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The Manga Critic’s Guide to Jiro Taniguchi

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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

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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.

Pick of the Week: JManga Scramble

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With a distinct lack of new print manga available in stores this week, we thought we’d take the opportunity to recommend a few last-ditch titles from soon-to-expire digital publisher JManga. If you’ve got extra points to spend and are looking for a great, last-minute read, here are a few titles to consider!

ANNA: I’m always on the lookout for more josei manga, and while I was disappointed in the variety of genres Jmanga offered at its initial launch, I was pleasantly surprised when I saw more Harlequin romance, Ohzora, and josei titles popping up in the months to follow. The title I was most excited to see was the fourth volume of Walkin Butterfly 4. I collected the earlier print volumes and was so happy to be able to read the end of the series on Jmanga. While there are series left unfinished with Jmanga’s closure, I feel it is good to celebrate some of the series that Jmanga finished! Walkin’ Butterfly is the story of a tall misfit tomboy named Michiko who begins to find herself when she accidentally becomes part of the fashion world. Her relationship with the temperamental up and coming designer Mihara changes them both, and the series shows how she transforms herself in an atypical way for an ugly duckling becoming a swan type story. Tamaki’s illustrations convey the world of modeling and fashion in an edgy way – while there are occasional flashes of elegance, this is much grittier than the stylized fashion portrayed in a title like Paradise Kiss. walkinb
SEAN: I think I’ve banged the gong for Wonder! and High School Girls enough, so I’ll note that my favorite aspect of JManga was that they could pick up some of the weirdest titles. Not just normal seinen weird like Ninja Papa or Anesthesiologist Hana, but stuff that no one else would license in a million years. Things like Young-kun, a stick-figure 4-koma that I still don’t think I ever understood, or Edo Nekoe Jubei Otogizoshi, a mystery-solving cat manga from Shonen Gahosha’s magazine of cat manga. And of course there was a pile of yuri titles that fans have been wanting for years, from Love My Life to Poor Poor Lips to YuruYuri. The saddest thing is that there was simply too much content I wanted to read, and I may never get the time to now. But man, it was great content. edo
MICHELLE: If there was just one title that I’d recommend people read while they have the chance, it would be est em’s Working Kentauros. Here’s what I said about it in a Going Digital column from last year: “Like the best speculative fiction, est em uses her offbeat “centaurs in the workplace” concept to communicate universal truths. Everyone wants to be free to be themselves, and no one wants to watch someone they love get sick and pass away. Even if they happen to be a centaur. Highly, highly recommended.” kent
MJ: Many of my favorite series at JManga are hard to recommend at this juncture, simply because they’re unfinished. As much as I adore titles like Sweet Blue Flowers, Dousei Ai, or Pride, I can’t wholeheartedly recommend that anyone sign themselves up for that kind of heartbreak. One of my long-touted BL favorites, however, is Haruko Kumota My Darling Kitten Hair, which, though unfinished, is so committed to its low-key, slice-of-life format that it’s guaranteed to offer no lingering angst or nail-biting cliffhangers. From my review of the second volume: “It’s so rare to read a BL series (or any relationship-driven story) that is about staying in love rather than falling in love, and there’s a reason for that. It’s hard! As difficult as it can be to write authentic, well-developed romance, much like actual romance, it’s even harder to keep that fire burning after the initial rush of first love. Thankfully, My Darling Kitten Hair stands as a lovely example of how to do exactly that. And it’s a real pleasure to read.” Two volumes are available. kittenhair

Readers, any last-ditch JManga titles you’d recommend?

Adventures in the Key of Shoujo: A Kiss on Tearful Cheeks, Vol.1

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A Kiss on Tearful Cheeks | By Tsumugi (Story), Yukie Sasaki (Art) | Published by JManga.com | Rated: Teen Plus

Don’t Let The Sun Catch You Crying might be the perfect anthem for the heroine of A Kiss on Tearful Cheeks, Iori Narazaki. She is constantly upset by the little things, not the big things. She’s never been in love because her feelings never lasted. Mam and Dad are abroad so big sister Shiori takes care of her. Shiori works in a publishing company and Iori, 17, goes to school. One day she is crying after being dropped off at school when a young man named Yusuke Izumi asks her if she’s alright. After revealing that he works in the same company as Shiori, and also knows her, Yusuke gives her his card and says if she’s ever crying again to call him. Iori toys with the idea of contacting him but doesn’t, and after being set up on a date by her best friend, Megu, seems to like the guy Megu set her up with. Unfortunately, the date turns out to be a lesser example of the male sex and when things look bad for Iori, Yusuke suddenly turns up and rescues her. So, Iori begins to think that this feeling she has when she thinks of Yusuke might not be so bad.

The best thing about this title for me upon starting it is that it is a million miles away from my usual fare for the column. It’s entirely contemporary and set in the here and now. Iori is a bit of a crybaby but she isn’t helpless. She has a bad case of poor self-esteem, that’s all. She really wishes that people wouldn’t have to worry about her. She always wonders why she isn’t like her sister, for example. But when Yusuke comes into her life, it really does transform things around her. He wants her only because of her not because he grew up with her, or is best friends with her or is related to her. And Yusuke, aside from one or two odd bits of behaviour, doesn’t want to pressure her into doing something she doesn’t want to. Simply put, he is enchanted with her and she’s smitten with him.

Now, as I said, there are one or two quirks of behaviour on Yusuke’s part that I don’t get as they seem slightly at odds with the rest of his makeup. One, he gets intensely jealous whenever other boys Iori knows pay attention to her. He’s only known the girl a wet week and already he’s jealous? Second, after he and Iori decide to get together, he keeps leaving love bites on her body. And refers to them as his mark. Hmm, I don’t understand that. Now, if he didn’t have positive attributes like not wanting to push her into having sex with him (every bloke worth his salt should come with this way of thinking as a standard part) or explaining himself when he does get jealous, this would be a different kind of story. One thing about the way Iori is written that doesn’t sit very well with me is she, twice in a row, gets into a situation where really creepy lads try to maul her (thats’s the best way I can put it) and twice Yusuke rescues her. Does she really need him to rescue her? So little of her psychological makeup is described in this first volume, I worry that it will become an “Oh, no! I’m being attacked! Save me, Yusuke!” trope of the story. The authors are not helping matters by using Iori in this way, because they have a person she barely knows attack her and then has a person she has known all her life attack her. What does that say about girls in Japan? No matter what they say, you can have your way with them? I really worry about that kind of message.

Maybe I’m projecting too many of my own insecurities about messages like that in this review. If I am, consciously or unconsciously, I apologise as the series has a lot of potential. The best bits in this are the moments when Iori and Yusuke are with each other and we hear Iori’s innermost thoughts. These are the thoughts of a person who doesn’t know where she and he are going but after living a life of uncast doubts, she wants this feeling she gets around Yusuke. Wants it more than anything. Come hell or high water. Come laughter, scares and yes, even the tears. I think some of us can relate to this feeling. Hell, I know I’ve been in throes of such a feeling and having and wanting no way out. It could all turn to cat poop in five minutes. Iori doesn’t seem to care. Much like the lyrics of the above mentioned song, Iori doesn’t mind crying now because now she’s not crying about nothing, she’s crying about a feeling she’s got and that’s not a bad thing.

Yukie Sasaki’s art is somewhat refined but the joy here is the long delicate features of her characters, their huge expressive eyes, and the unfinished look to things. It makes for a uneven mess, but it’s a lovely mess for my money. Tsumugi, the author, really needs to decide where her main characters mental tics should settle. Plus the mixed messages thing about Iori being a target for every guy that’s not Yusuke needs to end, full stop. Other than that, I’m happy to keep going.

This is my first review for Manga BookShelf using the JManga platform, though I would humbly ask that you check out the rest of the writers on Manga Bookshelf for a better view of the service as a whole. I like JManga, not enough to say it’s a perfect system because it’s not. There are parts of it I would change. They are starting to address the pricing problems of the original setup of the website. And yes, universal access to all titles, regardless of geography, is an absolute must. But for titles like A Kiss… there is simply no way it would ever be released by a print publisher. Sadly, the market just won’t support it. So, I am looking forward to buying more of A Kiss… but I would ask the people at JManga to bring over the rest of the series as there are only three volumes of nine available. Incomplete series make no money no matter how loyal their readers are.

Question time: Given how much fun I had with JManga, would you like me to take a break from Sailor Moon more often and do stuff like A Kiss…? I know that a few of you had said initially that doing Sailor Moon alone was not the end all and be all of shoujo and I do see that. Seeing as I can’t spend all that much on manga these days (Google: Irish economic problems. Not being sarcastic here.), what would you like more of? Stuff like A Kiss… and Skip Beat or more fantasy stuff like Sakura Hime or Sailor Moon? With it ending in 7 or so more volumes and I’m having so much fun on the column that I don’t want to dry up when I finish on SM. Comments and emails are welcome in this endeavour.

Going Digital: November 2012

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Welcome to the latest Going Digital, Manga Bookshelf’s monthly feature focusing on manga available for digital viewing or download. Each month, the Manga Bookshelf bloggers review a selection of comics we’ve read on our computers, phones, or tablet devices, to give readers a taste of what’s out there, old and new, and how well it works in digital form.

It’s all-browser, all the time this month, as MJtest drives JManga7 and Sean and Michelle take a look at some recent releases from JManga and VIZ. Device, OS, and browser information is included with each review as appropriate, to let you know exactly how we accessed what we read.


Platform

Test Drive: JManga7.com

It’s no secret that we’re pretty big fans of JManga.com here at Manga Bookshelf. Their ability to provide access to a wide variety of manga coupled with competitive pricing and an attentive ear to customer concerns has proven to more than make up for the service’s weak points—inconsistent translation quality and (so far) limited delivery options, to name a couple. Particularly for those of us who like epic, older shoujo, smart josei, idiosyncratic one-shots, or really anything in the yuri catalogue, JManga has been something of a miracle in terms of providing us much longed-for content we’d lost hope of ever seeing in print.

Just before New York Comic Con this year, JManga announced a new website, JManga7, where fans could read a rotating selection of free older chapters of their ongoing series each week, with the option to read the most recent chapters for a monthly subscription fee of $5.99. What does $5.99 buy you? Let’s find out!

The Good

JManga7’s catalogue is large and growing consistently, with new chapters arriving seven days a week. (JManga7, get it?) Heavy release days, such as Thursdays (pictured below), provide an abundance of new content for subscribers with wide-ranging tastes (and at least something for pickier readers each day). In the week I looked at, 48 new chapters were offered over the course of the week.

(click images to enlarge)

Though JManga7 suffers from the same limited delivery options as its sister site, its flash-based reader looks pretty good, loads quickly, and is easy to navigate.

Like most flash-based manga readers, JManga7 offers left and right arrows (that appear on mouseover) for quick page-to-page navigation, as well as the ability to see and skip to any page in the chapter. Links to buy full volumes at JManga are strategically placed at the top of each page.

The Less Good

Though JManga7’s catalogue looks fantastic at first glance, some titles (like Yukari Ichigo’s josei series Pride, which I clicked on excitedly, and another Shueisha favorite Crazy for You) seem to be a bit of a tease, offering only a few sample chapters and nothing more. Oddly, too, text that encourages the purchase of full volumes at JManga offers no direct link to do so. Even the offer to “Be the first to review this series!” is a hollow one, as attempts to click reveal it to be nothing more than static text.

Even titles with premium chapters available may prove disappointing for existing JManga customers. For instance, Setona Mizushiro’s BL epic Dousei Ai has chapters 10-14 currently available to premium JManga7 subscribers only. While this works well for new customers, fans who have already been buying the series at JManga (where it is currently available up to chapter 32) will find nothing new at JManga7. And while it’s obvious that part of JManga’s strategy is to encourage JManga7 fans to buy the full volumes, that leaves little incentive for existing fans to sign up for premium access.

Bottom Line

Much like JManga at the time of its initial launch, JManga7 feels a bit half-finished—burdened with features that appear to be not-quite-there and teaser content bulking up its fledgling catalogue. And though $5.99 a month is actually a pretty great deal for new readers who prefer low-committment, serialized content over serious collection, existing fans of JManga may be wondering what’s in it for them. – MJ


Web Browser

Rurouni Kenshin: Restoration, Chapters 1-5 | By Nobuhiro Watsuki | VIZ Media | Shonen Jump Alpha/VizManga.com | Windows 7, SeaMonkey 2.4.1 – Undoubtedly, there are bigger fans of Rurouni Kenshin than I, but it’s still a series for which I hold a great deal of fondness. I vividly remember picking up each volume of the manga as it was published each month (the first series to get that kind of accelerated release, I believe), and greatly enjoyed the anime, as well. (Well, not the often-atrocious filler episodes.) I firmly believe that the “Kyoto Arc” is one of the best storylines ever executed in shounen manga, and if other portions of the series were less well-done… well, I was inclined to be tolerant.

But now, here we have Rurouni Kenshin: Restoration. According to Shonen Jump Alpha‘s blurb, “To celebrate the upcoming live-action movie, Nobuhiro Watsuki reinvents the classic Rurouni Kenshin manga with all-new twists and turns.” I can understand why Watsuki might want to undertake such a project. In the first place, he’s never been able to replicate the success he had with Kenshin, and in the second, the original series does get off to a pretty slow start.

Restoration remedies this last issue by taking various shortcuts. Kenshin, Kaoru, and Yahiko meet under different circumstances, and villainous merchant Takeda Kanryu becomes a foe immediately. Neither Megumi nor Aoshi is under his employ, however, but he’s still got that gatling gun of which he is so fond. Sano still makes his first appearance as someone who’s been hired to fight Kenshin, but he already possesses his Mastery of Two Layers technique. The personalities of the characters are intact, though, so this streamlined introduction doesn’t ruffle my feathers too much.

Perhaps the most striking difference so far involves Saito Hajime. After six occasionally dull volumes, the original series is reinvigorated in the seventh with the introduction of Saito, who comes after Kenshin, grievously wounds Sano, lures Kenshin out with a note, and hangs out at the dojo for a while until Kenshin gets back, at which point they have an epic duel. It’s exciting stuff! He does eventually become an ally as they work together to combat madman Shishio during the Kyoto Arc, but they’re never truly friends.

In Restoration, we get our first glimpse of Saito in chapter three, which led me to wonder… how is Watsuki going to depict their battle this time? Surely, that’s one aspect of the story that needs no reinvention! The answer (at least so far) turned out to be… what battle? Instead, the guys meet and talk about how Kenshin is unable to find a place to belong in the new era. That’s it. So, basically, Watsuki just skips straight to the “uneasy allies” stage of their relationship.

Yeah, okay, I know this isn’t supposed to be a strict retelling. What would be the point in that? But the point remains… while there are definitely segments of the original manga that could benefit from a more streamlined approach, I would not classify anything from volumes seven through eighteen in that category. I’m kind of worried now about what will happen with the Kyoto Arc. Will it even exist? Do I want it to exist, given that it will be undoubtedly changed? I really don’t know.

At the moment, I still plan to check out new chapters of Restoration as they appear, but will maintain a dubious air whilst doing so. – Michelle Smith

Tokyo Cycle Girl, Vol. 1 | By Wadapen | Earth Star Entertainment, Comic Earth Star | JManga.com | Windows XP, Firefox 16.0
Sometimes you read a series because it immediately grips you, you latch on to a character right away, or you just have to find out what happens next. But those series don’t come along every day. Far more often you get the series that raise a smile, or have some potential, or pass the time. A series where your immediate reaction is “Yeah, I guess I’d read another volume of that.” Tokyo Cycle Girl is such a series. It does a lot of little things right, and is easy to follow, so is a nice, fast-paced, relaxing read. It only has one big flaw, which is a stunning lack of originality.

I need to mention that up front, as there’s a chance someone might think that this series might have something they haven’t seen eighty times before. Get those thoughts out of your head. This isn’t done in 4-koma style, but in every other aspect it follows at the feet of all the moe high school club manga circa Haruhi/K-On!/Lucky Star. The lead, Iruka, is a bubble-brain country girl who’s new to Tokyo, but filled with excitement, energy, and naive awe at absolutely everything about Tokyo. Katou, her roommate, has already grown used to the city, and finds Tokyo to be suffocating, with all the places and people looking the same to her. She’s a long-haired beauty, but seemingly cold and reserved. Of course, as Iruka finds out, she’s also very much a tsundere. Meanwhile, if I told you the other two main characters in this volume were a sporty tomboy who tends to speak first and think later and a yamato nadesico princess type whose aura of calm can make almost anyone bow to her, you wouldn’t be a bit surprised.

That said, aside from the stunning unoriginality, this manga doesn’t do anything else wrong. The author seems to know he’s dealing with types, so exaggerates them beyond belief right from the start. Iruka isn’t just perky, she’s beyond hyperactive, bouncing off the walls and floor when first reaching her dorm room. Yukimi isn’t just a perfect princess, but does a perfect tea ceremony the moment she and Iruka meet, and is already exuding enough ‘motherly’ vibes to fell the entire cast. The other interesting thing was the bicycle talk. All the characters ride bikes, ranging from the latest sport style to Iruka’s old-fashioned junior-high style bike. We get detailed looks at the various bike styles and accessories around Tokyo (along with frequent asides from the author), and bike knowledge definitely seems to be this series’ ‘hook’. Which is enough, along with the likeable cast, to keep me wanting to read more, even if this is The Return of K-On! Vol. 35, with Bicycles. -Sean Gaffney

BL Bookrack: Best of 2012

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MJ: As BL discussions have cropped up in comments over the past couple of weeks, both in the 2012 fannish highlights thread and in this week’s Manga the Week of, Michelle and I thought we’d use this month’s BL Bookrack column to open up some official discussion on our favorite BL of the year. We’ve seen a wealth of new BL titles hitting the shelves in 2012, though our “shelves” have been largely virtual, thanks to new digital publishers like SuBLime, JManga, and the Digital Manga Guild. So before we get down to naming favorites, let’s talk a little about the genre’s move to digital.

Given the North American BL industry’s overall shift to digital distribution over the past year, I admit I was a bit surprised by the level of vitriol aimed at Hikaru Sasahara’s recent announcement regarding DMP’s print hiatus. Though comments run the gamut from reluctant understanding to pointed rage, at least half of the fans who took the time to weigh in specifically mentioned how little they like the company’s digital releases.

Part of my surprise, I think, is due to the largely positive feedback from BL fans regarding Viz’s SuBLime Manga—a mostly-digital imprint whose print releases make up a relatively small portion of their catalogue. In our “fannish highlights” thread, for example, a reader named Lee named DRM-free digital BL as her most significant fan experience of the year, crediting SuBLime as the leader of the pack. So does fan disappointment with DMP stem from the quality and delivery method of their digital releases, or digital in general?

I’m inclined to believe it’s a little of both, and I agree pretty strongly on the first bit. Though I haven’t been a fan of SuBLime’s licenses, they crush DMP so far in terms of both visual quality and ease of delivery. While manga delivered by way of DMP’s iPad app looks like a million bucks, their Kindle releases are far from it (see this article for an example), and eManga’s built-in reader is an incredibly limiting choice for those of us who don’t enjoy reading comics on our computers. I’ve been endlessly frustrated by the fact that I can’t read books from my eManga account in the iPad app (and vice-versa), and though downloadable PDFs wouldn’t be my first choice for delivery, they are at least transferrable from one device to the next. I have high hopes for the upcoming revamp of eManga—and I hope easing off their print schedule is helping to move that along more quickly—but for the moment, SuBLime is absolutely in the lead.

And then there’s JManga. Though not specifically (or even significantly) a BL publisher, JManga’s BL releases have been some of my favorites this year. They’re also behind in terms of delivery—their flash-based reader doesn’t work on my tablet, and though their Android app has been live for a month or so, their iOS release lags behind. And the potential for downloadable PDFs is not even on the table, to my knowledge.

As far as digital distribution in general… I never thought I’d be a convert. I love the look and feel of print books, and I really dislike reading comics on my computer. But I’m absolutely in love with my tablet. Reading on the iPad—both prose books and comics—is a real pleasure. I mentioned to someone at New York Comic Con—Robert Newman, maybe—that if I could read all the manga I wanted on my iPad, in high quality, I’d never buy a print book again. That’s probably not entirely true. High-end hardcover releases from companies like Vertical, Fantagraphics, and (recently) Yen Press would always have a place on my bookshelves. But my space for books is increasingly limited, and it would be relief to be able to just carry them all with me on one small device.

MICHELLE: My experience is pretty different, as I own neither smartphone nor tablet. All I have is a Kindle—which, as mentioned, is useless for manga—and a personal computer. Still, I am not peeved at all by the move toward digital distribution.

True, reading manga on my computer is not nearly as comfortable as curling up on the corner of the couch with a printed volume. However, when doing so gives me access to books I may like to read but not own permanently—as is largely the case with BL, I’m afraid—I have no complaints whatsoever. And when doing so has the additional bonus of giving me access to books that may never have seen the light of day in a printed edition—JManga’s licenses, some of the DMG ones, as well—I really have no complaints at all.

Honestly, what it boils down to for me is company survival. If this is what DMP thinks they need to do to stay afloat as a company, or to revamp their site, or whatever their aims are, then I am fine with it. Would fans rather have no BL at all if they can’t have printed copies?

MJ: So, let’s get to our favorite titles, shall we? I probably read fewer BL releases this year than last, but time constraints ensured that I was pickier about what I read, which means I liked more of them overall.

My greatest BL highlight of the year was absolutely JManga’s release of Setona Mizushiro’s Dousei Ai, an eleven-volume epic that has everything I want in a romance story—complicated, slow-building relationships, thoughtful characterization, and a multi-layered, soap-opera plot.

From my review: “This is no casual one-shot or simplistic BL romance. Setona Mizushiro has carefully crafted a complex emotional drama with some of the best-written characterization I’ve ever seen in this genre and a long game that is pretty obviously going to offer up significant payoff for the reader. I mean, going into this it’s clear that we’re in for a killer of a ride, along the lines of something like Sooyeon Won’s manhwa epic Let Dai, only better—much, much better.”

I’m four volumes in now, and just absolutely hooked. This is my kind of romance, for sure, and Mizushiro’s old-school shoujo artwork is just icing on the cake for me.

JManga was a particularly solid source of BL for me this year, also offering up the intensely charming series My Darling Kitten Hair (more, please, more!), the adorably awkward Doukyusei, est em’s awesome Apartments of Calle Feliz, the infectiously cute My Dear Prince, and Keiko Kinoshita’s fantastic set of short manga I Love You, Chief Clerk!

Speaking of Kinoshita, she’s been a favorite of mine since I read the first volume of Kiss Blue several years ago, but her work is suddenly all over the place here, thanks mainly to the Digital Manga Guild, who brought us (among others) You and Tonight and The Boyfriend Next Door—two of my very favorite BL reads this year. Elsewhere from DMP, their Juné imprint did me a solid by re-releasing the BL “classic” Only the Ring Finger Knows, which I honestly adored.

And if my biggest disappointment this year as a BL fan has been my lack of connection with SuBLime’s licenses in general (I talk about this a bit in our roundup this week, which has been continued in comments), books I did like from them include the sweet one-shot Honey Darling, and one of the only BL comedies I’ve ever been able to tolerate, Oku-San’s Daily Fantasies, which was a huge surprise for me.

What about you, Michelle?

MICHELLE: Despite buying several of JManga’s BL titles—mostly those you mentioned above—the only one I actually managed to read this year was The Apartments of Calle Feliz which, as usual for est em, was terrific. And thanks to DMP, I was also able to read another highly enjoyable est em short story collection, the sports-centric ULTRAS.

Like you, most of SuBLime’s licenses don’t really appeal to me, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been able to find titles to enjoy. The Bed of My Dear King was a quirky and memorable set of stories, The Scent of Apple Blossoms provided yet more proof that Toko Kawai writes my kind of BL, Honey Darling was absolutely flippin’ adorable, and Punch Up! was unexpectedly intriguing, given that it’s more explicit than my usual fare and not adorable at all.

DMP was also responsible for some of this year’s favorites, starting with the engrossing, yakuza-themed Men of Tattoos (which technically came out in 2011). Mangaka Yuiji Aniya does some clever things with this interconnected set of stories that make this a title I’d recommend to any manga fan. Another title I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend is Only Serious About You, whose second volume portrayed the evolving relationship between its main characters with sensitivity and realism.

But my favorite DMP offering, and my overall favorite BL release for the year, is Momoko Tenzen’s Flutter.

In my review, I wrote, “There are so many things to recommend this manga. The atmosphere is sort of… elegant and languid, which suits mysterious Mizuki well and makes an earnest everydude like Asada stand out all the more. The growing friendship between the men is believable—and they’re both completely professional adults, I might add—as is Mizuki’s wary reaction when Asada confesses his feelings.. It’s lovely and complicated, and when the guys do finally get together physically it’s wonderfully awkward.”

Looking back, it sure has been a good year for BL!

MJ: It really has!

Readers, we’d love to hear from you! What were your favorite BL titles this year? Where do you stand on digital distribution? Let us know in comments!

Disclosure: MJ is currently under contract with Digital Manga Publishing’s Digital Manga Guild, as necessitated for her ongoing report Inside the DMG. Any compensation earned by MJin her role as an editor with the DMG will be donated to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund.

Off the Shelf: King of RPGs, Genbu Kaiden, Pride

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MICHELLE: Hey, MJ! Did you hear about the fire at the circus?

MJ: Why no, Michelle. Why don’t you tell me about it?

MICHELLE: It was in tents!

MJ: Ba-dum dum *chick*.

MICHELLE: I concede that there is a distinct possibility that nobody enjoys these dumb jokes but me, but I can’t seem to resist trotting them out whenever it’s my turn to start us off. Anyhoo, read any good manga lately?

MJ: I certainly have! It’s been a long time coming, but I finally acquired myself a copy of the second volume of Jason Thompson and Victor Hao’s OEL manga series King of RPGs, released over a year ago by the much-missed Del Rey. I enthusiastically reviewed volume one many moons ago for Deb Aoki at About.com, but I’d missed continuing on. And now that I have, I’m sorry that it took me so long!

After volume one’s over-the-top, madcap, shounen-esque conclusion, the series’ second volume begins in relatively grounded territory as it introduces us to the online universe of “World of Warcraft Warfare,” the MMORPG that originally drove the story’s hero, Shesh, to hospitalization and extensive psychotherapy. WOW servers have been overrun by “gold farmers”—players who collect in-game valuables (currency, magical items, high-level characters, etc.) and sell them for real-world cash. As rival guild members battle and kill each other (rather than their AI enemies) over these valuables, the name “Moggrathka,” Shesh’s long-abandoned character, lives on in legend as the most-feared and respected player-killer of all time. Soon after, we’re reintroduced to Rona Orzak, volume one’s misguided, gamer-hating student policewoman, who inadvertently reawakens Shesh’s in-game alter-ego by way of her own WOW account, thus unleashing the player-killing monster into both the real and virtual worlds. Of course, in King of RPGs, only tabletop gaming can save the day!

This series has a lot going for it, particularly for gamers and shounen manga fans who are pretty much equally serviced by its generously applied fan culture references, character-driven narrative, and fast-paced adventure. But its greatest appeal by far is Jason Thompson’s spot-on humor, which somehow manages to make a bunch of potentially alienating in-jokes accessible to casual readers without mocking hard-core fans. I can only attribute this to Thompson’s obvious love for the subject matter, and its effectiveness really can’t be overstated. If there’s a consistent vibe that tends to emanate from real nerd culture, it’s a weird combination of passionate fandom and deep resentment over any attempt to bring newcomers into the fold—as if the conversion of each new fan somehow reduces the value of the fandom itself. But Thompson actively invites readers into the world of tabletop RPGs (and, more stealthily, shounen manga) with a real warmth and generosity that makes you want to join him at the table. That, more than anything, makes the series a great read. And the hilarity… oh, the hilarity!

I should mention, too, Hao’s artwork, which has really grown since the series’ beginning. Volume two’s visual storytelling is just as energetic as ever, but feels cleaner and vastly more focused, especially in later chapters.

MICHELLE: You know, I have volume one on my shelf, but never got around to reading it. It seems like I should rectify that. Has there been any word on the fate of this series now that Del Rey is no more?

MJ: Nothing official that I’m aware of (though I believe the authors are hopeful!), but Jason Thompson’s webcomic “expansion” has been running on the series’ website since February, so there’s something to tide us over, at least. Also, gamers will enjoy the fake blog of Theodore Dudek, King of RPGs‘ overenthusiastic GM.

So, now that I’ve sufficiently nerded-out, what have you been reading this week?

MICHELLE: I have been enjoying a marathon catch-up read of Fushigi Yûgi: Genbu Kaiden, by Yuu Watase!

The anime of the original Fushigi Yûgi was one of the first shoujo anime I ever saw, and the story remains dear to my heart, even though I am fully cognizant of its flaws. When Genbu Kaiden started coming out in English, I collected it faithfully, but somehow never ended up reading it. Now that the much-anticipated tenth volume has finally been published (almost three years after volume nine), I made it my priority to get caught up.

And what a delightful read it has been! Watase sure has matured a lot as a storyteller in the intervening years, crafting a story that’s similar enough to the original to appeal to long-time fans, but fully its own creation capable of attracting new readers. Genbu Priestess Takiko Okuda is a much more likable heroine than the original’s Miaka, and the primary romance here is one that leaves me more touched than annoyed. I was actually expecting to like Tomite and Hikitsu the best (especially Hikitsu), since they appeared in the original story (and since Hikitsu is very pretty), but my favorite characters have actually turned out to be the Celestial warriors appearing here for the first time. I’m surprised by how much I like Uruki (Takiko’s love interest), but my favorite is probably Namame, the mute (only Takiko can hear his voice) but ever-helpful warrior who spends most of his time in the form of a stone doll.

In volume ten, the Celestial warriors have infiltrated the capital, where one of their number is being imprisoned and made to use his powers for the protection of the power-hungry emperor. Some nifty revelations ensue, including a tour through the memories of Uruki’s corrupt dad, but by far the most significant aspect of the story is that Takiko has begun to show signs of the same illness that claimed her mother’s life, but is trying to hide it from the others. She knows now that she will be compelled to sacrifice herself if she summons Genbu, but since her death seems imminent anyway, it might as well serve the purpose of saving people who are dying from war, cold, and starvation.

Although there are a few lighthearted moments—as well as a smattering of romantic ones—on the whole, this is a much more sober tale than the original and definitely its equal, if not its superior. I’m exceedingly glad to see volume eleven on the near horizon (March 2013) and hope that one day Watase is able to pen the Byakko saga, as well!

MJ: I’m so glad you’ve caught up on this series, because now we can share the squee! Having (still!) not read the original—something I’ll rectify soon—I don’t have the same reference for comparison, but I’ve enjoyed Genbu Kaiden immensely. I’ve also been surprised by how much I like Uruki, and I thought his romance with Takiko was one of the highlights of volume ten. And could Namame possibly be more adorable? I don’t think so!

MICHELLE: I am starting to think you may want to avoid the original until Genbu concludes, because it does give away the ending, though I am sure Watase has some surprises in store on that account.

Anyway! Once again, we have both read the debut volume(s) of a newly released series, which is something we enjoy doing and something we intend to do more of in future! Care to tackle the introductory duties this time, MJ?

MJ: I’d be happy to!

So, this week’s mutual read comes from online publisher JManga, whose wealth of recent acquisitions includes Yukari Ichijo’s josei series Pride, originally from Shueisha’s Chorus magazine.

Pride follows the stories of two aspiring classical singers—Shio Asami, whose upscale musical education is abruptly halted by a sudden downturn in her widower father’s fortunes, and Moe Midorikawa, whose lower-class background has made entering the elitist world of opera an uphill battle from nearly every angle. Though the series’ plotline mainly concerns their mutual struggle to keep singing while maintaining day-to-day survival (along with the obligatory rivalries, both professional and romantic), the real meat of it all lies in the ways that their disparate backgrounds have formed their personalities and how that affects the way they approach their respective lives and careers.

Shio’s respectable upbringing and musical pedigree (her late mother was an international opera star) have burdened her with a sense of pride that is ultimately unhelpful when she requires assistance from others, and her well-schooled refinement hinders her ability to perform with any real emotional resonance. Meanwhile, Moe’s natural expressiveness as a singer is not quite enough to make up for inferior training, and her desperate personal circumstances have made her absolutely ruthless (and fairly ungraceful) in her quest for career success.

What works particularly well about all this is that Ichijo manages to make both characters pretty much equal parts sympathetic and maddening. And while Shio ends up tipping the scale in likability, it’s impossible not to sympathize with Moe’s deep need to escape from her truly icky origins. By the end of volume two, I found myself rooting for both of them, despite their genuinely ugly rivalry.

How about you?

MICHELLE: Kudos on that summary! I loved Pride almost without reservation. Let’s see if I can count the ways…

I love that Shio doesn’t follow the “poor little rich girl” stereotype. She and her father have a genuinely loving relationship, and though the fact that she’s been protected from pain and hardship all her life later becomes a weakness, it’s still this relationship that gives her the strength to persevere. As a musician, I really identify with Shio’s struggles with expressiveness and the realization that perfection is sometimes boring. I was especially interested when she abandons the fantasy of herself as a singing princess and really begins to recognize the reality of her situation. I worry that marrying Jinno, the producer, will allow her an only temporary return to that sparkling world, only to be followed my massive despair. (I worry for her marrying him much like I worried about Hachi marrying Takumi in NANA, actually.)

Too, I love that the rivalry between Shio and Moe is so very equal. They’ve each got skills the other doesn’t possess, which makes them the perfect mate/muse for the guy that the other girl fancies, and it all builds so organically. True, I can’t really like Moe very much, but I absolutely sympathize with her. About the only aspect of Pride that I didn’t love were the scenes involving Moe’s incredibly horrible mother, but I acknowledge they were necessary and am grateful that Ichijo kept them fairly brief.

Although each woman is dealt some awful blows, each also has a few lucky breaks, too, so everything balances out.

MJ: Well said, Michelle, on all counts!

I’ll add, I guess, that though I share your reservations about Shio marrying Jinno, at least she’s going in with her eyes open, unlike Hachi did in NANA. Shio’s not remotely in love with Jinno and has no illusions about him being in love with her, so while I think she’s ultimately in for a very unhappy marriage, at least she’s not fooling herself into thinking it’s a real marriage to begin with. In a way, that’s what makes it such a powerful plot point. She’s prepared for it to be disappointing, romantically, but I suspect it’s going to disappoint and hurt her in other ways that she’s not anticipating at all. And I’m sure it’ll make for great drama in future volumes!

MICHELLE: I’m sure it will! All in all, this is just a great depiction of how just plain old life can get in the way of one’s dreams, and how two women still have enough fight left in them to keep trying to attain what they want, rather than just giving up.

Thank you so much, JManga, for introducing us to Pride! Please, sirs, can we have some more?

MJ: Yes, yes, more!

Drifting Net Cafe, Vol. 1

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It takes nerve — nay, stones — to update Kazuo Umezu’s bat-shit classic The Drifting Classroom. That’s exactly what Shuzo Oshimi (The Flowers of Evil) has done in Drifting Net Cafe, however, substituting a nebbishy salaryman for Sho, the original series’ twelve-year-old protagonist, and an Internet cafe for Sho’s school. The results are a decidedly mixed bag, suggesting that some texts lend themselves to revision, while others are too much the product of particular author’s imagination to warrant re-telling.

As in the original series, the story begins with a snapshot of the hero’s daily life: 29-year-old Toki has an argument with his pregnant wife, Yukie, then goes to an office job he dislikes. On impulse, he stops in an Internet cafe on his way home from work, where he bumps into Tohno, a girl he loved in middle school. The two begin comparing notes on their current lives when an earthquake plunges the building into darkness. When no one arrives to lead Toki, Tohno, and their fellow customers to safety, the group makes a terrifying discovery: the cafe has been transported from Tokyo to a wasteland from which all evidence of human civilization — roads, buildings, people — has been expunged.

To his credit, Oshimi takes enough time to establish Toki’s routine and personality for the reader to appreciate what’s at stake if Toki doesn’t find a way to return to his old life. None of the other characters, however, are fleshed out to the same degree. Yukie is portrayed as a howling grotesque, at the mercy of her hormones; Tohno is saintly and brave; and the other cafe customers are assigned one or two defining traits, depending on their gender and age. Thin characterizations are a common problem in disaster stories; authors are often reluctant to bestow too much humanity on characters who are destined to become monster food or cannon fodder, lest the audience find the story too dispiriting. Oshimi, however, takes that indifference to an extreme, creating a supporting cast of repellant, one-note characters whose comeuppance elicit cheers, not tears.

The other great drawback to Drifting Net Cafe is Oshimi’s lack of imagination. Though Oshimi is a competent draftsman, he shows little of Umezu’s flair for nightmarish imagery. Consider the way Oshimi renders the cafe’s final destination:

The wasteland, as imagined by Shuzo Oshimi in Drifting Net Cafe.

It’s not a badly composed image; Oshimi makes effective use of the tilted camera angle to convey the characters’ disorientation, and uses a few charred trees to suggest that something powerful scoured the landscape clean. When contrasted with the original version, however, it’s clear that Oshimi’s image elicits a much tidier, less emotional response than the repulsive, molten moonscape that Sho and his teachers discover just beyond the school gates:

Umezu’s vision of the wasteland, from The Drifting Classroom.

Oshimi’s monsters, too, betray his tendency to favor blandly polished imagery over inspired, if crudely rendered, boogeymen. Late in volume one of Drifting Net Cafe, for example, a creature resembling a typical Star Trek parasite attacks a female character, latching onto her thigh. It’s a memorable scene, tapping a similar vein of body-violation horror as Alien and Prometheus, but the monster’s quick defeat makes it seem more like a pretext for fanservice than a genuine menace. Umezu’s monsters, by contrast, take a variety of forms — giant insects and lizards, creepy aliens with bulbous foreheads, giant metallic serpents with grasping hands — all of which seem like the products of a feverish child’s imagination, rather than something copied from a TV show or straight-to-DVD movie.

The characters’ conflicts, too, seem smaller and less compelling than they did in Umezu’s original, which pitted Sho and his classmates against their teachers. The Drifting Classroom‘s adults quickly become deranged with grief and fear, leaving the children to fend for themselves in a hostile environment. Sho and his classmates spend several agonizing chapters struggling to accept the fact that none of the adults are in charge anymore; the students’ first attempts to defend themselves against crazed teachers and giant bugs end in catastrophe, a gruesome reminder of their misplaced trust in the adults.

In Oshimi’s version, however, all the characters are adults. They challenge one another’s leadership, squabble over resources, and indulge their worst impulses, sexual and otherwise. Though some of these scenes pack a visceral punch, most simply reinforce the idea that Toki and Tohno are the only decent folk among a group of unpleasant, self-interested urbanites — not exactly the stuff of high-stakes drama, even if one character finds himself on the business end of a pocket knife.

Where Drifting Net Cafe improves on the source material is pacing. The Drifting Classroom unfolds at a furious clip; characters are maimed or menaced in every chapter, and speak at decibel levels better suited for the Bonnaroo Music Festival than everyday conversation. Oshimi, on the other hand, varies the narrative tempo of Drifting Net Cafe: some chapters are packed with important revelations and dramatic confrontations, while others are more leisurely. These quieter chapters are among the most unnerving, however, as we watch the characters size up each others’ weaknesses, like sharks circling a wounded seal.

Though conceived as a tribute to The Drifting Classroom, Oshimi’s work is more likely to appeal to readers who haven’t read the original, or who find Umezu’s distinctive artwork dated and ugly. Long-time fans of Classroom are likely to find Oshimi’s update slick but soulless, as it relies more heavily on low-budget disaster movies than the original source material for its characters and conflicts.

DRIFTING NET CAFE, VOL. 1 • BY SHUZO OSHIMI • JMANGA • 251 pp. • RATING: MATURE (18+)

Drifting Net Cafe, Vol. 1

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It takes nerve — nay, stones — to update Kazuo Umezu’s bat-shit classic The Drifting Classroom. That’s exactly what Shuzo Oshimi (The Flowers of Evil) has done in Drifting Net Cafe, however, substituting a nebbishy salaryman for Sho, the original series’ twelve-year-old protagonist, and an Internet cafe for Sho’s school. The results are a decidedly mixed bag, suggesting that some texts lend themselves to revision, while others are too much the product of particular author’s imagination to warrant re-telling.

As in the original series, the story begins with a snapshot of the hero’s daily life: 29-year-old Toki has an argument with his pregnant wife, Yukie, then goes to an office job he dislikes. On impulse, he stops in an Internet cafe on his way home from work, where he bumps into Tohno, a girl he loved in middle school. The two begin comparing notes on their current lives when an earthquake plunges the building into darkness. When no one arrives to lead Toki, Tohno, and their fellow customers to safety, the group makes a terrifying discovery: the cafe has been transported from Tokyo to a wasteland from which all evidence of human civilization — roads, buildings, people — has been expunged.

To his credit, Oshimi takes enough time to establish Toki’s routine and personality for the reader to appreciate what’s at stake if Toki doesn’t find a way to return to his old life. None of the other characters, however, are fleshed out to the same degree. Yukie is portrayed as a howling grotesque, at the mercy of her hormones; Tohno is saintly and brave; and the other cafe customers are assigned one or two defining traits, depending on their gender and age. Thin characterizations are a common problem in disaster stories; authors are often reluctant to bestow too much humanity on characters who are destined to become monster food or cannon fodder, lest the audience find the story too dispiriting. Oshimi, however, takes that indifference to an extreme, creating a supporting cast of repellant, one-note characters whose comeuppance elicit cheers, not tears.

The other great drawback to Drifting Net Cafe is Oshimi’s lack of imagination. Though Oshimi is a competent draftsman, he shows little of Umezu’s flair for nightmarish imagery. Consider the way Oshimi renders the cafe’s final destination:

The wasteland, as imagined by Shuzo Oshimi in Drifting Net Cafe.

It’s not a badly composed image; Oshimi makes effective use of the tilted camera angle to convey the characters’ disorientation, and uses a few charred trees to suggest that something powerful scoured the landscape clean. When contrasted with the original version, however, it’s clear that Oshimi’s image elicits a much tidier, less emotional response than the repulsive, molten moonscape that Sho and his teachers discover just beyond the school gates:

Umezu’s vision of the wasteland, from The Drifting Classroom.

Oshimi’s monsters, too, betray his tendency to favor blandly polished imagery over inspired, if crudely rendered, boogeymen. Late in volume one of Drifting Net Cafe, for example, a creature resembling a typical Star Trek parasite attacks a female character, latching onto her thigh. It’s a memorable scene, tapping a similar vein of body-violation horror as Alien and Prometheus, but the monster’s quick defeat makes it seem more like a pretext for fanservice than a genuine menace. Umezu’s monsters, by contrast, take a variety of forms — giant insects and lizards, creepy aliens with bulbous foreheads, giant metallic serpents with grasping hands — all of which seem like the products of a feverish child’s imagination, rather than something copied from a TV show or straight-to-DVD movie.

The characters’ conflicts, too, seem smaller and less compelling than they did in Umezu’s original, which pitted Sho and his classmates against their teachers. The Drifting Classroom‘s adults quickly become deranged with grief and fear, leaving the children to fend for themselves in a hostile environment. Sho and his classmates spend several agonizing chapters struggling to accept the fact that none of the adults are in charge anymore; the students’ first attempts to defend themselves against crazed teachers and giant bugs end in catastrophe, a gruesome reminder of their misplaced trust in the adults.

In Oshimi’s version, however, all the characters are adults. They challenge one another’s leadership, squabble over resources, and indulge their worst impulses, sexual and otherwise. Though some of these scenes pack a visceral punch, most simply reinforce the idea that Toki and Tohno are the only decent folk among a group of unpleasant, self-interested urbanites — not exactly the stuff of high-stakes drama, even if one character finds himself on the business end of a pocket knife.

Where Drifting Net Cafe improves on the source material is pacing. The Drifting Classroom unfolds at a furious clip; characters are maimed or menaced in every chapter, and speak at decibel levels better suited for the Bonnaroo Music Festival than everyday conversation. Oshimi, on the other hand, varies the narrative tempo of Drifting Net Cafe: some chapters are packed with important revelations and dramatic confrontations, while others are more leisurely. These quieter chapters are among the most unnerving, however, as we watch the characters size up each others’ weaknesses, like sharks circling a wounded seal.

Though conceived as a tribute to The Drifting Classroom, Oshimi’s work is more likely to appeal to readers who haven’t read the original, or who find Umezu’s distinctive artwork dated and ugly. Long-time fans of Classroom are likely to find Oshimi’s update slick but soulless, as it relies more heavily on low-budget disaster movies than the original source material for its characters and conflicts.

DRIFTING NET CAFE, VOL. 1 • BY SHUZO OSHIMI • JMANGA • 251 pp. • RATING: MATURE (18+)

Off the Shelf: BL GL Bookrack

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MJ: Welcome back to Off the Shelf! We’re doing something a bit different with the column this week. Usually, somewhere around this time, we’d be preparing our monthly BL Bookrack column, featuring reviews of a handful of new BL titles. This month, we decide to switch things up a bit, and take on a few Yuri titles—sort of a “GL Bookrack” if you will—inspired by the growing number of Yuri titles becoming available digitally from JManga. But as we talked more about it, we realized we both wanted to read all three of the titles currently available.

So, in the end, we bring you BL GL Bookrack, Off the Shelf style!

Michelle, would you like to introduce our first title?

MICHELLE: Hmm… where to start? I suppose the simplest title can go first, and that would have to be Hayako Goto’s Poor Poor Lips.

Told in a four-panel format, Poor Poor Lips is a comedy about Okashi Nako (whose name is a pun meaning “strange girl”), a deeply impoverished 21-year-old who answers an advertisement for a sales job at a store selling power stones. The manager, Otsuka Ren, is the daughter of a rich family who promptly tells all the applicants that she is a lesbian. When most of them flee, Nako is hired on the spot with the reassurance, “You’re DEFINITELY not my type, so don’t worry.”

Most of the manga involves gags about Nako’s extreme poverty—she eats a lot of bread crusts—and Ren’s growing fondness for her, coupled with her impulse to give Nako everything she lacks, which she is trying not to do because previous relationships have been spoiled by excess generosity. Ren also gets really jealous of Nako’s old classmate, pastry chef Furui, and does various silly things to get him to go away/keep tabs on him, including placing spy cameras in his shop.

All in all, I have to say that I didn’t find this funny at all. That’s not to say that it isn’t pleasant, but none of the gags struck me as funny. I kept thinking, “I wonder what this would be like if Nako was actually depicted as a scruffy young woman instead of looking like an eight-year-old.” I bet I would’ve liked it more then. Ultimately, I didn’t really feel much inclined to read the other two volumes available on JManga, figuring they’d simply be more of the same.

How about you?

MJ: I’d say my reaction was significantly different, at least once I’d gotten a ways into the story. What you describe is pretty much how I felt over the course of the first few chapters, but as the volume continued, I have to say it really grew on me. I began to like both of the main characters quite a bit, and I did actually find a lot of it to be quite funny, particularly the running (false) rivalry between Ren and Furui (whose family’s bakery “Furui Cake” could also be read as “old cake”).

Things like the over-the-top spying and even Nako’s young/cute appearance read as humorous to me, which I largely chalk up to its being a 4-koma. I think I would have found most of it unappealing as a regular story manga, but in comic strip format, it really worked for me.

MICHELLE: I was still envisioning it as 4-koma, but with an older-looking Nako. But, yeah, maybe a lot of over-the-top silliness wouldn’t be possible if she looked too realistic.

I will say that I think the story has surprising depth in terms of Ren’s conflicting impulses. She honestly doesn’t know how to make someone happy other than by bestowing money and gifts upon them, and it’s hard for her not to coddle someone or something she likes. Goto exemplifies this rather neatly in a few panels about a stray kitten Nako takes in, and Ren’s sad past with an overfed baby bird.

I guess I should clarify that me not finding something funny doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s worthwhile or, as I called it, “pleasant.” It is at least not outright unfunny.

MJ: I’ll point out, too, that this is one of the better localization efforts I’ve seen from JManga. It read really smoothly, the translation notes were genuinely helpful, and the fact that I found it funny at all says a lot. I think 4-koma is very difficult to bring across effectively in English.

MICHELLE: Definitely. I think I saw all of one typo. There are a few print publishers who wish they could make that claim!

So, how about you introduce the second title?

MJ: Sure! Let’s take a fairly drastic turn and look at the other single volume we each read, Ebine Yamaji’s Love My Life, originally serialized in josei magazine Feel Young, home of familiar titles like Bunny Drop (Yen Press), Happy Mania (Tokyopop), and Blue (Fanfare/Ponent Mon).

Love My Life tells the story of a young woman named Ichiko who, upon coming out to her father, discovers that he also is gay, as was her mother (who died when Ichiko was quite young). What’s especially interesting about this, is that though the story certainly centers around the relationship between Ichiko and her girlfriend, Ellie, that’s not the only thing Ichiko is dealing with by far. She’s also having to come to terms with the fact that her parents’ relationship wasn’t what she thought, and that even now, her father has been living a life completely separate from the one he has with her. And since we meet Ichiko after her relationship with Ellie has already been going on for some time, it’s neither a coming-out story nor a typical romance.

Ichiko meets her father’s boyfriend (who wants very little to do with her), helps Ellie survive her strained relationship with her own father, struggles with feelings of loneliness while Ellie studies for the bar exam, and poses as her gay (male) best friend’s girlfriend to help shield him from having to deal with his sexuality at school. It’s more of a slice-of-life manga than anything else, but emotionally resonant in a way I tend to expect from serious drama or well-written romance.

I have to say that this was probably my favorite of all the Yuri we read this week, mainly because it was by far the most relatable and true-to-life. I like genre romance a lot, but this contained some of the best aspects of romance manga (including a good amount of sexual content) without having to rely on fantasy at all, which I’ll admit is pretty refreshing. It’s also added to my yearning to see more josei in English, Yuri or otherwise.

MICHELLE: Yes, this was my favorite, as well. As you say, it’s neither a coming-out story nor a typical romance. To me, it reads simply as a growing-up story with a focus on being true to yourself. Ichiko comes out to her father, but learns a truth in return that flips her world on end. It’s a hard thing to learn that something you’d believed in was never real, and that your parents are individuals with thoughts, desires, and lives that may have nothing to do with you. As hard as that is to process, though, she achieves a better understanding of her father as a result, including the realization of how understanding he is.

And then there’s Ellie, who has been fueled by the desire to compete with her father and brother. It’s not that she particularly wants to be a lawyer, but wants to prove, “I can catch up to you. And be on equal footing with you.” Ichiko instinctively feels that this is wrong, but must learn not to meddle and let Ellie have her own journey, come to her own realizations.

I liked that there’s not a certain “happy ever after” feeling to Love My Life. Ichiko and Ellie may not last as a couple. But one definitely gets the sense that, even if that were to happen, they would still be okay.

MJ: That was all so eloquently put, Michelle! I’m not sure I could add anything of substance to what you just said. Yes. Exactly. You’re so right-on.

As I attempt to muster some kind of intelligence again, do you want to talk about our third selection?

MICHELLE: Thank you! And sure!

Our last title is Milk Morinaga’s Girl Friends, which is available on JManga in its five-volume entirety (and which will be coming to print courtesy of Seven Seas later this year). This seinen series was serialized in Futabasha’s Comic High! and takes place at an all-girls high school.

Mariko (Mari) Kumakura is somewhat shy and reserved, but accepts an invitation from a more outgoing classmate, Akiko (Akko) Oohashi, to take the train home together. This leads to Akko encouraging Mari to get a haircut, educating her about fashion, and introducing her to some friends, including glamorous Sugi and cosplay addict Tamamin. All of this helps Mari gain confidence and some independence, and as she and Akko get closer, she starts to realize that she not only doesn’t want their friendship to fade, but wants to be more than friends.

Various misunderstandings ensue. Mari despairs that hers is “a love that can never come true,” and decides to date a former classmate in an attempt to move on and be happy that she gets to be Akko’s friend. At one point she kisses Akko, but is later evasive and embarrassed and eventually plays it off as a joke. But soon, Akko is feeling jealous of the time that Mari spends with her boyfriend, and realizes that she too wants to be more than friends. Now if only she can convince Mari that she really means it, or has that ship already sailed?

Sorry, lapsed into a bit of “back cover blurb” style, there!

MJ: Well done! In some ways, the “back cover blurb” summary is very much the point. Girlfriends falls into what Erica Friedman refers to as “Story A” for the genre, which isn’t an inherently negative description, by any means, but it is an indication that this is going to be a formula romance on a basic level. It’s a very enjoyable formula romance, in my opinion, but it’s unquestionably romantic fantasy. I’d even say it’s unquestionably romantic fantasy for men, given the particular types of fanservice we see throughout, but even that isn’t really a negative. It’s just a point of fact.

As I’ve said, I absolutely enjoy genre romance, and that’s what Girlfriends is. It’s got all the sweetness and anticipation of most any high school romance you’d find in a typical shoujo magazine, and there’s nothing wrong with that at all. It’s adorable. And if the way things work out so neatly and sweetly (after getting through a few typical hurdles) feels unbelievable, that’s part of what makes it fantasy.

MICHELLE: I concur. Reading it, though, I was struck by how little yuri I have really actually read. While I knew it was all going according to formula, reading about a burgeoning relationship between two girls still felt pretty new to me.

I’m glad you brought up the fanservice, because I definitely wanted to talk about that. First off, I should mention that it’s much less than I had anticipated, knowing that this series ran in a seinen magazine. There are a few superfluous bikinis, a few crotch shots, some boobies… but that’s about the extent of it. In contrast, Love My Life has much more sexual content, but because it feels more natural to the story (with no zooming in to specific body parts) it doesn’t come off as fanservice at all.

MJ: Yeah, I would never describe the sexual content in Love My Life as “fanservice” and looking at these two titles together really highlights the difference there. But as you say, the service in Girlfriends is definitely restrained. It almost feels like little more than a shift in perspective from shoujo romance, in which the girls are usually drawn just as prettily, short skirts and all, just not by way of the male gaze.

I, too, have read relatively little yuri, but I’m very glad to see more of it becoming available in English, including romantic fantasies like Girlfriends. I’m a big fan of romance, and I’ve pretty much discovered over the years that my tastes in that genre depend very little on the genders of the characters, outside of the fact that it offers more variety in the genre, and variety is always a good thing. Possibly that makes me pretty shallow, but really, I just like a good romance.

MICHELLE: Same here! So thanks, JManga, and more of the same, please!

Going Digital: April 2012

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Welcome to the latest Going Digital, Manga Bookshelf’s monthly feature focusing on manga available for digital viewing or download. Each month, the Manga Bookshelf bloggers review a selection of comics we’ve read on our computers, phones, or tablet devices, to give readers a taste of what’s out there, old and new, and how well it works in digital form.

This month, MJ, Sean, and Michelle take a look at several recent JManga releases available to read in your web browser. OS and browser information is included with each review, to let you know exactly how we accessed what we read.


Web Browser

Apartments of Calle Feliz | By est em | Libre Publishing Co., Ltd., Citron | JManga.com | Mac OS 10.7.3, Safari 5.1.5
“No one wants to read your sad story during a recession. You need to finish this with a happy ending.”

Still reeling from his latest breakup, these words from his editor are the last thing Luca wants to hear. “… happy ending? I’ve never experienced anything like it,” he thinks, as he lugs his scant possessions down to an apartment building at the end of the ironically-named “Calle Feliz” (“Happy Street”), where he hopes to find a vacant room. Unfortunately, the vacancy is non-existant, but the building’s landlord—a late-night DJ named Javi—offers him a couch, wi-fi, and a home-cooked meal, delivered with a pair of mournful eyes that Luca can’t bring himself to refuse. In addition, Javi offers him a solution to his creative difficulties, by suggesting that Luca write about the building’s tenants, most of whom could use some kind of happy ending.

I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with short stories, especially when they’re told through sequential art. That is to say, most of the time I hate them, except when I really, really love them. Est em’s work has generally fallen into the latter category, particularly her collection Age Called Blue, which I once referred to as “most overtly romantic” book in est em’s English-translated catalogue. Though Age Called Blue still stands as my favorite of her work so far, The Apartments of Calle Feliz gives it a run for its money in the romance department, if not in the most satisfying way.

Though the bulk of the volume consists of Luca’s observations on the building’s tenants—a man whose fear of losing his partner has (oddly) driven him to nudism, a pair of twins involved with the same man, a rather creepy puppet maker who can’t let go of his long-lost relationship with an underage lover, and (my favorite of the bunch) a transgender circus performer who finds love with the man upstairs—the book’s real love story belongs to Luca and Javi, who I wish had a lot more screen time. Don’t get me wrong. The book’s series of apartment vignettes are exactly as nuanced and intriguing as all of est em’s work. It’s just that there’s so much to explore in Luca and Javi, and though est em makes the most of the pages she gives them, it still feels as though she hasn’t done them justice. As a result, both their individual stories and their slow-building romance read as genuinely unfinished rather than typically sparse.

That said, there’s no excuse for missing out on even a single page of est em’s delicately-crafted storytelling, even as it leaves us wanting more. Recommended. – MJ

Non-chan no Tenohira, Vol. 1 | By Setsuko Kaneko | Futabasha, Jour Suteki no Shifutachi | JManga.com | Windows XP, Firefox 11.0
It is sometimes hard to read this title without thinking of With The Light, the josei manga about raising an autistic child that Yen Press put out. Both ran in magazines for housewives (Akita Shoten’s For Mrs. and Futabasha’s, which I think translates as “Jour for Beautiful Housewives’); both are clearly written from the perspective of the mother; and both deal with the difficulty that communities and family, especially in Japan, have in dealing with children with disabilities. That said, autism and Down’s Syndrome are not the same, and while With The Light had the drama starting after the child had already been born, Non-chan begins much earlier than that.

Our young couple, Kazuya and Yuki, have been married for years but still have been unable to conceive. Kazuya’s family is very much looking for a child, and the pressure is seemingly entirely on Yuki. It’s made fairly clear that her husband’ family don’t think much of her, and are blaming her for this regardless of what is being said. The joy that the couple have when Yuki finally conceives is wonderful… then a blood test comes back saying there’s a high probability the baby will have Down’s. This manga does not pull any punches, as the hospital tells Yuki this, then says “If you’re going to have an abortion, do it quickly.” As the volume goes on, we struggle with Yuki and Kazuya, as they try to decide whether to have the baby, whether to have amniocentesis that will tell them if that’s the case, and then when they finally have the child, dealing with both Down’s Syndrome as well as the continuing issues with Kazuya’s family.

I’ll be honest – this is a heavy, heavy manga. There are moments of joy and love in here, and they’re wonderful, but they’re all the more poignant because they’re surrounded by the reality of what raising this child means. There’s a lot of classism here, as Kazuya’s family is rich, while Yuki’s family was not – she’s always had to struggle for acceptance, and the birth of Noriko (Non-chan) is like a nail in the coffin. Nor is it limited to Kazuya’s family – when the baby is born, the doctor and nurses are silent,. not offering congratulations. Over and over again, the narrative fights with itself – “Your child is wrong and you are horrible” versus “Your child wanted to be born and is your child, screw those other people”. Finding the balance between the two is what makes the manga so riveting. It does, at least, lighten up towards the end of the first volume. Still – oof. JManga’s translation is overly formal and stilted at times (like many of their first Futabasha volumes), but this is still worth a read if you don’t mind the tone.-Sean Gaffney

PoyoPoyo’s Observation Diary, Vol. 1 | By Ru Tatsuki | Takeshobo, Manga Life | JManga.com | Windows 7, SeaMonkey 2.8
When a drunken young woman named Moe Sato spots a perfectly round kitty in an alley one night, she mistakes him for a pillow. Upon sobering up and realizing his felinity, she takes him home and he becomes the family pet, Poyo. PoyoPoyo’s Observation Diary is a 4-koma manga about Poyo’s life with the Sato family, which consists of his doting owner, Moe; her equally doting but incredibly strong father; and her rather unenthused younger brother, Hide.

I wanted to like this manga and, in truth, I honestly don’t dislike it. It’s just that I seldom find 4-koma manga funny, and this is no exception. Most of the humor involves Poyo (who really is genuinely cute) getting mistaken for other things, like a pumpkin or a loaf of bread, and it gets old after a while. It doesn’t help that every few pages, the concept is reiterated, and the cast reintroduced. There’s also a recurring gag about a neighbor cat who likes to mount Poyo, which is pretty bizarre, as well as a few strips that I just didn’t get at all.

The parts of the manga that I liked best were the parts that weren’t intended to be funny. I liked it when Poyo got revenge on the cat who beat up his overly affectionate friend, for example, and really adored anything about how tough and manly Papa Sato is a pushover where kitties are concerned. That’s enough to convince me to give the second volume a try whenever it materializes. – Michelle Smith

Working Kentauros | By est em | Libra Publishing, Zero Comics | JManga.com | Windows 7, SeaMonkey 2.8
I first learned about Hatarake, Kentauros! from the blog Brain Vs. Book. It sounded wonderful, but I wasn’t too optimistic about getting to read it in English. So, imagine my exuberance a couple of weeks ago when the title appeared in the “coming soon” section of JManga’s newsletter! And now that I’ve read it, I can attest that it’s every bit as wonderful as I had hoped.

Beginning from the premise that centaurs exist and that recently revised employment laws allow them to work alongside humans, est em depicts five different centaurs in their chosen careers. We begin with Kentaro, who has moved from Hokkaido to Tokyo to become a salaryman. Guided by his sempai, he meets with clients and arranges contracts whilst dealing with challenges like crowded trains and getting groped in the elevator. Next is the story of Shunta, who wants to make people happy with his soba, but is unable to fit in the kitchen at the shop where he is an apprentice. Subsequent chapters feature a centaur who wants to make shoes (despite his inability to wear them), a centaur model who is tired of the Photoshop tricks that make him appear human, and an aspiring NEET who only wants to run and be carefree.

For the most part, the stories are lighthearted and have positive outcomes. Shunta meets a human with similar goals, and they run a ramen cart together. The shoemaker’s wares are highly praised. The model comes out of the closet with the encouragement of a designer. The slacker is gently encouraged by another centaur and comes to appreciate the value of good work. But there’s a certain degree of poignancy as well, since the centaurs’ lifespan greatly exceeds that of humans. The most striking depiction of this truth can be found in the shoemaker chapter, as est em encapsulates a decades-long working relationship in a series of near-identical panels in which the human partner ages while the centaur remains unchanged. It made me sniffly, and really brought home the point that, though this may not be overt BL, the male-male relationships are deeply meaningful all the same.

Like the best speculative fiction, est em uses her offbeat “centaurs in the workplace” concept to communicate universal truths. Everyone wants to be free to be themselves, and no one wants to watch someone they love get sick and pass away. Even if they happen to be a centaur. Highly, highly recommended. – Michelle Smith

The Apartments of Calle Feliz

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The Apartments of Calle Feliz begins with a scene cribbed from an Audrey Tatou flick. Luca, a struggling writer, has a terrible day: he breaks up with his boyfriend, then fights with his editor, who chastises him for writing “dark” endings. (“Nobody wants to read your sad story during a recession,” he tells Luca.) Desperate for a new place to live, Luca answers an ad in the paper for an apartment on — irony alert! — Calle Feliz (a.k.a. Happy Street), in a building affectionately known as “Final Feliz,” or “Happy End.” Javi, the landlord, offers Luca a couch, rent-free, until Luca can get back on his feet. At Javi’s urging, Luca decides to pen a novel about the other tenants.

Somewhere in the middle of the prologue, my Geiger counter began registering dangerous levels of whimsy: impossible coincidences! unnatural and impulsive behavior! a character who wants to fix other people’s lives! It’s a measure of just how much I like est em that I continued reading; she’s one of a handful of authors I trust to turn such a cutesy premise into a compelling story.

What follows is a series of vignettes about Luca’s new neighbors. In the first story, for example, we meet Dino, a designer, and Salvador, his boyfriend, who are slowly drifting apart, thanks to Salvador’s eccentric behavior: he declines all social invitations, preferring instead to wander around their apartment in the nude. Though they have maintained an uneasy truce for years, an upcoming business trip threatens to destroy their relationship. Dino and Salvador’s inevitable confrontation is heartbreaking; as silly as the plot may be — doesn’t Salvador ever get cold? what about crumbs? — Salvador’s pain is real, as is Dino’s inability to understand Salvador’s unusual strategy for coping with fear of loss and change.

Other stories illustrate similar themes of loss and estrangement. In chapter four, for example, Pepe, a dollmaker, befriends Matias, a lonely teen. Matias has become painfully self-conscious about his voice; once a source of pride, the onset of puberty has lowered and coarsened it, making him ashamed to sing in public. Only his visits to Pepe give him a sense of purpose, as Pepe’s dolls provide Matias an outlet for ventriloquizing his feelings about his mother’s recent death, and about the changes to his voice.

These stories succeed in spite of their art-movie preciousness largely on the strength of est em’s artwork. Like many boys’ love artists, she draws characters with sharp features and lean, angular bodies. est em softens those shapes with energetic, scribbly linework that helps individualize her characters, whether she’s adding a bump to a long nose or deepening the circles under an older man’s eyes. These subtle imperfections help make the characters’ interior states more accessible to the reader, helping us understand how each character inhabits his skin; when Pepe or Dino stares into the distance, we can practically see what they’re thinking. Even when we’re asked to accept an outlandish premise — a man who falls in love with identical twins, a transvestite who lives with a troupe of noisy circus musicians — the characters’ reactions to one another register as true to life; we appreciate the degree to which routine, silence, and complacency erode human connection and exact a toll on the body and spirit.

est em demonstrates a similar talent for resolving her stories in a nuanced fashion. Some endings are sad, some funny; some are surprising, while others seem inevitable. Whatever happens at the end of each story feels right for the characters and their situations, however; there’s never a moment of sitcom cuteness or sentimentality.

So if you can tolerate a bit of forced whimsy, The Apartments of Calle Feliz offers bountiful rewards: elegant artwork, memorable characters, and happy endings that are neither predictable nor pat. Recommended.

THE APARTMENTS OF CALLE FELIZ • EST EM • CITRON COMICS/JMANGA • 190 pp. • NO RATING (BEST FOR MATURE READERS)

Going Digital: March 2012

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Welcome to the latest Going Digital, Manga Bookshelf’s monthly feature focusing on manga available for digital viewing or download. Each month, the Manga Bookshelf bloggers review a selection of comics we’ve read on our computers, phones, or tablet devices, to give readers a taste of what’s out there, old and new, and how well it works in digital form.

This month, MJchecks in on the iPad manga scene, while Sean takes a look a a recent JManga release for your web browser. Device, OS, and browser information is included with each review as appropriate, to let you know exactly how we accessed what we read.


iOS

Manga on the iPad: 18 month check-in

It’s been a year and a half since New York Comic Con 2010, where Yen Press announced the launch of their new iPad app. Viz followed soon after, and quickly rose to the head of the class thanks to their quickly growing catalogue and significantly lower pricing. Fast forward to NYCC 2011, where Kodansha USA finally joined the game, followed by Digital Manga Publishing a few months later.

For me, the success (or failure) of any manga app can be boiled down to three basic components: functionality, selection, and price. So now, 18 months after manga first began trickling onto the iPad, how are publishers faring on these three key issues?

Functionality

All four of the major manga apps began with strong functionality right out of the gate. Their (very similar) layouts are all fairly intuitive, with easy access to each publisher’s catalogue as well as the user’s own library of purchased manga. Each app offers high-quality images, and the ability to read in single or double page-view, as well as the ability to zoom in on (and out from) any single panel with ease. Of these apps, only Kodansha Comics’ displayed any functionality issues at launch time, with its progressive images that stall readability from page to page. Unfortunately, this issue appears to remain unresolved at the time of this writing, making Kodansha Comics’ app the least visually attractive of the manga apps to-date.

It’s worth noting here, too, that while both Viz and DMP both have browser-based stores as well, so far only Viz’s app allows for cross-platform purchases, while eManga customers must buy again to read their purchased volumes on the iPad.

Selection

Viz far outshines its mainstream competitors in this category, with over fifty titles available to-date (and more being added all the time), including super-popular titles like Naruto and One Piece, as well as more eclectic fare like House of Five Leaves and Saturn Apartments. Though I’m still hoping to see some of Viz’s out-of-print shoujo licenses show up here one day (e.g. Please Save My Earth, Banana Fish, Basara) there’s no denying that Viz is blowing everyone else away when it comes to selection on this platform. Recent additions like Hikaru no Go suggest that Viz indeed views its various digital platforms as a means for introducing long-running, completed series to new readers, and I certainly hope to see that continue.

DMP started out with a very strong catalogue, particularly for fans of its Juné and Digital Manga Guild imprints, but new additions have stalled since their recent issues with Apple censors, and it’s difficult to know at this point what the future of their app might be. BL fans can still pick up over fifty different titles (several with multiple volumes) at the time of this writing, ranging from newer releases like An Even More Beautiful Lie, Seven Days, and Blue Sheep Reverie, to older titles like Maiden Rose and Il Gatto Sul G. Though many more DMP/DMG titles are currently available to iPad readers by way of Amazon’s Kindle app (which has had its rocky moments, too), issues like image quality and reading direction make this option less than ideal.

While Yen Press’ catalogue is relatively small (25 titles as of this writing), it does have the advantage of being the only real source for Korean manhwa among these publishers to-date. Manga Bookshelf favorites like Time and Again and 13th Boy are both being released by Yen Press on this platform, and I certainly hope this will be a continuing trend. Though Yen’s manhwa licensing seems to have come to a halt over the past year or so, it would be a real treat to see series like Forest of Gray City or Very! Very! Sweet make a reappearance on the iPad so that they can be discovered by new readers. OEL series are another highlight of Yen’s app, including critical successes like Nightschool and Soulless: The Manga. Yen’s manga selection is less impressive, with titles Yotsuba&! and The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya standing as its heaviest hitters.

Bringing up the rear in this category again is Kodansha Comics, whose catalogue has still not expanded beyond the four series it launched with (Arisa, Fairy Tail, Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, and Until the Full Moon) even after six months.

Price

Here, again, Viz leads the pack, with prices starting at $4.99 a volume for Shonen Jump and Shojo Beat series, $5.99 for IKKI and Signature series, and between $6.99-$8.99 for oversized or omnibus releases. Though I still think that $5 a volume is too high to encourage real bulk purchases, it remains the best price out there for manga on the iPad. Kodansha Comics’ volumes sell for $4.99 apiece as well, though it’s worth mentioning that they ran a $2.99 special for Fairy Tail when the app first launched—a price I absolutely would pay for bulk purchases of a series I had interest in reading.

Both Yen Press and DMP lag in this category, with single volumes going for $6.99-$8.99 apiece—sometimes significantly more than print prices online—and $12.99 for larger volumes. Though BL readers, in particular, are accustomed to paying more for their habit, thrifty shoppers who are willing to put up with the downsides of the Kindle app can pretty much always get the same books for less by going that route—and have their purchase available on their other compatible devices as well, including their computers. I will admit that though I was fairly depressed not to be able to purchase Keiko Kinoshita’s You & Tonight through DMP’s far superior iPad app, it’s awfully nice to have it available on both my iPad and my laptop via Amazon’s Kindle app.

Bottom Line

Viz is the clear winner on the iPad overall, performing well in all three categories of functionality, selection, and price. DMP’s app is promising, and should they manage to resolve their issues with Apple and find a way to better serve cross-platform customers, they could become a digital powerhouse for BL fans, despite a significantly less attractive price point. Yen Press’s app lags in both selection and price, though it does hold a particular allure for manhwa fans. (Will we ever see NETCOMICS in the iPad app game?) And though Kodansha Comics does well when it comes to pricing, its dinky selection and less-than-optimum readability diminish its worth significantly.

What do you suppose this year’s New York Comic Con will bring? – MJ


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Anesthesiologist Hana Vol. 2 | By Nakao Hakua and Kappei Matsumoto | Futabasha, Manga Action | JManga.com | Windows XP, Firefox 11.0
Volume Two of this medical series continues to pummel our heroine with exhausting daily living. I’d say crises, but she’s an anesthesiologist, so to a certain degree this is what she does. She has professors teaching a class putting her on the spot to embarrass her, the hospital changing to more of a trauma unit center (meaning longer hours), and most of all a new doctor in the unit, Hiura, who is a complete and utter jerk to her He’s constantly yelling at her and forcing her to step up her game, and is rude to her other colleagues… especially Dr. Kobayakawa, the troubled young doctor Hana hit it off with last volume. Of course, those familiar with this type of manga will know immediately that he is the sort of person that doesn’t suffer fools gladly. He dislikes Kobayakawa for his fear and wasted potential, and is so hard on Hana because of her increasing skills and pluck – he teaches by rudeness, basically.

He also, in yelling at Hana, basically notes that her breasts are big, something this manga never really allows us to forget. There’s no gratuitous shower scene here, but instead we get a new trauma doctor, Kenshi, who simply walks up, marvels at her breasts, and starts to fondle them. My jaw dropped briefly, and I am once again reminded of the huge sexual harassment gulf between here and Japan, in that Hana didn’t slug him. Yes, this is supposed to take place in the mid-90s rather than the time it was written, but sheesh. This doctor later gets a nice moment where he tries to teach Hana a basic truth – patients die, and that doctors simply have to accept this and try to save the next one just as hard – but he can’t read her as well as Hiura, so it doesn’t really take. In any case, if his schtick of groping Hana becomes his running gag, I can’t say I’ll be too fond of him.

There’s a lot of medical stuff going on here, and like the first volume if the reader doesn’t want to wade through some jargon they may be in trouble..That said, it’s not too difficult, and the basic premise remains the same – a doctor’s life is very hard, and every day is a struggle to wonder if it’s worth it. Especially given that these are anesthesiologists, so they don’t have the ‘these are my life-saving hands!’ aspect that, say, heart surgeons would. Hana, like the heroine of Nao Go Straight, can be too empathic at times – something contrasted with the new trauma doctors introduced towards the end. The best chapters were the two-parters, one dealing with the patient who loses his life, as I’d mentioned, and the other with how anesthesiologists have immense trouble with morbidly obese people. Hiura wants to harness Hana’s passion, and avoid having her become like Kobayakawa. Can he do it? To be continued! -Sean Gaffney

Disclosure: MJ is currently under contract with Digital Manga Publishing’s Digital Manga Guild, as necessitated for her ongoing report Inside the DMG. Any compensation earned by MJin her role as an editor with the DMG will be donated to the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund.

Recorder and Randsell, Vol. 1

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Most of the 4-koma manga I’ve read have been stamped from the same mold. There’s a quartet of teenage girls, each of whom has one personality trait, one talent or obsession, and one distinguishing physical characteristic. They all attend the same cram school, or live in the same dorm, and participate in the same everyday activities: studying for tests, planning trips to the beach, baking cakes. What passes for humor arises mostly from the clash of personalities or interests: the klutz accidentally pours water on the neat freak’s homework, or the brain chastises the compulsive gamer for playing another round of Warcraft instead of hitting the books.

Recorder and Randsell is an interesting variation on this theme, replacing the quartet of girls with mismatched siblings: Atsumi, a high school sophomore who looks eight, and Atsushi, a fifth grader who looks like a college student.

As one might guess from the characters’ appearance, most of the jokes revolve around mistaken identity. Atsumi’s best friend, the well-developed Sayo, pretends that Atsumi is her daughter to keep creepy guys at bay, while Atsushi’s grade-school pals dress him up as a parent so they can attend a cultural festival without a chaperone. Not all of the humor is PG-rated: in one of the series’ many running gags, Atsushi’s pretty young teacher is flustered by her student’s deceptively mature physique, her humiliation compounded by strangers mistakenly assuming that the puppy-like Atsushi is, in fact, her boyfriend.

To be sure, many 4-koma titles are built on the same foundation as Recorder and Randsell: the characters are easy to grasp; they follow clearly established patterns of behavior; and they seldom learn from their mistakes. What makes Recorder and Randsell funny is Higeyashi’s ability to devise new scenarios that yield the same disastrous outcomes; no matter what Atsumi and Atsushi do, or where they go, other people misread their respective ages. Higeyashi is also unconcerned with making her characters lovable, which grants her license to be weird, edgy, and a little mean to them — something that almost never happens in Sunshine Sketch or Ichiroh!!, where the characters’ behavior is carefully calibrated to trigger the reader’s awwwwwwwww reflex.

Also working in Recorder and Randsell‘s favor is the small but well-defined supporting cast. Meme Higeshiya gives each of these characters a clear role to play: Atsushi’s sidekicks, for example, remind us that Atsushi is on the brink of becoming a teenager, as they simultaneously envy the attention Atsushi receives from female classmates and tease him about his size. (“He’s a huge target!” one gleefully declares at the beginning of a dodge ball game.) The best supporting player, however, is Take, the Miyagawa’s next-door neighbor, a thirty-something man who can’t hold a steady job. Though we never see his face, Take is a frequent visitor to the Miyagawa household, unloading unwanted clothing on Atsushi whenever he breaks up with a girlfriend. (“Naoko gave me that shirt… Sachiko picked out those pants… Keiko bought me those shoes,” Take tells a bewildered Atsushi. “Stop or I won’t want to wear them anymore!” Atsushi complains.)

The art, like the script, gets the job done. Higeshiya plays up the physical contrast between the siblings, rendering Atsumi as a tiny, doll-faced girl with enormous eyes and Atsushi as a tall shojo prince. On closer inspection, the reader will see that Higeyashi is skillful enough to capture her characters’ respective ages through their body language and facial expressions; Atsushi clearly comports himself like a child, with wildly exaggerated movements and quicksilver moods, while Atsumi assumes the scolding posture of an adult.

I’d be the first to admit that such a slender premise couldn’t sustain a eight- or ten-volume series; by the fifth time the police arrest Atsushi on suspicion of being a pedophile, the punchline falls flat. Read in short bursts, however, the effect is like a good newspaper strip, offering an agreeable mixture of predictable and not-so-predictable jokes. Recommended.

RECORDER AND RANDSELL, VOL. 1 • BY MEME HIGEYASHI • TAKESHOBO CO., LTD. (JMANGA) • 115 pages • RATING: TEEN PLUS (13+)

Recorder and Randsell

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Most of the 4-koma manga I’ve read have been stamped from the same mold. There’s a quartet of teenage girls, each of whom has one personality trait, one talent or obsession, and one distinguishing physical characteristic. They all attend the same cram school, or live in the same dorm, and participate in the same everyday activities: studying for tests, planning trips to the beach, baking cakes. What passes for humor arises mostly from the clash of personalities or interests: the klutz accidentally pours water on the neat freak’s homework, or the brain chastises the compulsive gamer for playing another round of Warcraft instead of hitting the books.

Recorder and Randsell is an interesting variation on this theme, replacing the quartet of girls with mismatched siblings: Atsumi, a high school sophomore who looks eight, and Atsushi, a fifth grader who looks like a college student.

As one might guess from the characters’ appearance, most of the jokes revolve around mistaken identity. Atsumi’s best friend, the well-developed Sayo, pretends that Atsumi is her daughter to keep creepy guys at bay, while Atsushi’s grade-school pals dress him up as a parent so they can attend a cultural festival without a chaperone. Not all of the humor is PG-rated: in one of the series’ many running gags, Atsushi’s pretty young teacher is flustered by her student’s deceptively mature physique, her humiliation compounded by strangers mistakenly assuming that the puppy-like Atsushi is, in fact, her boyfriend.

To be sure, many 4-koma titles are built on the same foundation as Recorder and Randsell: the characters are easy to grasp; they follow clearly established patterns of behavior; and they seldom learn from their mistakes. What makes Recorder and Randsell funny is Higeyashi’s ability to devise new scenarios that yield the same disastrous outcomes; no matter what Atsumi and Atsushi do, or where they go, other people misread their respective ages. Higeyashi is also unconcerned with making her characters lovable, which grants her license to be weird, edgy, and a little mean to them — something that almost never happens in Sunshine Sketch or Ichiroh!!, where the characters’ behavior is carefully calibrated to trigger the reader’s awwwwwwwww reflex.

Also working in Recorder and Randsell‘s favor is the small but well-defined supporting cast. Meme Higeshiya gives each of these characters a clear role to play: Atsushi’s sidekicks, for example, remind us that Atsushi is on the brink of becoming a teenager, as they simultaneously envy the attention Atsushi receives from female classmates and tease him about his size. (“He’s a huge target!” one gleefully declares at the beginning of a dodge ball game.) The best supporting player, however, is Take, the Miyagawa’s next-door neighbor, a thirty-something man who can’t hold a steady job. Though we never see his face, Take is a frequent visitor to the Miyagawa household, unloading unwanted clothing on Atsushi whenever he breaks up with a girlfriend. (“Naoko gave me that shirt… Sachiko picked out those pants… Keiko bought me those shoes,” Take tells a bewildered Atsushi. “Stop or I won’t want to wear them anymore!” Atsushi complains.)

The art, like the script, gets the job done. Higeshiya plays up the physical contrast between the siblings, rendering Atsumi as a tiny, doll-faced girl with enormous eyes and Atsushi as a tall shojo prince. On closer inspection, the reader will see that Higeyashi is skillful enough to capture her characters’ respective ages through their body language and facial expressions; Atsushi clearly comports himself like a child, with wildly exaggerated movements and quicksilver moods, while Atsumi assumes the scolding posture of an adult.

I’d be the first to admit that such a slender premise couldn’t sustain a eight- or ten-volume series; by the fifth time the police arrest Atsushi on suspicion of being a pedophile, the punchline falls flat. Read in short bursts, however, the effect is like a good newspaper strip, offering an agreeable mixture of predictable and not-so-predictable jokes. Recommended.

RECORDER AND RANDSELL, VOL. 1 • BY MEME HIGEYASHI • TAKESHOBO CO., LTD. (JMANGA) • 115 pages • RATING: TEEN PLUS (13+)

Hyakusho Kizoku, Vol. 1

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Drawn in a loose, improvisational style, Hiromu Arakawa’s Hyakusho Kizuko may remind readers of the gag strips that round out every volume of her wildly successful Fullmetal Alchemist. That’s not a knock on Hyakusho, by the way; like her fellow sister-in-shonen Yellow Tanabe, Arakawa’s omake are every bit as entertaining as her more polished stories, offering her a chance to riff on favorite characters, complain about her job, and reflect on her previous career as a dairy farmer.

In Hyakusho Kizuko, however, the focus is squarely on the joys and hardships of farm life, rather than the pressures of bringing a popular comic to press. Arakawa shares humorous anecdotes about her ongoing war with the Hokkaido squirrel, a skilled crop thief, as well as her family’s penchant for using animal medicines to cure their own ailments. She also waxes poetic about the temperament of cows — apparently, they make great pets — and celebrates Hokkaido’s important role in feeding the rest of Japan. (As she notes in chapter seven, Japan’s dependence on imported food would rise from 50% to 80% if Hokkaido stopped supplying the other islands with its agricultural products.)

Arakawa doesn’t neglect her life as an artist; throughout the stories, we see her interact with her editor, who’s decidedly skeptical about the marketability of agricultural manga. “How come you’ve written about poop two chapters in a row?” her exasperated editor asks. “In a farmer’s story, poop is your friend,” Arakawa cheerfully counters. Besides, Arakawa notes, her manga explores other topics: “I also mention cow teats,” she declares.

As these matter-of-fact exchanges suggest, Arakawa is eager to educate Japanese readers about where their food comes from. She drops facts about food consumption, discusses cow bloodlines, decries government interference in dairy production, and describes what happens to animals that don’t contribute to a farm’s bottom line. She does so with a light hand, however, interspersing the more serious discussions about sustainability with sight gags involving wild bears, foolish tourists, and barn cats.

None of these passages would be entertaining (or edifying) were it not for a solid adaptation. I’ve complained in the past about other JManga titles, which sometimes suffered from overly literal translations; witness Otaku-Type Delusional Girl, better known in English as Fujoshi Rumi. Hyakusho Kizuko, however, is a pleasant surprise; the translator has done an excellent job of rendering the text in fluid, conversational English that’s a genuine pleasure to read. In fact, the best compliment I could pay the translator is to note that I actually laughed out loud reading several passages.

I’d be the first to admit that Hyakusho Kizuko won’t be every FMA fan’s idea of a good read; folks who like Arakawa best when she’s staging magical combat may find the information-dense passages too didactic for their tastes. For curious city dwellers, however, Hyakusho Kizuko will be a revelation, offering them an entertaining look at the day-to-day operations of a working farm. Highly recommended.

HYAKUSHO KIZOKU, VOL. 1 • BY HIROMU ARAKAWA • SHINSOKAN PUBLISHING CO., LTD. • 139 pp. • NO RATING