kodansha

Knight of the Ice, Vol 7

November 3, 2021 by Anna N

Knight of the Ice Volume 7 by Yayoi Ogawa

We don’t get a ton of josei series translated, so I do cherish the ones that come out in print like Knight of the Ice which has a winning combination of figure skating drama combined with Ogawa’s quirky sense of humor. While many of the plot points of the series center around Kokoro’s difficulties training and winning competitions, this volume opens with Chitose dealing with her heart condition. Kokoro’s hard-nosed manager Moriyama visits Chitose in the hospital, and it is great to see how much she cares even though she goes to great lengths to hide her emotions. Chitose doesn’t want to derail Kokoro’s concentration by having him worry about her, so she decides to both postpone having surgery and wants to keep her condition a secret.

For the rest of the volume, Kokoro is vaguely uneasy as he trains for his latest competitions, as he can tell that Chitose is hiding something but he isn’t sure what it is. He’s dealing with his ongoing issues of pushing his technical abilities but sometimes struggling to be artistic and expressive enough in his skating. “Yayoi Ogawa” shows up to dash off a sketch for an inspiring new costume. Ogawa’s dynamic and expressive art makes the skating competitions compelling, as all the skaters are dealing with their own struggles. Kokoro has some triumphs and setbacks, and has still not yet reached his full potential. I’m enjoying seeing the story in Knight of the Ice unfold.

Knight of the Ice Vols 2 and 3

October 19, 2020 by Anna N

Knight of the Ice Volumes 2 and 3 by Yayoi Ogawa

This series is rapidly becoming one of my favorite pandemic distraction manga, and I started it fully enthusiastic for a new Ogawa manga. I haven’t felt disappointed so far! The first volume did a good job setting up tiny magazine editor Chitose’s secret relationship with her childhood friend renowned figure skater Kokoro. While this is certainly a josei series, Kokoro’s extreme shyness and sheltered secret otaku lifestyle makes the romance aspect of the manga as slowly developing as any series with high school protagonists. This is a comfortable pace for the reader, because after the first volume the series is able to settle in for a little bit and introduce more of the supporting cast and further explore the world of high-stakes international figure skating.

Given that Chitose’s boss Sawada seems to be taking an unusual interest in one of his junior employees, it isn’t too surprising that she gets caught sneaking off in order to cast her magical girl spell on Kokoro right before he competes. When a fan spots Chitose and Kokoro together and starts posting rumors online, Kokoro’s dynamic and scary manager Moriyama invents the cover story that Chitose is part of Kokoro’s coaching team. As Chitose spends more consistent time with Kokoro, she begins to be more aware of her feelings and it is clear that Kokoro is using his feelings for his oldest friend to motivate him to perform even better in his sport. At the same time Sawada has an uncanny knack for popping up whenever Chitose is experiencing a moment of extreme distress.

As the figure skating season unfolds, Kokoro is able to turn in some of his best performances thanks to some unorthodox motivation from Chitose, but he’s also plagued by a nagging injury. While the slowly developing romance between Chitose and Kokoro keeps moving forward (there are kisses on the cheek!), I found myself enjoying the quirky supporting cast in the series more and more. Moriyama’s blunt pronouncements about just how far Kokoro can go with his potential relationship certainly provide a contrast to the more innocent romance that’s happening. Kokoro’s twin sisters intervene when another skater is about to get taken advantage of, and if Kokoro doesn’t have enough pressure to deal with it becomes more clear that his career and public image is being controlled behind the scenes by his father. Chitose is starting to become more confident about advocating for herself and her own feelings. Between skating drama, romance, family issues, and Ogawa’s quirky humor there’s plenty to keep a reader entertained in Knight of the Ice.

Knight of the Ice, Vol 1

March 23, 2020 by Anna N

Knight of the Ice Volume 1 by Yayoi Ogawa

I think Tramps Like Us (Kimi Wa Pet) started coming out here in the mid 2000s, and 15+ years is a long time to wait between Yayoi Ogawa series. Fortunately for anyone in the need of sports-based josei distraction in these trying times, Knight of the Ice serves up plenty of Ogawa’s off-kilter humor along with workplace romance hijinks. The heroine of this story is Chitose, who works at a magazine. She’s so incredibly tiny that she’s sometimes mistaken for a child, which causes her some problems in the workplace.

Chitose’s childhood friend Kokoro is a champion figure skater, who is able to keep up his flawless facade on the ice only when Chitose is present to cast a magical girl spell on him by quoting the anime they were both obsessed with as children. Having to suddenly disappear right around ice skating championships also causes problems when Chitose has to duck out of work without any clear explanations. Her boss Sawada keeps making references to her tiny size by giving her a nickname that references the Moomins, but he also seems to be a little more aware of Chitose as a woman than he should be. The set-up of a figure skater with severe performance anxiety is funny by itself, but Ogawa also adds additional humor with Kokoro’s domanatrix-like manager, and the occasional appearance of “Yayoi Ogawa”, an old school friend of Chitose who occasionally appears to offer commentary and life advice. Ogawa’s art is distinctive and energetic, capturing Kokoro’s graceful poses along with plenty of emotional outbursts and quieter moments of romantic confusion. Ogawa does a good job slowly setting up the potential love triangle between Chitose, Sawada, and Kokoro. Her quirky sensibilities make this first volume extremely engaging. I’m on board for this whole series!

Witch Hat Atelier, Vols 1-3

September 22, 2019 by Anna N

Witch Hat Atelier Volumes 1-3 by Kamome Shirahama

It is rare to find a series that is so fully realized in terms of both art and story that there is absolutely nothing to nitpick, but Witch Hat Atelier is one of those manga. Coco is a young girl who helps her mother who is a seamstress. Coco lives in a world where magic is practiced only by a select few, but she’s extremely curious about how it all works. Her life is changed when she sees a flying carriage land near her mother’s shop and she runs into a mysterious gentleman who wears glasses with one tinted lens. Coco ends up cutting a length of cloth for the man, and she recounts a story that ties in with her fascination for magic. When she was younger, she encountered an enchanter who wore a hat decorated with a single eye, fringed with fabric that obscured his face. He offered to sell Coco a book of magic spells and even gave her a wand. Coco soon found out that people need to be born to magic, and gave up on her dream. When the flying carriage is damaged, the mysterious man identifies himself as Qifrey the Witch, and he decides to fix it. Coco spies on him and discovers that magic isn’t something one is born with, it relies on careful drawing with a pen. She promptly decides to experiment.

Like most books that feature a child adventurer and inconvenient parents, Coco’s mother is quickly dispatched when Coco’s first spell goes awry, turning her into a statue. The only solution is for Coco to dedicate herself to learning magic in order to reverse the spell. She becomes Qifrey’s newest apprentice, and travels with him to his school where he is already teaching several other girls her age. Coco has an enthusiasm for knowledge and a unique way of looking at magic but her fellow apprentices are suspicious of her. Coco’s roommate Agott in particular has a cranky attitude which backed up with unusual expertise in magic. The world of magic can be dangerous, for example when Agott goads Coco into taking a test that she’s unprepared for. The girls later get whisked away to a labyrinth guarded by a dragon due to some machinations of the witch with the eyeball hat, and later help with a rescue. The world is filled with odd magical contraptions that take the place of technology, like a water bubble for transporting water, bricks that light up under people’s feet, and shoes that are enchanted to give the power of flight.

Shirahama has a detailed style that is reminiscent of illustrations that might be in a classic childrens’ book. Panels are occasionally decorated with botanical motifs, with a nod to art nouveau. The various costumes of the witches have elaborate decoration, and spells look intricate, causing effects that look both elegant and unnatural. The worldbuilding and illustrations are lovely, but there’s an undercurrent of menace, as the one-eyed hat magical practitioner is intervening in Coco’s life for an unknown reason. The secretiveness of the witches also causes Coco to be threatened with a memory wipe spell multiple times. Her status as an outsider gives her an innovative and instinctive feel for magic, and she often manages to improvise spells due to her unique mindset. Coco’s new found family keeps expanding as the series develops, and it seems like she’s meeting other magic practitioners that ultimately will help her if there’s a confrontation with the dark witches who seem to be far too interested in her. There’s certainly some Harry Potter parallels, but not enough to make it seem like Witch Hat Atelier isn’t original. I’m equally entertained by both the art and the story in Witch Hat Atelier, and highly recommend it if you are looking for a fantasy series that lets the reader disappear into another world for a little while.

Shojo Fight, Vol. 1

October 1, 2017 by Anna N

Shojo FIGHT! Volume 1 by Yoko Nihonbashi

I’m very happy about Kodansha’s recent investment in digital manga, since it means that some titles that might be not commercial enough to get a print release are being translated. At the same time, I’ve been burned by digital manga in the past, and I only have so much budgeted for digital comics a month, so I’ve been a little picky with my purchases. I was very interested to see a girls volleyball title coming out from Kodansha, because I do enjoy a good sports manga. The first volume of Shojo FIGHT! is largely set-up for the whole series, and it packs an impressive amount of drama in one short volume.

Neri spends her time on the bench for her middle school volleyball team. She seems to be content to be incredibly unassertive and dismissed, but she has a group of friends and fans who look after her. The manga starts by showing the dynamics of Neri’s current team. Koyuki seems to be noticed as much for her looks as her volleyball talent, while Chiyo is the seemingly evil teem member who is comfortable saying horrible things to everyone. While Neri doesn’t do much in the way of athletics in the first few pages, it is clear that she has the aura of somebody special. Neri has a built in fanclub that includes Odagiri, a girl who spends her time drawing volleyball manga. There are also the brothers Shikishima. The younger blond Shikishima is a carefree volleyball player while his his older brother with the dark hair has the burden of being the heir to his family’s osteopathic clinic, having magic injury soothing fingers, and also playing volleyball.

When Neri does get off the bench, it is clear that she’s been hiding her skills as well as her single-minded intensity towards the sport of volleyball. Part of the reason why she’s been able to hide so long is because her school tends to give starting positions based on the height of the players. Neri becomes aggressive and vocal, yelling at Koyuki to get her head in the game. Neri and Koyuki end up colliding when they go after the same ball. Neri’s travails in volleyball would be enough to carry this volume, but she also has a family tragedy that she’s dealing with as well. Slowly the details are revealed as the story progresses, and while Neri’s set up for a different type of volleyball career as she enters high school, she’s still dealing with plenty of baggage. It seems like her friends are always going to be around to support her, especially Shikishima the elder.

Part of my enjoyment of Shojo FIGHT! is due to the novelty factor. Perhaps because I haven’t been able to read many female-oriented sports manga, I found Neri’s portrayal as a volleyball hero with athletic prowess and intensity that could cause situations to get out of control refreshing, just because I’m much more used to seeing this type of character as a male protagonist. If this had been the 5th female volleyball manga that I’d read instead of the 2nd, I might not find it quite as charming though. Other reviewers have noted that the art of this volume looks very similar to OEL manga, with smooth dark lines, sparse backgrounds, and lacking the delicacy that most shoujo fans might expect. I was halfway wondering if it was as I was reading it if it was OEL, but as I looked up Shojo FIGHT, it indeed came out in Japan originally in the mid 2000s. Nihonbashi’s style made me wonder if it really was that unique, or if it comes down to just the type of series that tend to get translated for a North American audience. Nihonbashi’s high contrast style gives Shojo FIGHT a more graphic, less flowery sort of look, and while she is good at facial expressions, I did find myself wondering at times if Neri had variants of her stunned and shell shocked look as she grapples with her emotions. I did enjoy all the distinctive character designs. With such a large cast, having distinct looks for the characters helps the reader greatly.

There was enough drama for two volumes in the first volume of Shojo FIGHT!, but at the same time I’m reserving judgement a bit, because I expect the narrative to settle down in the second volume. I’m hoping to see if Neri is able to fight off her inner demons a bit for the sake of volleyball.

Vinland Saga, Vol. 9

September 24, 2017 by Ash Brown

Creator: Makoto Yukimura
Translator: Stephen Paul
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632364456
Released: June 2017
Original release: 2016
Awards: Japan Media Arts Award, Kodansha Manga Award

Having read and greatly enjoyed Makoto Yukimura’s near-future science fiction series Planetes, I was very curious to see how he would apply his character-driven approach to Vinland Saga, a manga with a historical setting. The resulting work is phenomenal–in addition to earning multiple awards, including a Japan Media Arts Award and a Kodansha Manga Award, Vinland Saga quickly became and remains one of my favorite manga series currently being released in English. The ninth hardcover omnibus of Vinland Saga was published in 2017 by Kodansha Comics with a translation by Stephen Paul. It collects the seventeenth and eighteenth volumes of the original Japanese series, both of which were released in 2016, in addition to the continuation of “Ask Yukimura,” a section of questions and answers providing further insight into the series and its creation which is exclusive to the English-language edition of Vinland Saga. “Ask Yukimura” was absent from the eighth omnibus, so I was very happy to see its return.

Hild, a skilled hunter, may have saved Thorfinn’s life as he and his companions were accosted by a man-eating bear, but now that she knows exactly who he is, she is determined to take that life from him. Thorfinn has killed countless people during his time employed as a mercenary in pursuit of his own revenge, drastically altering the lives of the victims’ surviving family members and loved ones. It’s a past that continues to haunt him and Hild isn’t the only person to have come to harm due to his actions or who he will have to confront once again. Thorfinn hopes to atone for the death, violence, and destruction he has helped to bring down upon others by establishing a new nation of peace away from the wars, conflict, and struggles for power that plague Europe. But it is a very difficult thing to try to put a stop to a cycle of systemic retribution condoned by society. Thorfinn has convinced others of the worthiness of his cause, but now he must convince Hild who has every right to want him dead.

All-consuming revenge is one of the major themes of Vinland Saga. Yukimura explores how such a single-minded pursuit can dramatically change a person, impacting them on a deep, psychological level, and examines how that internalized violence is reflected in and perpetuated by the world at large. Much of Vinland Saga up until this point has been devoted to Thorfinn’s private struggles and growth as he has tried to come to terms with the irrevocable damage that he has wrought not only upon others but upon himself. With the introduction of Hild, Vinalnd Saga turns its focus outward, delving into the long-lasting and increasingly far-reaching effects of Thorfinn’s past misdeeds. Although this isn’t the first time that the series has shown this sort of tragedy, never before has it been made so cuttingly personal in the manga. Hild isn’t some nameless character met passing; Yukimura shows the entirety of Hild’s story–her life before her family was killed in front of her eyes and how she grew to become the fierce opponent who Thorfinn has no option but to face.

The parallels between Hild and Thorfinn’s individual quests for revenge are numerous although there are still significant differences and Thorfinn is much further along on his personal journey–while he’s chosen a path of peace, it remains to be seen what choices Hild will ultimately make fore herself. But even though Thorfinn is pursuing pacifism, he continues to be drawn into violent confrontations. A large part of why I find Vinland Saga such a tremendous series is due to the compelling character development that it exhibits, but another reason the manga is so incredibly engaging is the result of Yukimura’s spectacular action and fight sequences. They are exciting as well as meaningful, serving not only to move the plot along but frequently to provide an external expression of the characters’ internal struggles. How they fight and what they are willing to risk goes far to reveal who they truly are and what they value most. Vinland Saga continues to greatly impress me; I’m so glad that it’s being translated and look forward to future volumes with immense anticipation.

Peach Heaven Vol. 1

May 10, 2017 by Anna N

So far, I’m having a mixed experience with Kodansha’s digital line. I like Chihayafuru and The Full-Time Wife Escapist (review of that coming soon), but I am not thrilled with A Springtime With Ninjas or Peach Heaven. In a way this is good, because I’m not having to set aside funds for so many digital series!

Peach Heaven treads familiar ground as the hapless heroine Momoko is blackmailed into being a slave to an evil male model – is there any other type of model in shoujo manga? Momoko has taken over her father’s writing persona and is cranking out erotica books in order to support her sick mother and younger brother. She toils on her writing all night, only to fall asleep in school the next day. Her friends think she’s hopelessly addicted to online gaming. Through a series of events that I no longer remember, Ranmaru the male model finds out about her double life and starts blackmailing her. Momoko is forced to bring Ranmaru lunch every day at school, and he continues to berate her for her life choices and makes fun of her for being a virgin.

Of course, various situations come up when Ranmaru has to rescue or intervene in Momoko’s life, indicating that he might be not so terrible after all. There isn’t really any suspense or dramatic tension in this manga. While I generally enjoy trashy romance manga, that’s usually only in cases where there’s a bit of a sense of humor or some over the top soap opera element to the storylines, and I don’t see anyone in Peach Heaven, say, abruptly deciding to become a priest or dealing with the aftereffects of personality-changing hypnotism. I was hoping that Peach Heaven would be another fun guilty pleasure manga, but it is just not very interesting. The rote plotting isn’t really complimented by the art, which is competent but doesn’t exhibit any individual sense of style.

Ichi-F: A Worker’s Graphic Memoir of the Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant

March 16, 2017 by Ash Brown

Creator: Kazuto Tatsuta
Translator: Stephen Paul
U.S. Publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632363558
Released: March 2017
Original release: 2014-2015
Awards: Manga Open

Although Ichi-F: A Worker’s Graphic Memoir of the Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant isn’t Kazuto Tatsuta’s first manga, it is very likely the one for which he will be best known. Based on his experiences as a worker at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Plant, the memoir provides an important and highly personal perspective on the ongoing recovery efforts following Japan’s combined earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear disasters of March 2011. Initially submitted as an amateur work, Ichi-F won the Manga Open Grand Prize in 2013 which led to its continuation as a three-volume series published between 2014 and 2015. The English-language edition of Ichi-F was released by Kodansha Comics in March 2017. The entire series, including Tatsuta’s original one-shot, has been collected into a single, massive omnibus formatted to read left-to-right. Also included is an introduction by the journalist Karyn Nishimura-Poupée and an exclusive interview with the creator. A tremendous amount of work from the translator Stephen Paul and others at Kodansha has gone into Ichi-F in an effort to make the manga as accurate and as widely accessible as possible.

On March 11, 2011 a massive earthquake centered off of the northeast coast of Japan triggered a devastating tsunami which ultimately lead to multiple meltdowns at the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant. Many people in Fukushima were required to evacuate and have yet been able to return to their homes due to the radiation levels in the area. Cleanup and recovery work, including the decommissioning of the plant, continues to this day and will continue for quite some time. Most of the people directly involved in the work are from the Fukushima area but others like Tatsuta (a pen name taken from the region for purposes of anonymity) are outsiders drawn by the promise of high wages, personal curiosity, and altruism. Despite the need for workers, it took Tatsuta more than a year after the disaster to secure clearance for employment at Ichi-F, one of the local names for the Fukushima Daiichi plant. Initially he was assigned to a shelter where he helped to manage a rest area for the construction workers, but eventually he would become one of those construction workers himself, at one point even serving on a team working inside one of the plant’s reactor buildings.

Ichi-F is primarily about the day-to-day lives and work of those employed at the nuclear power plant but Tatsuta also addresses some of the related recovery efforts and the issues caused by them in the Fukushima region as well as the some of the complications surrounding the publication of his memoir. In part the manga was created in response to the misleading, sensationalistic, and often inaccurate way that Fukushima and the surrounding areas are portrayed in the media. This is not to say there haven’t been problems with the decommissioning and cleanup–even Tatsuta’s account reveals social conflicts and questionable employment practices, not to mention that exposure to high levels of radiation is inherently dangerous–but some of Fukushima’s poor representation is due to ignorance and fearmongering. In fact, excepting the radiation concerns, much of the work outlined in Ichi-F, while being incredibly important, is outright mundane. Tatsuta explains in detail the safety procedures and regulations intended to protect the workers at the plant, showing just how difficult, time-consuming, and challenging the cleanup efforts are. Careful vigilance, caution, and concerted effort are absolutely necessary, especially to counter desensitization to the dangers involved, and there is always room for improvement.

Tatsuta’s own personal experiences while working in Fukushima are what inform Ichi-F. As such, it cannot provide a comprehensive look at the disaster and recovery efforts as a whole, but it does offer an individual perspective critical to the larger context. Tatsuta is an insider telling a story that’s often left untold because it isn’t particularly dramatic or exciting–the manga is a thorough, informative account of the work being done to decommission the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear Power Plant. The manga can be a bit text-heavy at times, and the way that it has been modified to read left-to-right occasionally interrupts the narrative’s visual flow, but the memoir is both fascinating and accessible. Ichi-F is also the story of the people involved in the cleanup and the close relationships that Tatsuta develops while in Fukushima. What in many ways started out as just a job ends with Tatsuta caring deeply about and for his colleagues at the plant, the locals and residents of Fukushima, and the area itself. While the lasting effects of the nuclear disaster in Fukushima are tragic and some areas remain incredibly hazardous, conditions are slowly improving and recovery and revitalization is happening partly thanks to the efforts of Tatsuta and the other workers shown in Ichi-F.

Vinland Saga, Vol. 8

January 21, 2017 by Ash Brown

Creator: Makoto Yukimura
Translator: Stephen Paul
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781682335406
Released: December 2016
Original release: 2014-2015
Awards: Japan Media Arts Award, Kodansha Manga Award

For a time it seemed as though the fate of the English-language edition of Makoto Yukimura’s epic award-winning manga series Vinland Saga was in question. Happily though, Kodansha Comics has been able to continue releasing the series. While the seventh omnibus reached a satisfying conclusion to one of the series’ major story arcs, it was still obvious that Yukimura had more to tell. I honestly believe that Vinland Saga is one of the strongest manga currently being released in English. It is also a personal favorite of mine, so I was thrilled when the eighth hardcover omnibus was finally released in 2016, collecting the fifteenth and sixteenth volumes of the original Japanese edition published between 2014 and 2015. Unlike the past few omnibuses of Vinland Saga, there is no additional content directly relating to the series (I was sad not to see the continuation of the “Ask Yukimura” section), but it does include an extensive preview of Kazuhiro Fujita’s The Ghost and the Lady, another historically-inspired manga available from Kodansha.

Finally free from his life of slavery but still bound by the violence of his past, Thorfinn travels back to Iceland in order to briefly reunite with his family before setting into motion his plans for the future. Accompanied by Einar, Leif, and “Bug-Eyes,” Thorfinn intends to colonize Vinland in an attempt to create a peaceful settlement far removed from the wars and violence seemingly inherent to the Norse way of life. But before that they must first secure the resources and supplies needed for the venture and support from others will be hard to come by–Thorfinn has very little to offer a potential investor except for ideals and his own life. Initially it seemed that they could secure the aid of Halfdan, a wealthy landowner who was already planning to become a relative of Leif’s by marrying his son to the widow of Lief’s brother, but then the wedding doesn’t go quite as planned. Thorfinn and the others may very well have gained themselves a few new enemies when they flee Iceland with Gudrid, the runaway bride.

From the beginning, many of the women in Vinland Saga have been strong, memorable characters (Thorfinn’s sister and mother in particular are marvelous), but for the most part the focus of the series has been on the stories of the men. However, with the eighth omnibus there is a notable change in the manga with he introduction of Gudrid who becomes one of the main characters of Vinland Saga. In fact, a great deal of the plot currently directly revolves around her. I absolutely adore Gudrid. Like Thorfinn, she is struggling against the constraints of what is considered acceptable by the culture and traditions of their society. She has absolutely no interest in marriage or in behaving like a “proper” woman; her heart has always been set on exploring the world around her and expanding her horizons. Gudrid repeatedly proves that her worth is equal to or even greater than that of a man. Eventually, her persistence and brashness pays off although the circumstances surrounding her becoming a sailor are admittedly less than ideal.

Gudrid isn’t the only great female character to be introduced in the eighth Vinland Saga omnibus. Among others, there is also Astrid, Halfdan’s wife, and Hild, a young woman who proves once more that Thorfinn can never truly escape his past misdeeds. While many of the previous omnibuses have been battle-oriented, the eight omnibus tends to pay more attention to the characters themselves and their relationships. However, there are still a few excellent action sequences and Yukimura’s artwork continues to be dynamic and dramatic even when physical violence is not as prominent. For example, Halfdan exudes an aura of intensity and power–the way he is drawn and visually framed is frequently reminiscent of the way King Canute was portrayed, emphasizing his status and influence. This, of course, makes it even more satisfying when Astrid calmly, quietly, and fearlessly puts her husband in his place. (I really hope to see more of Astrid in the future.) Vinland Saga remains an incredibly well-done manga. With a growing cast of fantastic, complex characters, an engrossing story exploring themes of freedom and violence, and excellent artwork, I can’t wait to read more.

Short Takes: Deadman Wonderland and Livingstone

January 6, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

The November release of Jinsei Kataoka and Tomohiro Maekawa’s Livingstone provided me a nifty excuse to try Deadman Wonderland, an earlier series written and illustrated by Katoaka. Fans of Deadman Wonderland may know its complex licensing history here in the US: Tokyopop was its first publisher, releasing five volumes before going bankrupt in 2011. VIZ acquired the series in 2013, and is now just two volumes shy of the series’ grand finale, which arrives in February 2016.

Deadman Wonderland, Vol. 1
Story & Art by Jinsei Kataoka and Kazuma Kondou
Rated T+, for Older Teens
VIZ Media, $9.99

In the not-so-distant future, visitors flock to Deadman Wonderland, a prison-cum-theme park in Tokyo Bay where inmates fight to the death in front of paying crowds. Our guide to this Roman circus is newly minted prisoner Ganta Igarashi, an ordinary fourteen-year-old who’s been wrongfully convicted of murdering his classmates. Ganta’s fundamental decency is challenged at every turn; try as he might to cling to his humanity and clear his name, the prison’s arbitrary rules and roving gangs make it hard to be principled.

From my thumbnail description, you might conclude that Deadman Wonderland was cobbled together from parts of Judge Dredd, Rollerball, and Escape from New York–and you wouldn’t be wrong. What prevents Deadman Wonderland from reading like Rollerball 2: The Revenge is imaginative artwork. Jinsei Kataoka and Kazuma Kondou have created a Bizarro World Disneyland with rides, concessions, grinning animal mascots, and attractions like the Happy Dog Run, a lethal obstacle course featuring swinging blades and spike-filled pits. The characters who inhabit this landscape are a motley crew: though some telegraph their bad-guy status with tattoos and goofy haircuts, there are enough ordinary-looking prisoners that it’s impossible to judge who’s trustworthy. That uncertainty creates a strong undercurrent of tension in every scene, making Ganta’s routine activities–a conversation in the bathroom, a trip to the cafeteria–as fraught with peril as an actual contest.

The manga’s other great strength is pacing. Kataoka and Kondou resist the temptation to dole out too much information in the first volume; we’re never more than a clue or two ahead of Ganta, though perceptive readers may finish volume one with some notion of the prison’s true purpose. The authors’ expert timing also prevents us from dwelling on the story’s most shopworn elements, instead focusing our attention on how Ganta responds to new characters and new challenges.

All of which is to say: Deadman Wonderland is more fun than it has any right to be, considering the high body count and recycled plot points. Count me in for the next twelve volumes!

The verdict: Great art, smart pacing, and an appealing lead character make Deadman Wonderland a winner. (A note to parents, teachers, and librarians: this manga’s rating is justified.)

Livingstone, Vol. 1
Story by Tomohiro Maekawa, Art by Jinsei Kataoka
Rated 16+
Kodansha Comics, $10.99

Livingstone is a handsomely illustrated bore, the kind of manga in which the writer has dressed up a simple concept with a profusion of fussy details that don’t add depth or interest to the story. The title refers to human souls–or, more accurately, the rock-like form that human souls take after a person dies. Sakurai and Amano, the manga’s protagonists, work together to harvest livingstones, thus ensuring that a soul is properly passed from one person to the next. If a person dies before his appointed time, however, his soul curdles into a gooey blob of bad juju.

The manga has the rhythm of a cop show: in each chapter, Sakurai and Amano solve or prevent one unscheduled death, usually by negotiating with someone who’s planning to kill himself. Livingstone‘s intense fixation on suicide is off-putting; none of the would-be victims are particularly sympathetic, and Sakurai and Amano’s ministrations are so tone-deaf that it’s hard to know what message author Tomohiro Maekawa is hoping to impart to readers. Sakurai and Amano’s antagonistic bickering is supposed to inject a note of levity into the proceedings, I think, but the timing of the jokes and the staleness of the characterizations do little to offset the dour tone. By the end of volume one, I found myself feeling bummed out and irritated–never a good sign for a series that’s exploring a subject as serious as death.

The verdict: Nice art, lousy script; I liked this story better when it was called The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service.

These reviews originally appeared at MangaBlog on November 27, 2015.

Say I Love You, Vols. 1-3

January 6, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

Back in the 1980s, filmmaker John Hughes peddled an intoxicating fantasy to thirteen-year-old girls: you might be the class misfit–the kid who wore the “wrong” clothes, listened to the “wrong” music, and had the “wrong” friends–but the hottest guy in school could still fall for you. Better still, he’d like you for being a “real” person, unlike the two-faced girls who inhabited his social circle. You’d have a bumpy road to your happily-after-ever, of course, since his friends felt compelled to say that you weren’t in his league, but in the end, your sincerity and quirkiness would prevail.

Say I Love You reads a lot like a manga version of Pretty in Pink or Some Kind of Wonderful, right down to the meet-cute between Mei, a moody loner, and Yamato, the most popular guy in school. Mei mistakenly believes that Yamato tried to peek up her skirt, and responds with a powerful roundhouse kick. Though Yamato’s friends demand an apology from her, Yamato is intrigued by Mei’s display of bravado and asks her out.

Mei is initially bewildered by Yamato’s courtship: why would someone as outgoing, handsome, and well regarded find her interesting? (You, dear reader, may also wonder why Yamato pursues Mei, given her generally sullen demeanor.) As Mei soon discovers, however, Yamato’s dating history is more complicated than she assumed; his good looks belie an earnest, thoughtful person who lost his virginity before he met someone he really cared about. He’s willing to endure a few tearful outbursts–not to mention some mixed signals–if it means he’ll get to know the real Mei before they go all the way.

And speaking of mixed signals, Say I Love You is refreshingly honest in acknowledging the full spectrum of teenage desire. Some characters embrace their feelings in healthy ways; others use sex to fill a void in their emotional lives; and still others are just beginning to explore their sexuality. Though many of the sexual encounters in the series are ill-advised, the teenage logic that underpins them rings true; an adult may feel an uncomfortable pang of recognition while reading Say I Love You.

The series’ greatest strength, however, is that author Kanae Hazuki is unusually generous with her supporting players. We’re privy to both Mei and Yamato’s thoughts, of course, but Hazuki also pulls the curtain back on other characters’ interior lives. In volume two, for example, mean girl Aiko becomes the temporary focus of the story, narrating her own transformation from a plump, pretty girl to a skinny, angry young woman who is furious that Yamato doesn’t like her. Her blunt self-criticism and body hang-ups remind younger readers that everyone wears a mask in high school; even students who seem outwardly blessed with good looks or talent are wrestling with the familiar demons of self-doubt and self-loathing.

If I had any criticism of Say I Love You, it’s that the plot twists are a little too by-the-book, with beach visits, Valentine’s Day agita, and misunderstandings of the “I saw you kiss her!” variety. In volume three, for example, Hazuki introduces Megumi, a model who’s hell-bent on making Yamato her boyfriend. When a direct approach doesn’t work–Yamato, of course, rebuffs Meg’s initial proposition–Meg transfers schools and ropes Yamato into becoming a model himself. I realize that “model,” “celebrity,” or “singer” epitomize a thirteen-year-old’s dream job, but the artifice and obviousness of diving into the modeling world feels like an unnatural direction for such a finely observed romance.

Perhaps the best compliment I could pay Say I Love You is that it has all the virtues of Pretty in Pink and Some Kind of Wonderful: it’s got a proud, tough heroine who’s skeptical of the popular kids, a sincere hot guy who can see past her bluster, and a veritable Greek chorus of peers who chart the ups and downs of their relationship. All it needs is a killer soundtrack.

Say I Love You, Vols. 1-3
By Kanae Hazuki
Rated OT, for older teens
Kodansha Comics, $10.99

This review originally appeared at MangaBlog on October 2, 2015.

Short Takes: Food Wars, Manga Dogs, and Yukarism

January 6, 2017 by Katherine Dacey

Did you receive an Amazon or RightStuf gift certificate this holiday? If so, this post is for you! Below, I’ve reviewed the first volumes of three series that debuted in 2014, offering a quick-and-dirty assessment of each. Already read Food Wars? Fear not—I’ve also tackled Manga Dogs, a comedy about a teen manga artist, and Yukarism, a time-traveling, gender-bendering manga from Chika Shiomi (Canon, Yurara).

Food Wars, Vol. 1
Story by Yuto Tsukada, Art by Shun Saeki
Rated T+, for Older Teens
VIZ Manga, $9.99

Food Wars begins with an only-in-manga scenario: Soma Yukihira’s dad shutters the family’s greasy spoon restaurant and lights out for America, leaving his son behind. With no place to go, Soma enrolls at Totsuki Culinary Academy, a hoity-toity cooking school that prides itself on its wealthy alumnae, rigorous curriculum, and high attrition rate. Soma’s working-class background is a major handicap in this environment, but his can-do attitude and culinary instincts allow him to triumph in difficult situations, whether he’s salvaging an over-salted pot roast or wowing an unscrupulous developer with a simple potato dish.

In theory, I ought to hate Food Wars for its cartoonish characters and abundant cheesecake, two qualities I generally despise in a manga. But here’s the thing: it’s fun. Soma repeatedly shows up bullies and snobs with his ability to transform everyday dishes into haute cuisine, proving that good food doesn’t need to be fancy. Though Soma’s foes are stock types—the Busty Bitch, the Rich Mean Boy, the Teacher With Impossibly High Standards—Shun Sakei’s crisp caricatures make them seem like fresh creations. I wish I could say the same for Sakei’s abundant fanservice, which quickly wears out its welcome with porny images of women enjoying Soma’s cooking. These pin-up moments are supposed to be funny, I guess, but the heavy emphasis on heaving cleavage and bare skin seems more like a concession to teenage male taste than an organic part of the story.

The verdict: I can’t decide if Food Wars is a guilty pleasure or a hate read, but I’ve just purchased volumes 2-4.

Manga Dogs, Vol. 1
By Ema Toyama
Rated T, for Teens
Kodansha Comics, $10.99

Manga Dogs has a terrific premise: a teenage artist decides to enroll in her school’s manga program, only to discover that her teacher is inept, and her classmates are pretty-boy otakus with no skill or work ethic. When Kanna’s classmates discover that she’s actually a published artist, Fumio, Fujio, and Shota glom onto her in hopes of breaking into the business—even though her debut series is on the verge of being cancelled.

With such a ripe set-up, it’s a pity that Manga Dogs is DOA. Part of the problem is that the script panders to the reader at every turn, whether it’s poking fun at reverse-harem tropes or saddling the characters with pun-tastic names inspired by famous manga creators. The author spends too much time patting the reader on the back for “getting” the jokes and not enough time writing genuinely funny scenarios or imbuing her characters with more than one personality trait each. The other issue is pacing: the story and artwork are both frenetic, with characters screaming, jumping, and flapping their arms on almost every page. By the end of the third chapter, I felt as if someone had beaten me up for my lunch money while asking me, “Do you think I’m funny? No? Now do you think I’m funny?”

The verdict: Just say no.

Yukarism, Vol. 1
By Chika Shiomi
Rated T, for Teen
VIZ Media, $9.99

Yukarism combines the supernatural elements of Rasetsu with the historical drama of Sakuran, then adds a dash of gender-bending weirdness for good measure. The story revolves around Yukari, a best-selling author whose novels explore the history of Edo’s red-light district. Though fans attribute the abundant details in his writing to research, Yukari has an even better strategy for learning about the past: he visits it! When he returns to the 1800s, however, Yukari becomes Yumurasaki, a top-earning oiran (or courtesan) enmeshed in a web of political intrigue, lust, and violence.

Given the complexity of the plot, it’s not surprising that the first volume of Yukarism is a bumpy ride. The tone see-saws between broad physical comedy and brooding melodrama, making it difficult to know if Yukari’s plight is being played for laughs or sniffles. The script, on the other hand, is too pointed; manga-ka Chika Shiomi is so intent on telling us what Yukari is thinking and seeing that she forgets the old dictum about showing, not telling. The same kind of editorial interventions result in at least one character waxing profusely about how handsome and cool Yukari is, just in case we haven’t realized that he’s supposed to be handsome and cool. Now that the basic parameters of the story have been established, however, Shiomi can dispense with the heavy-handed dialogue and do what she does best: write sudsy supernatural romances with beautiful characters in beautiful costumes.

The verdict: Volume two should be a pure guilty pleasure.

These reviews originally appeared at MangaBlog on January 2, 2015.

Complex Age, Vol. 1

June 10, 2016 by Ash Brown

Creator: Yui Sakuma
U.S. publisher: Kodansha Comics
ISBN: 9781632362483
Released: June 2016
Original release: 2014
Awards: Tetsuya Chiba Award

I almost passed over the English-language debut of Yui Sakuma’s Complex Age, but I’m very glad that I took the opportunity I had to read it. Complex Age, Volume 1 was first released in Japan in 2014 while the English-language edition of the volume was released in 2016 by Kodansha Comics. I believe that Complex Age is currently the first and only professional work by Sakuma to have been released. The manga began in 2013 as a one-shot which won the Tetsuya Chiba Award. (That one-shot is also included in the first volume of Complex Age.) Then, in 2014, Complex Age was relaunched as a series. While the original one-shot and the longer series don’t appear to be directly related when it comes to characters and plot, they do share a similar basic premise—an adult woman who is growing older and coming to terms with what that means for her hobbies and interests. I actually didn’t know that was what Complex Age was really about before reading the first volume. I thought it was simply about cosplay and since cosplay—the passion of the series’ main character—isn’t a particular interest of mine, I wasn’t anticipating that the manga would be story that I would end up so closely identifying with.

Nagisa Kataura is twenty-six years old, lives with her parents, and works as a temp worker for a tutoring agency, but in her spare time she is an accomplished and admired cosplayer. Her favorite character to cosplay is Ururu from the anime Magical Riding Hood Ururu who represents everything she wants to be as a person. Nagisa pours herself into her creations and is known for her attention to detail and high-quality work. She does all that she can to achieve perfection and to completely embody a character. However, despite cosplay being such a huge part of her life, she keeps her hobby a secret from her family and coworkers. Now that she’s an adult it’s become even more difficult for Nagisa to share her passion with people who aren’t already accepting of cosplay; it’s considered by many to be a frivolous hobby more suited for much younger fans. As she ages, Nagisa becomes more and more self-conscious about her cosplaying and the criticism that she receives becomes harder and harder for her to take. And yet Nagisa still loves what she does and cosplay is a very important part of who she is.

At first, I wasn’t sure that I really liked Nagisa. The opening chapter begins with her preparing for an event at which she will be cosplaying Ururu, putting an incredible amount of effort into making sure that everything is just right. But while she is at the event she is exceptionally rude and judgemental of the other people there, her behavior culminating in an outburst in which she harshly and publicly criticizes another cosplayer for not respecting the hobby and for not taking it seriously enough. However, as Complex Age progresses, Nagisa becomes a much more sympathetic, or at least understandable, character. The reason she is so sensitive is that her confidence, self-worth, and personal identity are almost irrevocably intertwined with her cosplaying. And so what Nagisa perceives as an insult to the hobby becomes an insult to her personally; when someone else is more talented or more physically suited to portray her favorite characters, she can only see her own faults and limitations being emphasized in comparison. She’s genuinely afraid that she is getting too old for cosplay and that voluntarily giving it up or being rejected by others because of her looks or age would result in her losing a large part of herself.

Before reading Complex Age I didn’t know much at all about the behind-the-scenes work that goes into cosplay, but the manga generally incorporates those sorts of interesting details quite nicely into the story. I’m still not particularly interested in or personally invested in cosplay myself, but Complex Age still resonated with me a great deal. Like Nagisa, I’m an adult interested in media and hobbies that many people look down upon or generally associate with a younger age group (in my case, manga and comics among other things). I also know quite well and understand the dangers of allowing a passion to define one’s self or to impact one’s self-esteem. I have dealt with and, if I’m completely honest, continue to deal with many of the same uncertainties, insecurities, and struggles that Nagisa faces in Complex Age. While so far I do like the series, I think that the Complex Age one-shot about Sawako, a thirty-four-year-old woman letting go of her passion for dressing in Gothic Lolita fashion, made an even greater impression on me. (Also, Sawako’s husband is pretty great.) I’m very curious to see if Sakuma will take Nagisa’s story in a similar direction or if ultimately the Complex Age series will be a little less bittersweet than its predecessor.

Thank you to Kodansha Comics for providing a copy of Complex Age, Volume 1 for review.

Princess Jellyfish, Vol. 1

April 8, 2016 by Ash Brown

Creator: Akiko Higashimura
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632362285
Released: March 2016
Original release: 2009
Awards: Kodansha Manga Award

Akiko Higashimura’s Kodansha Manga Award-winning Princess Jellyfish wasn’t a manga series that I expected would be licensed for an English-language release. Anecdotally, josei manga hasn’t historically done particularly well in the North American market. And on top of that, Princess Jellyfish is a longer series, currently ongoing at more than fifteen volumes, which can also make licensing prohibitive. When Kodansha Comics announced that it would be publishing Princess Jellyfish in print in English, fulfilling the hopes of many fans, I was thrilled. My knowledge of Princess Jellyfish stems from the 2010 anime adaptation directed by Takahiro Omori which I thoroughly enjoyed. However, as the anime only adapted a small portion of the series, it left me wanting more, so I am very excited to see the original Princess Jellyfish manga available in translation. Kodansha’s release of the series is an omnibus edition with a larger trim size and color pages included. The first omnibus, published in 2016, collects the first two volumes of the series as released in Japan in 2009.

Tsukimi is the youngest resident of Amamizukan in Tokyo, a communal apartment building catering to a particular type of woman who is completely and utterly devoted to her specific interests despite societal expectations—the fujoshi. Chieko, the manager of Amamizukan, collects traditional Japanese dolls and kimono. Mayaya is obsessed with Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Jiji has an intense appreciation for older, distinguished gentleman. Banba is fixated on trains. Mejiro is a reclusive boys’ love mangaka. And as for Tsukimi, ever since her mother took her to an aquarium as a child, she has adored jellyfish. Tsukimi’s love of jellyfish is one of her remaining ties to her mother who died of illness many years ago. It’s also that passion that leads to her chance encounter with Kuranosuke, the illegitimate son of a prominent politician who she initially assumes is a stylish and fashionable young woman due to the way he was dressed at the time. Their meeting will not only have a great impact on Tsukimi, but on everyone living at Amamizukan.

Like the residents of Amamizukan, Kuranosuke goes against society’s set roles and expectations, but in his case he’s doing it deliberately rather than it being an unintentional side effect of an obsession. Princess Jellyfish plays with the notions of outward appearance and self-expression in some really interesting and satisfying ways. I’m generally skeptical of stories that put an emphasis on beauty and looks or that make use of dramatic makeovers (for various reasons, Tsukimi and the rest of the Amamizukan fujoshi become targets of Kuranosuke’s enthusiasm for fashion and makeup), but Princess Jellyfish is a series that recognizes that a person’s appearance is only one part of an extremely complicated whole and that attractiveness is much more than skin deep. It also recognizes that there is tremendous power in someone being able to influence other people’s perceptions of who they are and that first impressions are often rightly or wrongly based on what can be visibly seen. Kuranosuke understands this and uses that knowledge to his advantage, as does the series antagonist Inari—a woman paving the way to the demolition of Amamizukan to make way for new urban development. Through blackmail and her own sex appeal, she leverages the importance placed on appearances and society’s inherent sexist prejudices for her own benefit, often finding the circumstances to be distasteful but the feeling of being in control of them intoxicating.

While it is the impetus for much of the story’s forward movement in the first omnibus, the threat of losing Amamizukan is only one of many intertwined plot threads in Princess Jellyfish. Tsukimi’s maturation as she continues to deal with the pain of her mother’s death and begins to fall in love for the first time is very important to the series as is Kuranosuke’s complicated family history and relationships. Although Kuranosuke is heterosexual, considering his custom of dressing as a woman his presence in the manga brings additional elements of queerness and gender fluidity to the series which I especially enjoy. (Also worth mentioning: the Princess Jellyfish translation notes are very thorough and valuable in explaining some of the nuances of Japanese word usage and terminology in regards to various gender and queer identities, which can be quite different from their Western counterparts.) Princess Jellyfish incorporates a fair amount of comedy which is one of the reasons the manga has such charm. But while Kuronosuke’s fashion choices and gender performance can result in humorous situations, the series treats him as a person and not as a joke, which I greatly appreciate. In fact, Princess Jellyfish has an entire cast full of wonderful characters which is perhaps the series’ greatest strength.

Die Wergelder, Omnibus 1

January 29, 2016 by Ash Brown

Creator: Hiroaki Samura
U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781632361950
Released: December 2015
Original release: 2013-2015

I was very excited when Kodansha Comics announced that it would be releasing Die Wergelder in English. At the time, I actually didn’t know much about the manga series beyond the fact that it was created by Hiroaki Samura, but that was more than enough to capture my attention—Samura’s long-running, award-winning series Blade of the Immortal was one of the first manga that I ever read and it remains a personal favorite. I’ve also throughly enjoyed Samura’s two short manga collections that have been translated, Ohikkoshi and Emerald and Other Stories. As Blade of the Immortal was drawing to a close in Japan, Die Wergelder was just beginning, the first volume being published in 2013. The second volume was released two years later in Japan in 2015. The first installment of Kodansha’s English-language edition of Die Wergelder, also published in 2015, collects both of those volumes.

Shinobu has made a mistake that may very well cost her life. After attempting to run way with a low-ranking yakuza member, along with a rather large sum of his syndicate’s money, the two of them are caught and Ro’s boss isn’t particularly happy with them. Normally Shinbou would likely have been killed without a second thought, but her background happens to make her uniquely qualified for a job that Ro’s boss needs done. She’s more or less forced into accepting and so suddenly finds herself embroiled in the schemes and rivalries of multiple groups. The world of organized crime is fraught with danger and made even more so with the appearance of Träne, an assassin hellbent on revenge against those who have done her tremendous wrong. And then there’s Jie Mao, an opposing bodyguard whose deadly combat skills make her a formidable foe. Shinobu does have the guts and brash attituded needed to survive, but that’s also a large part of why she’s in such trouble to being with.

Die Wergelder is heavily inspired by or at least influenced by 1970s Japanese pink films—theatrical releases steeped with eroticism, nudity, and sex. More specifically, Samura is taking cues from Toei’s Pinky Violence series of films. (Träne’s dark long coat, wide-brimmed hat, and tale of vengeance would appear to be a direct reference to the Female Convict Scorpion films in particular.) Likewise, Die Wergelder contains fairly extreme content, including gratuitous sex and explicit violence. Women and men, although to a somewhat lesser extent, are brutalized and degraded both sexually and physically throughout the story. Die Wergleder is true to its lurid and exploitative roots and the series seems to be self-aware of that. With an additional heavy dose of sadism, it’s certainly not a manga to be lightly recommended to just anyone, though what it does it does well.

By far the most interesting and compelling characters in Die Wergelder are the women. They are easily the most sexualized and objectified as well, but they’re also powerful and terrifying forces to be reckoned with. In comparison, the men of Die Wergelder aren’t particularly memorable, even when they are impressively powerful their own right. Träne and Jie Mao are stunning to watch as they fight. As I’ve come to expect, Samura’s action sequences are dramatic and dynamic. The martial skills shown may frequently be unbelievable, but they are devastatingly effective. With all its brutality and torture, Die Wergelder can be exceptionally violent and gruesome even while being beautifully drawn. It’s a deliberately uncomfortable series, Samura pushing the boundaries of acceptability. Rape, murder, abuse, and unethical medical experimentation are all regular occurrences, and that’s just scraping the surface of the despicable, thrilling, disturbing, titillating, and vicious world that Samura explores in Die Wergelder.