrossing drama examines the relationship between two young men: Sei, who grew up in a world of privilege, and Oishi, a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Both Sei and Oishi fall in love with Yuko, a sickly girl whose incurable illness inspires her suitors to become medical researchers. In less capable hands, Breathe Deeply might have been a mawkish paean to the purity of young love, but the husband-and-wife team of Yamaaki Doton have a keen ear for dialogue; the interactions between Yuko and her two suitors are tinged with an authentic mixture of adolescent anxiety, sexual longing, and braggadocio. Clean, expressive artwork and well-rounded characters help sell the story, especially in its final pages. One of 2011’s best surprises.

9. THE SECRET NOTES OF LADY KANOKO (Ririko Tsujita; Tokyopop)

Kanoko, the sardonic heroine of The Secret Notes of Lady Kanoko, is a student of human behavior, gleefully filling her notebooks with detailed observations about her classmates. Though Kanoko would like nothing more than to remain on the sidelines, she frequently becomes embroiled in her peers’ problems; they value her independent perspective, as Kanoko isn’t the least bit interested in dating, running for student council, or currying favor with the alpha clique. Kanoko’s sharp tongue and cool demeanor might make her the mean-girl villain in another shojo manga, but Ririko Tsujita embraces her heroine’s prickly, opinionated nature and makes it fundamental to Kanoko’s appeal. It’s a pity TOKYOPOP didn’t survive long enough to finish this three-volume series, as it’s one of the best shojo titles in recent memory.

8. WANDERING SON (Takako Shimura; Fantagraphics)

In her thoughtful review of volume one, Michelle Smith praised Takako Shimura’s deft use of perspective: “The main thing I kept thinking about while reading Wandering Son… is how things that seem insignificant to one person can be secretly, intensely significant to someone else.” Shimura’s ability to dramatize each character’s unique point of view is one of the reasons Wandering Son never feels preachy, even though the topic suggests an Afterschool Special; we are always exquisitely aware of the subtle but important changes in the way each character views herself, as well as her fears and hopes.

7. PRINCESS KNIGHT (Osamu Tezuka; Vertical, Inc.)

What Osamu Tezuka’s New Treasure Island (1946) was to shonen, his Princess Knight (1953-56) was to shojo: both were long-form adventure stories with cinematic flair. Neither could be said to be the “first” shonen or shojo manga, but both had a profound influence on the artists who came of age in the 1940s and 1950s, offering a new storytelling model for them to emulate. Viewed through a contemporary lens, Princess Knight hasn’t aged quite as well as New Treasure Island, as it’s saddled with some woefully antiquated notions of gender. At the same time, however, it’s easy to see why this story appealed to several generations of Japanese girls: Sapphire gets to eat her cake and have it too, having swashbuckling adventures *and* winning the hand of Prince Charming. –Reviewed at Manga Bookshelf on 11/21/11 and The Manga Critic on 12/19/10

6. TANK TANKURO: GAJO SAKAMOTO, MANGA’S PRE-WAR MASTER, 1934-35 (Gajo Sakamoto; Press Pop)

Almost twenty years before Osamu Tezuka’s Astro Boy took flight in the pages of Shonen Kobunsha magazine, Gajo Sakamoto’s Tank Tankuro enchanted Japanese youngsters with his monster-fighting exploits and cool gadgets. Though the series’ propaganda intent is impossible for contemporary readers to ignore — Tank fights the Chinese, who are portrayed in less-than-flattering terms — Presspop’s new anthology demonstrates that Sakamoto’s artistry has aged more gracefully than his storylines. Sakamoto’s work is packaged in a handsome, hardcover edition that includes thoughtful extras: a contextual essay by translator Sunsuke Nakazawa, an interview with Sakamoto’s son, and an article by Sakamoto himself, discussing the character’s origin.

5. STARGAZING DOG (Takashi Murakami; NBM/Comics Lit)

Consider yourself warned: Stargazing Dog is a five-hanky affair. The two interconnecting vignettes that comprise this slim volume explore the bond between Happie, a shiba inu, and Daddy, his owner. When Daddy loses his job, his home, and his family, he and Happie hit the road in search of a new life. Though the outcome of Happie and Daddy’s journey is never in doubt — we learn their fate in the opening pages of the book — Murakami draws the reader into their story with an honest and unsparing look at the human-dog compact that may remind cinephiles of Vittorio de Sica’s Umberto D. —Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 12/23/11

4. ONWARDS TOWARD OUR NOBLE DEATHS (Shigeru Mizuki; Drawn & Quarterly)

In this blistering indictment of Japanese militarism, Shigeru Mizuki draws on his own experiences during World War II to tell the story of a platoon stationed in Papua New Guinea. The soldiers face a terrible choice: fight a hopeless battle, or face execution for treason. Like many war stories, Onwards Toward Our Noble Deaths documents the tremendous human sacrifice of modern armed conflict: gruesome injuries, senseless deaths, devastated landscapes. What lends Mizuki’s narrative its special potency is his depiction of the senior officers; their perverse dedication to their mission turns them into tyrants, more concerned with saving face than saving their own soldiers’ skins. Essential reading for anyone interested in World War II.

3. THE DROPS OF GOD (Tadashi Agi and Shu Okimoto; Vertical, Inc.)

As Oishinbo handily demonstrated, a skilled writer can fold a considerable amount of educational detail into a story without reducing it to a textbook. The Drops of God follows a similar template, imparting highly specialized information about wine with the same natural ease that Law & Order illustrates the inner workings of a crime investigation. At the same time, however, Drops is a delicious soap opera, filled with domineering fathers, mustache-twirling villains, evil beauties, eccentric oenophiles, and down-on-their-luck restauranteurs. Even if the reader isn’t the least bit interested in wine, he’ll find the drama as irresistible as an episode of Dynasty. –Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 12/16/11

2. A ZOO IN WINTER (Jiro Taniguchi; Fanfare/Ponent Mon)

Drawing on his own experiences, Jiro Taniguchi spins an engaging tale about a young man who abandons a promising career in textile design for the opportunity to become a manga artist. Though the basic plot invites comparison with Bakuman, Taniguchi does more than just document important milestones in Hamaguchi’s career: he shows us how Hamaguchi’s emotional maturation informs every aspect of his artistry — something that’s missing from many other portrait-of-an-artist-as-a-young-man sagas, which place much greater emphasis on the pleasure of professional recognition than on the satisfaction of mastering one’s craft. Lovely, moody artwork and an appealing cast of supporting characters complete this very satisfying package.  —Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 5/28/11

1. A BRIDE’S STORY (Kaoru Mori; Yen Press)

A Bride’s Story, which takes place on the banks of the Caspian Sea, explores the relationship between Amir Halgal, a nineteen-year-old nomad, and Karluk Eihon, the eldest son of sheep herders. Though their marriage is one of political expedience, Amir is determined to be a good wife, doing her utmost to learn her new family’s customs, befriend the members of their extended clan, and earn her new husband’s respect. Kaoru Mori is as interested in observing Amir’s everyday life as she is in documenting the growing conflict between the Halgal and Eihon clans, yet A Bride’s Story is never dull, thanks to Mori’s smart, engaging dialogue; as she demonstrated in Emma and Shirley, Mori can make even the simplest moments revealing, whether her characters are preparing a manor house for the master’s return or skinning a freshly killed deer. By allowing her story to unfold in such a naturalistic fashion, A Bride’s Story manages to be both intimate and expansive, offering readers a window into life along the Silk Road. –Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 5/24/11

HONORABLE MENTIONS

As in previous years, I had difficulty limiting myself to just ten titles, so I compiled a list of manga that didn’t quite make my best-of list, but were thoroughly enjoyable:

  • OTHER AWESOME DEBUTS: The Book of Human Insects (Vertical, Inc.), Tesoro (VIZ)
  • BEST CONTINUING SERIES: 20th Century Boys (VIZ), Bunny Drop (Yen Press), Chi’s Sweet Home (Vertical, Inc.), Cross Game (VIZ), Ooku: The Inner Chambers (VIZ), Twin Spica (Vertical, Inc.)
  • BEST NEW GUILTY PLEASURE: Blue Exorcist (VIZ), Oresama Teacher (VIZ)
  • BEST REPRINT EDITION: Magic Knight Rayearth (Dark Horse), Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Kodansha Comics)
  • BEST MANGA I THOUGHT I’D HATE: Cage of Eden (Kodansha Comics)
  • BEST FINALE: Black Jack, Vol. 17 (Vertical, Inc.)

So now I turn the floor over to you, readers: what were your favorite new manga of 2011?

Filed Under: Manga Critic Tagged With: Drawn & Quarterly, Fanfare/Ponent Mon, fantagraphics, Gajo Sakamoto, Jiro Taniguchi, Kaoru Mori, NBM/Comics Lit, One Peace Books, Osamu Tezuka, PressPop, Shigeru, Tokyopop, vertical, yen press

The Best Manga of 2011: The Manga Critic’s Picks

December 31, 2011 by Katherine Dacey

The usual gambit for introducing a year-end list is to remark on the abundance of good titles, acknowledge the difficulty in choosing just ten (or five, or three), and comment on the overall state of the industry. And while I certainly debated what to include on my list, I’ll be honest: 2011 yielded fewer contenders for Best Manga than any other year I’ve covered. The dearth of new titles was attributable to publishers’ financial prudence; companies released fewer books, licensed fewer series, and focused on repackaging older content for budget-conscious consumers. And though I selfishly wish that more new material had been released this year, I think manga publishers have done an excellent job of responding to their biggest challenges: a sluggish economy, digital piracy, and Borders’ bankruptcy.

So what titles made my 2011 list? My top ten are below, along with my list of favorite continuing series, favorite finales, and favorite guilty pleasures.

10. BREATHE DEEPLY (Yamaaki Doton; One Peace Books)

Part sci-fi thriller, part coming-of-age story, this engrossing drama examines the relationship between two young men: Sei, who grew up in a world of privilege, and Oishi, a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Both Sei and Oishi fall in love with Yuko, a sickly girl whose incurable illness inspires her suitors to become medical researchers. In less capable hands, Breathe Deeply might have been a mawkish paean to the purity of young love, but the husband-and-wife team of Yamaaki Doton have a keen ear for dialogue; the interactions between Yuko and her two suitors are tinged with an authentic mixture of adolescent anxiety, sexual longing, and braggadocio. Clean, expressive artwork and well-rounded characters help sell the story, especially in its final pages. One of 2011’s best surprises.

9. THE SECRET NOTES OF LADY KANOKO (Ririko Tsujita; Tokyopop)

Kanoko, the sardonic heroine of The Secret Notes of Lady Kanoko, is a student of human behavior, gleefully filling her notebooks with detailed observations about her classmates. Though Kanoko would like nothing more than to remain on the sidelines, she frequently becomes embroiled in her peers’ problems; they value her independent perspective, as Kanoko isn’t the least bit interested in dating, running for student council, or currying favor with the alpha clique. Kanoko’s sharp tongue and cool demeanor might make her the mean-girl villain in another shojo manga, but Ririko Tsujita embraces her heroine’s prickly, opinionated nature and makes it fundamental to Kanoko’s appeal. It’s a pity TOKYOPOP didn’t survive long enough to finish this three-volume series, as it’s one of the best shojo titles in recent memory.

8. WANDERING SON (Takako Shimura; Fantagraphics)

In her thoughtful review of volume one, Michelle Smith praised Takako Shimura’s deft use of perspective: “The main thing I kept thinking about while reading Wandering Son… is how things that seem insignificant to one person can be secretly, intensely significant to someone else.” Shimura’s ability to dramatize each character’s unique point of view is one of the reasons Wandering Son never feels preachy, even though the topic suggests an Afterschool Special; we are always exquisitely aware of the subtle but important changes in the way each character views herself, as well as her fears and hopes.

7. PRINCESS KNIGHT (Osamu Tezuka; Vertical, Inc.)

What Osamu Tezuka’s New Treasure Island (1946) was to shonen, his Princess Knight (1953-56) was to shojo: both were long-form adventure stories with cinematic flair. Neither could be said to be the “first” shonen or shojo manga, but both had a profound influence on the artists who came of age in the 1940s and 1950s, offering a new storytelling model for them to emulate. Viewed through a contemporary lens, Princess Knight hasn’t aged quite as well as New Treasure Island, as it’s saddled with some woefully antiquated notions of gender. At the same time, however, it’s easy to see why this story appealed to several generations of Japanese girls: Sapphire gets to eat her cake and have it too, having swashbuckling adventures *and* winning the hand of Prince Charming. —Reviewed at Manga Bookshelf on 11/21/11 and The Manga Critic on 12/19/10

6. TANK TANKURO: GAJO SAKAMOTO, MANGA’S PRE-WAR MASTER, 1934-35 (Gajo Sakamoto; Press Pop)

Almost twenty years before Osamu Tezuka’s Astro Boy took flight in the pages of Shonen Kobunsha magazine, Gajo Sakamoto’s Tank Tankuro enchanted Japanese youngsters with his monster-fighting exploits and cool gadgets. Though the series’ propaganda intent is impossible for contemporary readers to ignore — Tank fights the Chinese, who are portrayed in less-than-flattering terms — Presspop’s new anthology demonstrates that Sakamoto’s artistry has aged more gracefully than his storylines. Sakamoto’s work is packaged in a handsome, hardcover edition that includes thoughtful extras: a contextual essay by translator Sunsuke Nakazawa, an interview with Sakamoto’s son, and an article by Sakamoto himself, discussing the character’s origin.

5. STARGAZING DOG (Takashi Murakami; NBM/Comics Lit)

Consider yourself warned: Stargazing Dog is a five-hanky affair. The two interconnecting vignettes that comprise this slim volume explore the bond between Happie, a shiba inu, and Daddy, his owner. When Daddy loses his job, his home, and his family, he and Happie hit the road in search of a new life. Though the outcome of Happie and Daddy’s journey is never in doubt — we learn their fate in the opening pages of the book — Murakami draws the reader into their story with an honest and unsparing look at the human-dog compact that may remind cinephiles of Vittorio de Sica’s Umberto D. —Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 12/23/11

4. ONWARDS TOWARD OUR NOBLE DEATHS (Shigeru Mizuki; Drawn & Quarterly)

In this blistering indictment of Japanese militarism, Shigeru Mizuki draws on his own experiences during World War II to tell the story of a platoon stationed in Papua New Guinea. The soldiers face a terrible choice: fight a hopeless battle, or face execution for treason. Like many war stories, Onwards Toward Our Noble Deaths documents the tremendous human sacrifice of modern armed conflict: gruesome injuries, senseless deaths, devastated landscapes. What lends Mizuki’s narrative its special potency is his depiction of the senior officers; their perverse dedication to their mission turns them into tyrants, more concerned with saving face than saving their own soldiers’ skins. Essential reading for anyone interested in World War II.

3. THE DROPS OF GOD (Tadashi Agi and Shu Okimoto; Vertical, Inc.)

As Oishinbo handily demonstrated, a skilled writer can fold a considerable amount of educational detail into a story without reducing it to a textbook. The Drops of God follows a similar template, imparting highly specialized information about wine with the same natural ease that Law & Order illustrates the inner workings of a crime investigation. At the same time, however, Drops is a delicious soap opera, filled with domineering fathers, mustache-twirling villains, evil beauties, eccentric oenophiles, and down-on-their-luck restauranteurs. Even if the reader isn’t the least bit interested in wine, he’ll find the drama as irresistible as an episode of Dynasty. —Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 12/16/11

2. A ZOO IN WINTER (Jiro Taniguchi; Fanfare/Ponent Mon)

Drawing on his own experiences, Jiro Taniguchi spins an engaging tale about a young man who abandons a promising career in textile design for the opportunity to become a manga artist. Though the basic plot invites comparison with Bakuman, Taniguchi does more than just document important milestones in Hamaguchi’s career: he shows us how Hamaguchi’s emotional maturation informs every aspect of his artistry — something that’s missing from many other portrait-of-an-artist-as-a-young-man sagas, which place much greater emphasis on the pleasure of professional recognition than on the satisfaction of mastering one’s craft. Lovely, moody artwork and an appealing cast of supporting characters complete this very satisfying package.  —Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 5/28/11

1. A BRIDE’S STORY (Kaoru Mori; Yen Press)

A Bride’s Story, which takes place on the banks of the Caspian Sea, explores the relationship between Amir Halgal, a nineteen-year-old nomad, and Karluk Eihon, the eldest son of sheep herders. Though their marriage is one of political expedience, Amir is determined to be a good wife, doing her utmost to learn her new family’s customs, befriend the members of their extended clan, and earn her new husband’s respect. Kaoru Mori is as interested in observing Amir’s everyday life as she is in documenting the growing conflict between the Halgal and Eihon clans, yet A Bride’s Story is never dull, thanks to Mori’s smart, engaging dialogue; as she demonstrated in Emma and Shirley, Mori can make even the simplest moments revealing, whether her characters are preparing a manor house for the master’s return or skinning a freshly killed deer. By allowing her story to unfold in such a naturalistic fashion, A Bride’s Story manages to be both intimate and expansive, offering readers a window into life along the Silk Road. —Reviewed at The Manga Critic on 5/24/11

HONORABLE MENTIONS

As in previous years, I had difficulty limiting myself to just ten titles, so I compiled a list of manga that didn’t quite make my best-of list, but were thoroughly enjoyable:

  • OTHER AWESOME DEBUTS: The Book of Human Insects (Vertical, Inc.), Tesoro (VIZ)
  • BEST CONTINUING SERIES: 20th Century Boys (VIZ), Bunny Drop (Yen Press), Chi’s Sweet Home (Vertical, Inc.), Cross Game (VIZ), Ooku: The Inner Chambers (VIZ), Twin Spica (Vertical, Inc.)
  • BEST NEW GUILTY PLEASURE: Blue Exorcist (VIZ), Oresama Teacher (VIZ)
  • BEST REPRINT EDITION: Magic Knight Rayearth (Dark Horse), Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Kodansha Comics)
  • BEST MANGA I THOUGHT I’D HATE: Cage of Eden (Kodansha Comics)
  • BEST FINALE: Black Jack, Vol. 17 (Vertical, Inc.)

So now I turn the floor over to you, readers: what were your favorite new manga of 2011?

Filed Under: Classic Manga Critic, Manga Critic, Recommended Reading Tagged With: Drawn & Quarterly, Fanfare/Ponent Mon, fantagraphics, Gajo Sakamoto, Jiro Taniguchi, Kaoru Mori, NBM/Comics Lit, One Peace Books, Osamu Tezuka, PressPop, Shigeru, Tokyopop, vertical, yen press

A Zoo in Winter

May 28, 2011 by Katherine Dacey

One of the best-selling manga in the US right now is Bakuman, a drama about two teens trying to break into the Japanese comics industry. Flipping through the first two volumes, it’s easy to see why the series has such an ardent following: Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata have portrayed the characters’ journey not as an aesthetic or introspective process, but as an adventure story in which the boys battle progressively more talented opponents while they work toward their ultimate goal of creating a hit series.

For all its lip service to perseverance and craft, Bakuman is, at heart, a fantasy that trumpets youth, native ability, and confidence as the keys to artistic success. To be sure, Ohba and Obata make a concerted effort to show their characters engaged in the less dramatic aspects of manga-making: brainstorming story ideas, working with an editor, experimenting with unfamiliar tools. These scenes aren’t really meant to chart the boys’ growth as artists, however, but to reinforce the idea that Mashiro and Takagi are naturals.

Jiro Taniguchi’s forthcoming A Zoo in Winter offers a very different perspective on breaking into the manga industry, one in which the principle character engages in a long, complicated, and frequently humbling process of refining his skills. When we first meet seventeen-year-old Mitsuo Hamaguchi, he’s working at a manufacturing company, contemplating a future designing textiles while harboring dreams of becoming an artist. Hamaguchi spends his free time sketching animals at the local zoo, and chaperoning his boss’ wayward daughter on excursions around town.

At loose ends, Hamaguchi visits Tokyo on a whim, landing a position as an assistant to popular manga-ka Shiro Kondo. The work is anything but glamorous: Hamaguchi frequently pulls all-nighters, erasing pencil marks, blacking in objects, drawing speedlines, and copying backgrounds from other assistants’ drawings. Working on Kondo’s manga rekindles Hamaguchi’s own childhood ambition to become an artist, inspiring Hamaguchi to take live drawing classes and start work on his own story — a goal that proves more elusive than Hamaguchi imagined.

Hamaguchi’s emotional development is as fitful as his artistic. Though he’s savoring his independence, he frequently reverts to adolescent behavior whenever he hits a roadblock, wallowing in self-pity when another assistant seems poised to get his big break, for example, or drinking himself into a stupor when his girlfriend moves away. Hamaguchi’s relationship with his older brother is particularly telling: separated by ten years, Hamaguchi continues to view him as a father figure, squirming in embarrassment when his brother visits Kondo’s studio. (“Please, brother, try to mind your own business,” Hamaguchi pleads.) As their visit progresses, however, Hamaguchi marvels at his brother’s ability to chat up Kondo and mix with the bohemian element at the assistants’ favorite dive-bar, gradually realizing that his older brother isn’t as judgmental or rigid as Hamaguchi assumed, just deeply concerned with the family’s welfare.

In another artist’s hands, Hamaguchi’s brother might have been a sterner figure, one who dismissed an artistic career as a frivolous or irresponsible choice. Yet Jiro Taniguchi resists the temptation to make Hamaguchi’s brother into a straw man, instead allowing Hamaguchi to discover his brother’s relaxed decency for himself; Hamaguchi’s epiphany is a small one, but one that brings him a few steps closer to adulthood. Taniguchi manages the difficult feat of honoring the sincerity of Hamaguchi’s feelings while creating emotional distance between Hamaguchi and the reader; we’re not invited to experience Hamaguchi’s embarrassment so much as remember what it was like to learn that our parents were, in fact, just like all the other adults we knew and liked.

What makes these passages even more effective is Taniguchi’s draftsmanship. Though he has always been a superb illustrator, capable of evoking the bustling sprawl of a Japanese city or the craggy face of a mountain, his characters’ faces often had an impassive, Noh-mask quality. In Zoo in Winter, however, the characters’ facial expressions are rendered with the same precision he usually reserves for landscapes and interiors, capturing subtle shifts in their attitudes and emotions. Not that Taniguchi neglects the urban environment; one of the manga’s loveliest sequences unfolds in a zoo on a snowy day. Anyone who’s had the experience of running in Central Park on a rainy November afternoon, or walking a winter beach will immediately recognize Hamaguchi’s elation at having the zoo to himself, and of seeing the landscape transformed by the weather.

It’s the subtlety of the characterizations, however, that will remain with readers long after they’ve finished A Zoo in Winter. The story does more than just dramatize Hamaguchi’s journey from adolescence to adulthood; it shows us how his emotional maturation informs every aspect of his artistry — something that’s missing from many other portrait-of-an-artist-as-a-young-man sagas, which place much greater emphasis on the pleasure of professional recognition than on the satisfaction of mastering one’s craft. To be fair, Ohba and Obata address the issue of craft in Bakuman, but I’ll take the quiet honesty of A Zoo in Winter over the sound and fury of a Shonen Jump title any day. Highly recommended.

Review copy provided by Fanfare/Ponent Mon. A Zoo in Winter will be released on June 23, 2011.

A ZOO IN WINTER • BY JIRO TANIGUCHI • FANFARE/PONENT MON • 232 pp.

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Fanfare/Ponent Mon, Jiro Taniguchi, Seinen

A Zoo in Winter

May 28, 2011 by Katherine Dacey 19 Comments

One of the best-selling manga in the US right now is Bakuman, a drama about two teens trying to break into the Japanese comics industry. Flipping through the first two volumes, it’s easy to see why the series has such an ardent following: Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata have portrayed the characters’ journey not as an aesthetic or introspective process, but as an adventure story in which the boys battle progressively more talented opponents while they work toward their ultimate goal of creating a hit series.

For all its lip service to perseverance and craft, Bakuman is, at heart, a fantasy that trumpets youth, native ability, and confidence as the keys to artistic success. To be sure, Ohba and Obata make a concerted effort to show their characters engaged in the less dramatic aspects of manga-making: brainstorming story ideas, working with an editor, experimenting with unfamiliar tools. These scenes aren’t really meant to chart the boys’ growth as artists, however, but to reinforce the idea that Mashiro and Takagi are naturals.

Jiro Taniguchi’s forthcoming A Zoo in Winter offers a very different perspective on breaking into the manga industry, one in which the principle character engages in a long, complicated, and frequently humbling process of refining his skills. When we first meet seventeen-year-old Mitsuo Hamaguchi, he’s working at a manufacturing company, contemplating a future designing textiles while harboring dreams of becoming an artist. Hamaguchi spends his free time sketching animals at the local zoo, and chaperoning his boss’ wayward daughter on excursions around town.

At loose ends, Hamaguchi visits Tokyo on a whim, landing a position as an assistant to popular manga-ka Shiro Kondo. The work is anything but glamorous: Hamaguchi frequently pulls all-nighters, erasing pencil marks, blacking in objects, drawing speedlines, and copying backgrounds from other assistants’ drawings. Working on Kondo’s manga rekindles Hamaguchi’s own childhood ambition to become an artist, inspiring Hamaguchi to take live drawing classes and start work on his own story — a goal that proves more elusive than Hamaguchi imagined.

Hamaguchi’s emotional development is as fitful as his artistic. Though he’s savoring his independence, he frequently reverts to adolescent behavior whenever he hits a roadblock, wallowing in self-pity when another assistant seems poised to get his big break, for example, or drinking himself into a stupor when his girlfriend moves away. Hamaguchi’s relationship with his older brother is particularly telling: separated by ten years, Hamaguchi continues to view him as a father figure, squirming in embarrassment when his brother visits Kondo’s studio. (“Please, brother, try to mind your own business,” Hamaguchi pleads.) As their visit progresses, however, Hamaguchi marvels at his brother’s ability to chat up Kondo and mix with the bohemian element at the assistants’ favorite dive-bar, gradually realizing that his older brother isn’t as judgmental or rigid as Hamaguchi assumed, just deeply concerned with the family’s welfare.

In another artist’s hands, Hamaguchi’s brother might have been a sterner figure, one who dismissed an artistic career as a frivolous or irresponsible choice. Yet Jiro Taniguchi resists the temptation to make Hamaguchi’s brother into a straw man, instead allowing Hamaguchi to discover his brother’s relaxed decency for himself; Hamaguchi’s epiphany is a small one, but one that brings him a few steps closer to adulthood. Taniguchi manages the difficult feat of honoring the sincerity of Hamaguchi’s feelings while creating emotional distance between Hamaguchi and the reader; we’re not invited to experience Hamaguchi’s embarrassment so much as remember what it was like to learn that our parents were, in fact, just like all the other adults we knew and liked.

What makes these passages even more effective is Taniguchi’s draftsmanship. Though he has always been a superb illustrator, capable of evoking the bustling sprawl of a Japanese city or the craggy face of a mountain, his characters’ faces often had an impassive, Noh-mask quality. In Zoo in Winter, however, the characters’ facial expressions are rendered with the same precision he usually reserves for landscapes and interiors, capturing subtle shifts in their attitudes and emotions. Not that Taniguchi neglects the urban environment; one of the manga’s loveliest sequences unfolds in a zoo on a snowy day. Anyone who’s had the experience of running in Central Park on a rainy November afternoon, or walking a winter beach will immediately recognize Hamaguchi’s elation at having the zoo to himself, and of seeing the landscape transformed by the weather.

It’s the subtlety of the characterizations, however, that will remain with readers long after they’ve finished A Zoo in Winter. The story does more than just dramatize Hamaguchi’s journey from adolescence to adulthood; it shows us how his emotional maturation informs every aspect of his artistry — something that’s missing from many other portrait-of-an-artist-as-a-young-man sagas, which place much greater emphasis on the pleasure of professional recognition than on the satisfaction of mastering one’s craft. To be fair, Ohba and Obata address the issue of craft in Bakuman, but I’ll take the quiet honesty of A Zoo in Winter over the sound and fury of a Shonen Jump title any day. Highly recommended.

Review copy provided by Fanfare/Ponent Mon. A Zoo in Winter will be released on June 23, 2011.

A ZOO IN WINTER • BY JIRO TANIGUCHI • FANFARE/PONENT MON • 232 pp.

Filed Under: Manga Critic Tagged With: Fanfare/Ponent Mon, Jiro Taniguchi, Seinen

Manga Artifacts: Hotel Harbour View

January 14, 2011 by Katherine Dacey 12 Comments

Back in 1990, before anyone had hit on the magic formula for selling manga to American readers, VIZ tried a bold experiment. They released a handful of titles in a prestige format with fancy covers, high-quality paper, and a large trim size, and called them “Viz Spectrum Editions.” Only three manga got the Viz Spectrum treatment: Yu Kinutani’s Shion: Blade of the Minstrel, Yukinobu Hoshino’s Saber Tiger, and Natsuo Sekikawa and Jiro Taniguchi’s Hotel Harbour View. While neither the imprint nor the format survived, these three titles helped pave the way for VIZ’s later efforts to establish its Signature line.

Hotel Harbour View, by far the strongest of the three, is a stylish foray into hard-boiled crime fiction. In the title story, a man patronizes a once-elegant bar in Hong Kong, telling the bartender that he’s waiting for the person who’s supposed to kill him, while in the second story, “A Brief Encounter,” an assassin returns to Paris, where his former associates — including his protege — lie in wait for him.

As editor Fred Burke observes in his afterword, both stories are as much about style and genre as they are about exploring what motivates people to kill. The characters in both stories are deeply concerned with scripting their own lives, of behaving the way hit men and high-class call girls do in the movies. None of them wear simple street clothes; all of them are in costume, wearing gloves and suits and garter belts. (In one scene, for example, an assassin asks a bystander to hand him his hat, even though he lies dying in a pool of blood. “Just don’t feel right without it,” he explains.) Their words, too, are carefully chosen; every conversation has the kind of pointed quality of a Dashiell Hammett script, with characters trading quips and telling well-rehearsed stories about their past. A brief surveillance operation, for example, yields this tersely wonderful exchange between two female assassins:

“She’s French, isn’t she? Parisienne.”
“How can you tell?”
“She looks arrogant and stubborn. The sort who ruins men.”
“He loves her. That’s why he came back to Paris.”
“And how can you tell?”
“I’m a Parisienne, too.”

[As an aside, I should note that Gerard Jones and Matt Thorn’s excellent translation brings Sekikawa’s script to life in English; each character has a distinctive voice, and the dialogue is thoroughly idiomatic.]

The violence has a cinematic flavor as well; Taniguchi’s balletic gunfights call to mind the kind of technically dazzling shoot-outs that became a staple of John Woo’s filmmaking in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Taniguchi uses many of the same tricks. He follows a bullet’s trajectory from the gun barrel to its point of impact, showing us the victim’s terrified face as the bullet closes in on its target; stages elaborate duels in which passing trains demand split-second timing from the well-armed participants; and shows us a hit gone bad from dozens of different angles. In one the book’s most stylish sequences, we see a gunman’s reflection in a shattered mirror; as the “camera” pulls back from that initial image, we realize that we’re seeing things from the killer’s point of view, not the gunman’s. A dramatic cascade of glass destroys his reflection as he slumps to the floor — a perfect movie ending for a character obsessed with orchestrating his own death.

Like Taniguchi’s other work, there’s a slightly stiff quality to the artwork. His characters are drawn with meticulous attention to detail, yet their faces remain impassive even when bullets fly and old lovers betray them. That detachment can be frustrating in other contexts, but in Hotel Harbour View it registers as sang-froid; the characters’ composure is as essential to their performances as their costumes and studied banter, as each self-consciously fulfills their role in the drama.

Though Hotel Harbour View is out of print, copies are still widely available through online retailers; I ordered mine directly from Amazon. You’ll also find a robust market for second-hand copies; expect to pay between $4.00 and $20.00 for a copy in good to excellent condition.

Manga Artifacts is a monthly feature exploring older, out-of-print manga published in the 1980s and 1990s. For a fuller description of the series’ purpose, see the inaugural column.

HOTEL HARBOUR VIEW • SCRIPT BY NATSUO SEKIKAWA, ART BY JIRO TANIGUCHI • VIZ MEDIA • 94 pp. • RATING: MATURE (18+)

Filed Under: Manga Critic Tagged With: Jiro Taniguchi, Seinen, VIZ

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