Novels

Kafka on the Shore

January 31, 2014 by Ash Brown

Author: Haruki Murakami
Translator: Philip Gabriel
U.S. publisher: Alfred A. Knopf
ISBN: 9781400079278
Released: January 2006
Original release: 2002
Awards: World Fantasy Award

Haruki Murakami is an international best-selling author and one of the most recognizable Japanese novelists currently writing worldwide. Therefore, I find it somewhat surprising that I actually haven’t read much of his work. Before picking up Kafka on the Shore I had only read two of his books–1Q84 and Underground: The Tokyo Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche–in addition to a small selection of essays and interviews. 1Q84 was my introduction to Murakami; it was both an incredibly frustrating and invigorating experience. I loved parts of the novel but strongly disliked others. 1Q84 probably wasn’t the best place to start reading Murakami, and so I’ve been meaning to give another one of his novels a try. I settled on Kafka on the Shore, originally published in Japan in 2002, for several reasons. It’s one of Murakami’s best-known works. Philip Gabriel’s 2005 English translation won the World Fantasy Award. The novel’s young protagonist basically runs away to a library. But mostly, I wanted to read Kafka on the Shore for the sake of one character, Oshima, with whom I happen to share quite a bit in common.

Fifteen-year-old Kafka Tamura, though that’s not his real name, has just run away from home. He leaves behind his father in Tokyo just as his mother and sister left the two of them behind more than a decade ago. Kafka’s plan is simple–travel to a faraway town and make a place for himself in a library. That’s how he finds himself in Takamatsu, over four hundred miles away from the home, father, and life that he wants to escape. There he seeks out the privately owned Komura Memorial Library where meets Oshima, an assistant at the library who takes Kafka under his wing. Meanwhile, strange events are unfolding around Kafka and the people in his life. Back in Tokyo, a man by the name of Nakata with the ability to talk to cats finds himself pulled into Kafka’s story. Though the two have never met they share a strange connection with each other that neither of them are entirely aware of or expected.

The chapters in Kafka on the Shore alternate between Kafka and Nakata’s individual journeys. Kafka’s chapters are written in first-person present, giving them a very intimate and immediate perspective, while Nakata’s are written in third-person past, creating more distance. At first the two stories seem to be completely unrelated, but as Kafka on the Shore develops the tales steadily draw towards one another and connect in shocking ways. Kafka and Nakata’s paths never directly cross but they do influence each other and those of the people around them. Ideas, concepts, and turns of phrase, not to mention actions and their consequences, echo throughout the novel, tying seemingly disparate events together into a cohesive whole. There is a lot of loneliness in Kafka on the Shore. The characters are searching and reaching out for these sorts of connections and relationships, both consciously and subconsciously. They are individuals yearning to find what is missing from themselves and from their lives, often disregarding time and reality in the process.

Much as with 1Q84, there were parts of Kafka on the Shore that I adored and other parts that I found immensely frustrating. In general, I preferred the earlier novel over its later developments. For me, Kafka on the Shore worked best when it was more firmly grounded in reality with hints of the unexplainable, mysterious, and strange rather than the other way around. As the novel progresses it becomes more confusing and dreamlike. That in and of itself isn’t problematic, but towards the end of Kafka on the Shore Murakami begins introducing bizarre elements seemingly out of nowhere that do very little to develop the plot or the characters. Readers looking for closure from Kafka on the Shore may be disappointed as there are plenty of threads left unresolved by the time the novel reaches its conclusion. Despite my frustrations with Kafka on the Shore I am glad that I read the novel. I appreciated the importance giving to books and the influence of music; I found the characters intriguing; and although the story goes a little off the rails, I liked Kafka’s peculiar journey of discovery and coming of age.

The Fiend with Twenty Faces

January 10, 2014 by Ash Brown

Author: Edogawa Rampo
Illustrator: Tim Smith 3
Translator: Dan Luffey
U.S. publisher: Kurodahan Press
ISBN: 9784902075250
Released: March 2012
Original release: 1936

Edogawa Rampo, the pen name of Tarō Hirai, was one of Japan’s preeminent authors of the erotic grotesque nonsense movement. However, he was also well-known for his detective and mystery stories. Later in his career he even wrote a series for children called The Boy Detectives. The first and possibly best-known novel in this series was The Fiend with Twenty Faces, originally serialized in the boys adventure magazine Shōnen Club in 1936. The English translation of The Fiend with Twenty Faces by Dan Luffey was published by Kurodahan Press in 2012 with illustrations by Tim Smith 3. Although Rampo was a prolific and extremely influential author in Japan, relatively few of his works have been translated into English. So far, The Fiend with Twenty Faces is the only example of Rampo’s stories for a young audience to have been made available. As a fan of Rampo’s ero guro works, I was curious to read something a little different of his.

Terrorizing the wealthy of 1930s Tokyo is a criminal known only as Twenty Faces, a master of disguise who can change his appearance with such ease that no one has been able to uncover his true identity. Using his skills of disguise and his tremendous intellect, he steals whatever suits his fancy–priceless jewels, family heirlooms, works of art–nothing is safe. He has even been known to resort to kidnapping. To make things even worse, Twenty Faces announces exactly what it is he intends to steal and when. But even armed with this knowledge, no one has yet been able to put an end to his crime spree. The only person who might be a match for Twenty Faces is the famous detective Akechi Kogorō. Unfortunately, he is currently overseas working on an important case. However, he has left behind Kobayashi Yoshio, his young assistant and protégé, to attend to his affairs. Kobayashi may be extremely clever, but Twenty Faces is cleverer still. With Akechi away, there is little hope that the criminal can be stopped, but maybe Kobayashi can at least make things a little more difficult for him.

Rampo very clearly draws from other great mystery writers in his creation of The Boy Detective series in general and in The Fiend with Twenty Faces specifically. Influences from Maurice Leblanc’s series featuring the infamous gentleman thief Arsène Lupin and Arthur Conan Doyle’s mysteries with the master detective Sherlock Holmes can particularly be seen in The Fiend with Twenty Faces. Twenty Faces shares similarities with Lupin and Akechi exhibits many of the same skills that Holmes possesses. Having previously read many of Rampo’s short stories (at least those available in English), I was already familiar with Akechi from his mysteries aimed at adult audiences. I’m actually rather fond of Akechi and so was quite pleased when he made his appearance in The Fiend with Twenty Faces, even if it did take nearly half of the novel before he finally returns from overseas.

The Fiend with Twenty Faces was highly entertaining and a tremendous amount of fun. Despite being a mystery, the novel is a fairly straightforward adventure story written for a younger audience. As someone who is fairly well-read, I was able to anticipate most of the twists and turns in the plot of The Fiend with Twenty Faces. If something seemed to be too convenient or unlikely to be a coincidence, it’s most likely because it was. However, I still enjoyed the story a great deal. The characters are also fairly engaging. Twenty Faces himself is a bit of an arrogant bastard and his rivalry with Akechi is marvelous to watch unfold. I could easily imagine reading the novel aloud; Rampo’s writing addresses the reader directly and would be well-suited for performance with very little modification needed. I’m not sure if any more of the novels in The Boy Detectives series will be translated, but I’m glad to have had the opportunity to discover firsthand one of the other reasons why Rampo’s influence has been so enduring in Japan.

Random Musings: Notable in 2013

December 28, 2013 by Ash Brown

Despite having written at Experiments in Manga for over three years, I have never once attempted to create a “best of the year” list and I’m not about to start. However, I thought it would be interesting to write a post reflecting on what I have read in the past year. This isn’t a best of list. It’s not even necessarily a list of my favorite releases of the year (although, some of them certainly are). Instead, it’s a collection of manga, comics, and fiction from 2013 that, for one reason or another, were particularly notable for me.

I’ll start out with Moto Hagio’s The Heart of Thomas. Fantagraphics released the entire series in a beautiful, hardcover omnibus. Technically, I think it was published at the end of 2012, but I wasn’t able to get my hands on one until 2013. I adore Hagio’s manga and wish more of it was available in English. The Heart of Thomas in particular is a historically significant work and one of the precursors to the boys’ love genre. Plus, it’s a wonderful work in its own right.

The Passion of Gengoroh Tagame: The Master of Gay Erotic Manga probably couldn’t be more different from The Heart of Thomas, but I anticipated its release just as much. Tagame is an incredibly influential gay comics artist. The volume was not only the first collection of his work to be released in English, it was also the first collection of bara manga to be released in print. Happily, it won’t be the last. More of Tagame’s manga is already scheduled to be published.

I have become increasingly interested in yokai over the last few years. And so I was thrilled when Drawn & Quarterly released Kitaro by Shigeru Mizuki. The volume collects stories from the first few volumes of Mizuki’s GeGeGe no Kitaro which is the yokai manga that started it all and which continues to influence creators to this day. I found Kitaro to be utterly delightful and can understand why it’s so well-loved. I hope more of the series will be translated.

I picked up Mobile Suit Gundam: The Origin for one reason–it was written and drawn by Yoshikazu Yasuhiko. I’m not at all a Gundam fan, but I am a fan of Yasuhiko’s work. Even so, I didn’t anticipate how much I would enjoy The Origin. The manga ended up being an extremely well done space opera. It doesn’t hurt that Vertical’s edition of the series is one of the highest quality manga releases available in English, either. I’m still not a Gundam fan, but I am a fan of The Origin.

Another manga that I was pleasantly surprised by was Osamu Tezuka’s Unico. As much as I appreciate Tezuka’s work, I will admit to have grown a little tired of it. (I wish that other classic manga received the same amount of attention in English.) I approached Unico more as a curiosity than anything else; the full-color artwork and unusual page layouts had caught my attention. It turned out to be an endearing manga that is both heartbreaking and charming.

After years of delay, Suehiro Maruo’s The Strange Tale of Panorama Island was finally released by Last Gasp in 2013. The manga is an adaptation of Edogawa Rampo’s novella Strange Tale of Panorama Island which, coincidentally, was also released in English in 2013. I cannot think of a more perfect artist to adapt Rampo’s work; Maruo’s exquisite, sensual, and erotically charged illustrations with hints of the macabre are an ideal fit. The Strange Tale of Panorama Island was worth the wait.

As for continuing series in 2013, Takako Shimura’s Wandering Son remains a manga that is incredibly important to me on a very personal level. I’m pretty sure that I’ve mentioned it before, but Wandering Son has quite literally been life-changing for me. In addition to that, I simply think it’s a wonderfully sensitive and sincere look at personal identity. Fantagraphics released both the fourth and fifth volumes of Wandering Son in 2013; I’m looking forward to reading more of the series great deal.

2013 also saw the release of Ai Yazawa’s Paradise Kiss, Part 3–the third and final volume in Vertical’s edition of the series. I missed out on the manga when it was originally licensed by Tokyopop and I’m very glad to have had the opportunity to read it. Over the last year, I have been extremely impressed by Yazawa’s work. I don’t have a particular interest in fashion, but the complex characters and complicated relationships in Paradise Kiss were extraordinary.

The One Trick Rip-Off + Deep Cuts is a fantastic anthology which collects fifteen comics by Paul Pope, including those he created for Kodansha while in Japan. The volume makes a great introduction to Pope’s comics, exhibiting a nice range of styles and stories selected from nearly a decade of his work. The influence of manga can be seen in the collection, but Pope definitely has his own approach to comics. I’ve become very fond of his work and the quirkiness of his stories and characters.

Written and illustrated by Gene Luen Yang with colors by Lark Pien, the Boxers & Saints duology is honestly one of the best comics that I read in the past year. It’s a powerful retelling of the Boxer Rebellion–a violent uprising in China that began in the late 1800s–from two different sides of the conflict, neither of which were entirely in the right. Yang put a tremendous amount of research into the work, making it historically accurate while still maintaining a very human element to the story.

I already knew that I enjoyed Toh EnJoe’s short stories and essays and so I was excited for the release of Self-Reference Engine, the first book-length work of his to be translated into English. It’s not quite a novel, and it’s not quite a collection of short stories, but whatever it is it’s good stuff. I expected Self-Reference Engine to be intellectually stimulating as well as entertaining, and it was, but I wasn’t prepared for how funny and mind-bending it would be.

Blade of the Immortal: Legend of the Sword Demon

November 13, 2013 by Ash Brown

Author: Junichi Ohsako
Illustrator: Hiroaki Samura
U.S. publisher: Dark Horse
ISBN: 9781595823380
Released: January 2010
Original release: 2008

Hiroaki Samura’s Blade of the Immortal was one of the first manga series that I began reading and it remains one of my personal favorites. When I learned that a novel based on the manga had been written I immediately picked it up. However, it did take me quite some time to actually get around to reading it. Blade of the Immortal: Legend of the Sword Demon, written by Junichi Ohsako with illustrations by Samura, was originally published in Japan in July 2008–the same month the anime adaptation of Blade of the Immortal began airing. I don’t know much about the author (Legend of the Sword Demon is the only novel by Ohsako to have been released in English), but I do know that Ohsako is a fellow fan of Blade of the Immortal. The English-language edition of Legend of the Sword Demon was translated by Camellia Nieh and released in 2010 by Dark Horse. Unsurprisingly, Dark Horse is also the publisher responsible for releasing the Blade of the Immortal manga and artbook in English.

Rin was the only daughter of Asano Takayoshi, the head of the respected Mutenichi-ryū sword school. A few years past he was brutally murdered before her very eyes, her mother was raped and abducted, and Rin was abandoned and left alone to fend for herself. Her family was destroyed at the hands of a group of renegade swordsmen known as the Ittō-ryū and their leader Anotsu Kagehisa. Now Rin is seeking her revenge, hiring an outlaw known only as Manji as her bodyguard. Rumored to be immortal, Manji has vowed to kill one thousand evil men to atone for hist past misdeeds. But is the Ittō-ryū truly evil? Whether it is or isn’t, Manji and Rin aren’t the only ones seeking the group’s demise. This complicates matters a great deal and it becomes difficult for Rin and Manji to determine who are friends and who are foes. Any alliances made in the fight against the Ittō-ryū can only be assumed to be temporary.

Legend of the Sword Demon is a very quick read. The story is a re-imagining of the early part of the Blade of the Immortal manga series. While the novel has some unique content of its own, including a dangerous enemy not found anywhere else, many of the scenes will be familiar to those who have read the original. All of the most popular characters make an appearance in the novel as well. (This was actually one of the conditions set by the publisher when the novel was initially commissioned.) Legend of the Sword Demon mostly focuses on the action of the story. Very little descriptive detail is given and the characters aren’t particularly fleshed out, either. It is interesting to see a slightly different take on Blade of the Immortal, but Legend of the Sword Demon almost requires that readers have a fairly firm grounding in the original series to really appreciate what Ohsako is doing with the story and characters. There might be enough in the novel to entice new readers to pick up the manga, but I am not at all confident of that.

In the end, I was actually rather disappointed with Legend of the Sword Demon. I can’t really recommend the novel to anyone but those who are Blade of the Immortal completists (a group of people to which I admittedly belong). Ultimately, Legend of the Sword Demon is a very insubstantial work and somewhat shallow, lacking the depth present in the manga series. It feels as though the novel is nothing more than tie-in promotional material. Ohsako may be a devoted fan of Blade of the Immortal but Legend of the Sword Demon isn’t long enough nor complex enough to really establish itself as noteworthy. It’s fun in places, but Legend of the Sword Demon is largely forgettable. The real highlight of the volume is Samura’s cover art and the handful of full-page illustrations that he created specifically for the novel. Otherwise, Legend of the Sword Demon is something that most people probably won’t regret passing over.

Lonely Hearts Killer

October 18, 2013 by Ash Brown

Author: Tomoyuki Hoshino
Translator: Adrienne Carey Hurley
U.S. publisher: PM Press
ISBN: 9781604860849
Released: November 2009
Original release: 2004

After reading Tomoyuki Hoshino’s collection of short fiction We, the Children of Cats, I knew that I wanted to read more of his work. And so I turned to the novel Lonely Hearts Killer, Hoshino’s first and currently only other volume available in English. Lonely Hearts Killer was originally published in Japan in 2004, making it a later work than most of the stories collected in We, the Children of Cats. Adrienne Carey Hurley’s translation of Lonely Hearts Killer was released in 2009. She initially had a difficult time finding a publisher for the novel. However, like We, the Children of Cats, Lonely Hearts Killer was ultimately released by PM Press under its Found in Translation imprint. Because We, the Children of Cats left such a huge impression on me, I was especially curious to read a long-form work by Hoshino.

When a young and popular emperor unexpectedly dies with only his sister to succeed him, the country is left stunned and directionless. Some people are so affected by his death that they are “spirited away,” a phenomenon which leaves them in a near catatonic state. Shōji Inoue is not one of those people. A young and privileged experimental filmmaker living off his parents, he is fascinated by society’s reaction to the emperor’s death. When he learns that Mikoto, the boyfriend of Iroha–a former classmate, fellow filmmaker, and friend–is among the group of people to have suffered a breakdown, he is intensely curious. But Inoue and Mikoto’s meeting triggers an even greater tragedy and Iroha is left behind to deal with the aftermath. Years later Iroha is working at a remote lodge owned by her friend Mokuren, away from the prying eyes of the mass media which blames her in part for the epidemic of suicides and murders that have swept the country. At the same time, the mass media is one of her only remaining ties to the rest of the world.

Lonely Hearts Killer is told in three parts by three different narrators, each building on and critiquing those that precede them. “The Sea of Tranquility” is seen from Inoue’s perspective, “The Love Suicide Era” is Iroha’s response, and Mokuren’s commentary concludes the novel in “Subida Al Cielo.” Each chapter leads further away from the initial incident in both time and association while simultaneously providing more information about it and capturing the escalation of fear and death. Lonely Hearts Killer is a chronicle of the end of an era; the world is turned upside down and society’s values are inverted. The novel can be both disconcerting and disorienting. People become so consumed by a culture of fear that they come to rely and depend on it. Any challenge to the system is seen as dangerous and the media’s role in its perpetuation is largely ignored by the general population. Things become so twisted around and perverted that it is those who would try to refuse to participate in the violence around them who are deemed abnormal and deviants by society at large.

In addition to the novel itself, the English edition of Lonely Hearts Killer also includes an introduction by the translator and a newly written preface by the author as well as a question and answer session between the two. I found this material to be particularly valuable in putting the work into a greater context. The death of an emperor and the demise of the emperor system is a rare topic in Japanese literature. Lonely Hearts Killer is a very political work although much of its message is left up to the readers’ individual interpretations. The novel has the potential for multiple analyses, including both anarchist and pacifist readings. I personally appreciate this ambiguity; it’s one of the reasons that I find Hoshino’s work as a whole to be so interesting. As I’ve come to expect, Hoshino’s writing requires active engagement and thought on the part of his readers. The novel isn’t particularly easy reading, but the ideas, concepts, and themes that Hoshino deals with in Lonely Hearts Killer are incredibly unsettling, intriguing, and fascinating.

The Shogun’s Daughter

October 11, 2013 by Ash Brown

Author: Laura Joh Rowland
Publisher: St. Martin’s Press
ISBN: 9781250028617
Released: September 2013

The Shogun’s Daughter is the seventeenth volume in Laura Joh Rowland’s mystery series set in Tokugawa-era Japan and featuring Sano Ichirō as a main protagonist. Despite my interest in Japanese history and my enjoyment of mystery and crime fiction, somehow it wasn’t until I received The Shogun’s Daughter through LibraryThing’s Early Reviewers program that I became aware of Rowland’s Sano Ichirō novels. The series made its debut in 1994 with the novel Shinjū. Over the years, a few of the individual volumes in the series have been nominated for major genre awards for mystery and crime fiction. The Shogun’s Daughter was released in 2013 by the mystery and suspense imprint of St. Martin’s Press, Minotaur Books. (Minotaur also happens to be the publisher for Keigo Higashino’s Detective Galileo series in English, which I enjoy.) Even though I hadn’t previously read any of Rowland’s Sano Ichirō mysteries, I was still looking forward to reading The Shogun’s Daughter and giving the series a try.

In late 1703, a massive earthquake and accompanying tsunami devastated Edo, killing thousands of people. A few months later another death would also have a tremendous impact on the city. Tsuruhime, Shogun Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s only child, dies of smallpox. However, some members of the government are convinced that her death wasn’t entirely natural. With Tsuruhime’s passing, the shogunate’s chain of succession has become even more precarious. The Shogun finally feels compelled to name his heir–Yoshisato, a young man claiming to be his long-lost son although many suspect that he’s actually the son of the official Yanagisawa Yoshiyasu. Yanagisawa is now in a position to control the shogunate through Yoshisato and it doesn’t take long for him to purge the government of those who would stand against him. Among them is Sano Ichirō, who once served as the Shogun’s right-hand man. But if Sano can prove that Yanagisawa is somehow connected to Tsuruhime’s death, he stands a chance of regaining his status and revealing Yanagisawa’s plot for power.

As Rowland has sixteen novels worth of material to cover, the beginning of The Shogun’s Daughter is understandably a little slow going. Those who have never read a Sano Ichirō mystery will be at a slight disadvantage, but the most critical points of the characters and their backstories are quickly established. It’s obvious that they all have quite a history with one another, though, particularly Yanagisawa and Sano with their ongoing rivalry. Occasionally an unclear reference is made to something that occurred earlier in the series, but generally The Shogun’s Daughter stands reasonably well on its own. The only major exception to this is the side-plot dealing with Hirata, one of Sano’s chief retainers, which feels terribly out-of-place with the rest of the novel. It contains the only supernatural elements to be found in The Shogun’s Daughter–Hirata is practitioner of the “mystical martial arts”–and has no direct impact on the main story. It seems to be a plot line carried over from the previous novels, and it leads into the next, but in The Shogun’s Daughter it mostly serves as an unwanted distraction.

It may take The Shogun’s Daughter some time to find its flow, but once it does the novel and mystery move along at a fairly rapid pace. Sano isn’t the only one who is involved with the investigation into Tsuruhime’s death–his wife, son, and even Hirata’s young daughter all help, making it something of a family affair. Their logic is a little shaky in places, but this can usually be explained by the younger characters’ inexperience, the stress of the situation as a whole, and government intrigue and political maneuverings. What I appreciated the most about The Shogun’s Daughter is how Rowland has used historical figures and events as a framework to craft her story. Sano and his family may be fictional, but many of the people they deal with, including Yanagisawa, are not. The natural disasters and recovery efforts as well as the trouble with the Tokugawa succession are all based on actual events. Unfortunately, the dialogue and some of the terminology used feels too modern and would throw me out of the setting. Otherwise, the time period is nicely established and Rowland quite cleverly weaves her characters and mystery into Japan’s history.

Thank you to St. Martin’s Press for providing a copy of The Shogun’s Daughter for review.

Mobile Suit Gundam: Awakening, Escalation, Confrontation

September 20, 2013 by Ash Brown

Author: Yoshiyuki Tomino
Translator: Frederik L. Schodt
U.S. publisher: Stone Bridge
ISBN: 9781611720051
Released: April 2013
Original release: 1979-1981

The first part of the massive Gundam franchise to be officially released in English was a trilogy of novels by Yoshiyuki Tomino that were initially published in Japan between 1979 and 1981. The novels are a reimagining of the original 1979 anime series Mobile Suit Gundam which was directed and primarily developed by Tomino. Based on the trilogy’s 1987 edition, the novels were originally translated by Frederik L. Schodt and published by Del Rey between 1990 and 1991. They subsequently went out of print but were released again by Stone Bridge Press in 2004 in an omnibus edition with a revised translation. The omnibus, too, went out of print only a few years later. It wasn’t until 2012 that the license was able to be re-secured, but Mobile Suit Gundam: Awakening, Escalation, Confrontation is once again available in a newly redesigned omnibus. It also includes some of the concept design sketches form the original anime series as illustrations.

In Universal Century 0079, the colonists of Side 3 rebelled against the Earth Federation, establishing the Principality of Zeon. During the ensuing war, half of the solar system’s human population was annihilated before the two sides of the conflict could reach a temporary ceasefire. In less than a year, the relative peace came to an end. The fighting began again as the Federation and Zeon forces were caught up in an arms race. Each side continued developing more and more advanced and powerful weapon systems and mobile suits. Combined with the emergence of Newtypes–humans with astounding powers of intuition and expanded consciousness–the conflict quickly escalated. No one is entirely sure what the Newtype phenomenon means for the future of the human race or what dangers those with Newtype potential will present, but both militaries are resolved to harness their abilities in order to gain an advantage in the war.

I haven’t seen the original 1979 Mobile Suit Gundam anime series in its entirety, but I do know that the novels are a darker, more mature, and more detailed take on the story. The ending of the trilogy is significantly different from that of the anime, as well. My first real introduction to the Gundam franchise was actually through Yoshikazu Yasuhiko’s manga series Mobile Suit Gundam: The Origin, which is also a retelling of the original anime. If I am to be completely honest, I much greatly prefer the manga over the novels. However, simply by the nature of the medium, the novels allow Tomino to explore the world of Mobile Suit Gundam in greater depth than either the anime or the manga; some of the specifics about the characters and their motivations can be found nowhere else. But this can also be a drawback–at times, Mobile Suit Gundam: Awakening, Escalation, Confrontation reads more like an insider’s guide to the Gundam universe rather than a set of novels.

I like the story of Mobile Suit Gundam as well as its setting. Unfortunately, I wasn’t nearly as fond of the novels’ execution. There was an annoying preoccupation with who was or wasn’t, or who could or could not possibly be a Newtype. Though frequently debated, the characters never reach a solid conclusion and constantly change their opinions on the matter. This is somewhat understandable since the Newtype phenomenon is a new step in human evolution that has yet to be strictly identified or defined, but it’s particularly frustrating when the author doesn’t seem to have a firm grasp of the concept, either. I do like the Newtype theory, though, and it is a very important part of Mobile Suit Gundam. I also like that the novels show both sides of the conflict between Zeon and the Federation from multiple perspectives. Mobile Suit Gundam is an ambitious war tale with a fairly large cast of interesting characters. But in the end, I have a feeling that the novels will appeal most to readers who are already fans of the franchise.

The Crimson Labyrinth

September 11, 2013 by Ash Brown

Author: Yusuke Kishi
Translator: Masami Isetani and Camellia Nieh
U.S. publisher: Vertical
ISBN: 9781932234114
Released: October 2006
Original release: 1999

The Crimson Labyrinth, written by Yusuke Kishi, was first published in Japan in 1999. Prior to the novel’s release, Kishi had won two Japan Horror Association Awards. He continues to be a bestseller and award winner in Japan both for his horror and for his speculative fiction. The Crimson Labyrinth was released in English in 2006 by Vertical with a translation by Masami Isetani and Camellia Nieh. The novel was Kishi’s English debut and so far remains the only work of his that has been translated, although Vertical is scheduled to release Tōru Oikawa’s manga adaptation of Kishi’s novel From the New World in 2013. The Crimson Labyrinth was my introduction to Kishi and his work. I was particularly interested in reading The Crimson Labyrinth after seeing it compared to Koushun Takami’s Battle Royale, a personal favorite of mine. Also, I tend to enjoy just about everything that Vertical publishes.

Forty years old and unemployed, Yoshihiko Fujiki never expected that answering a job advertisement would end up with him being drugged and abandoned in the wild. He wakes up alone with only a small amount of food and water and a Pocket Game Kids handheld game console to keep him company. Soon he encounters Ai Otomo who is also wandering alone and who has been given similar provisions. Following the instructions provided by the game console, together they navigate the labyrinthine corridors and valleys of the bizarre landscape in which they find themselves. When they reach the first checkpoint indicated by the console they discover another group of people waiting there. All together there are nine Japanese men and women and no one seems to be certain of what is going on, where they are, who has stranded them or for what purpose. What they do know is that have become unwilling participants in a perverse game of survival. If they want to stay alive they may very well have to turn on each other.

The Crimson Labyrinth is heavily influenced by extreme reality television as well as classic, text-based role-playing games. And just like those RPGs, the decisions made by the characters early on in The Crimson Labyrinth are the most crucial and will determine how the rest of the game will play out. At first the group of nine works together, but their cooperation quickly disintegrates. The group fragments into four smaller teams, each following a different path outlined by the game: survival, self-defense, food, or information. Game theory might suggest how the competition will progress and what will lead to the ideal outcome for all involved, but as Fujiki points out, game theory is nearly useless in their situation. It depends on people making logical and rational decisions after considering all the information available to them. Humans are most certainly not rational creatures, especially when faced with the unknown, consumed by fear, and fighting for their lives.

Most of The Crimson Labyrinth takes place over the course of a few weeks. As events and the game unfold, the novel is seen exclusively from Fujiki’s perspective. For a large part of The Crimson Labyrinth he doesn’t interact much with anyone except Ai. This is a little unfortunate since the utter hell the other teams are going through can only be inferred. But as the novel and the game progress, Ai and Fujiki come across shocking evidence that the other players are having a very hard time of it and that it didn’t take long at all for violence to erupt. The wilderness is filled with its own dangers, but it’s really their fellow humans that they need to be wary of. Terrible things happen in The Crimson Labyrinth. What makes it even worse is the fact that so many of them could have been avoided if only people were able to bring themselves to trust each other and work together. In the end, no one is entirely innocent of the deaths that occur. A quick read, The Crimson Labyrinth is an absorbing novel of horror and survival.

Forbidden Colors

August 16, 2013 by Ash Brown

Author: Yukio Mishima
Translator: Alfred H. Marks
U.S. publisher: Alfred A. Knopf
ISBN: 9780375705168
Released: February 1999
Original release: 1951/1953

In Japan, Yukio Mishima’s novel Forbidden Colors was released in two parts. The first eighteen chapters were compiled in 1951 while the collection with the final fourteen chapters was published in 1953. The English translation of Forbidden Colors by Alfred H. Marks was first published by Alfred A. Knopf in 1968. Like Mishima’s earlier novel Confessions of a Mask, Forbidden Colors deals with prominent homosexual themes, although the two works approach the material in vastly different ways. Also like Confessions of a Mask, and many of Mishima’s other works, Forbidden Colors contains some autobiographical elements. In addition to being my introduction to Japanese literature, Mishima and his works fascinate me. I’ve been slowly making my way through all of his material available in English, but I was particularly interested in reading Forbidden Colors.

After being betrayed time and again the aging author Shunsuke Hinoki has developed an intense hatred of women. Seeking revenge, he enters into a peculiar arrangement with a beautiful young man by the name of Yuichi Minami. Yuichi has come to realize that he loves men and is tormented by what that means living in a society which doesn’t accept homosexuality. Shunsuke is willing to assist Yuichi in hiding his secret by helping to arrange his marriage and to develop a reputation as a philanderer. In exchange, Yuichi promises Shunsuke to make the women he seduces miserable. They may fall in love with him, but he will never love them in return. The agreement is advantageous for both men. Yuichi will have a perfect cover allowing him the freedom to explore his sexuality–no one would suspect a married man and a womanizer to have male lovers–and Shunsuke will have the revenge he so greatly desires.

Shunsuke is an unapologetic misogynist. His anti-women rhetoric can be difficult to take, but without it the plot of Forbidden Colors would never go anywhere. It is necessary and important as the story’s catalyst. Mishima has very deliberately created a distasteful character who at the same time is enthralling in his extremes. Yuichi, despite being loved by all, isn’t a particularly pleasant person, either. However, I did find his portrayal to be much more sympathetic. He’s vain and self-centered, but he also has an air of naivety and innocence about him. Both men and women fall victim to his charms but Yuichi himself is often manipulated as well. Forbidden Colors is an absorbing tale as Yuichi struggles to keep his two lives separate, sinking deeper into Japan’s underground gay community while trying to keep up appearances in his public life. It’s an outlandish battle of the sexes that is hard to look away from and no one comes out unscathed.

Forbidden Colors explores and deals with a number of dualities: homosexuality and heterosexuality, love and hatred, youth and old age, beauty and ugliness, truth and deceit, cruelty and kindness, morality and immorality, and so on. Mishima plays the dichotomies off one another, but also reveals how closely intertwined they can be. The complexities of the characters’ relationships show that opposites are rarely just that and how at times in the end they aren’t really all that different. Yuichi, for example, comes to genuinely care for his wife but in his twisted way of thinking expresses that love through cruelty. There is a certain logic to his decision and his concern is real, though someone else might not reach the same conclusion. At it’s heart Forbidden Colors is a fairly dark story with erotic underpinnings and characters who, though often unlikeable, are captivating. I found the novel to be incredibly engrossing.

Spice & Wolf, Volume 8: Town of Strife I

August 11, 2013 by Ash Brown

Author: Isuna Hasekura
Illustrator: Jyuu Ayakura
Translator: Paul Starr
U.S. publisher: Yen Press
ISBN: 9780316245463
Released: April 2013
Original release: 2008

Town of Strife I is the eighth volume in Isuna Hasekura’s light novel series Spice & Wolf, illustrated by Jyuu Ayakura. The previous volume, Side Colors, was actually a collection of three side stories; Town of Strife I picks up the story immediately following Spice & Wolf, Volume 6. As indicated by its title, Town of Strife I is the first part of a two-volume story, a first for Spice & Wolf. Town of Strife I was originally published in Japan in 2008. Paul Starr’s English translation of the novel was released by Yen Press in 2013. Spice & Wolf is a series that I have been enjoying much more than I thought I would. Although I wasn’t particularly taken with most of Side Colors, I was interested in getting back to the main story again with Town of Strife I.

Having had quite the adventure on the Roam River, Kraft Lawrence, a traveling merchant, and Holo the Wisewolf, a centuries-old spirit in the form of a young woman, have finally made their way to the port town of Kerube with a new companion in in tow–Col, a young student they encountered along the river. Together the three of them are following a curious rumor: a search is on for the bones of a northern town’s guardian deity. Many people think the story is some far fetched fairytale, but Lawrence, Holo, and Col know very well that there could be some truth behind the rumors. Upon their arrival at Kerube Lawrence seeks the aid of Eve, a former noblewoman and a skilled merchant in her own right. He’s been burned once before in his dealings with her, but Eve’s impressive network of connections may be their best chance of finding the bones.

One of the things that I have always enjoyed about Spice & Wolf is the relationship and developing romance between Lawrence and Holo. By this point in the series, Lawrence has lost some of his awkwardness when it comes to Holo. While I suppose this means he’s grown as a character, I do miss the more easily embarrassed Lawrence. With the addition of Col to the mix, the dynamics of Holo and Lawrence’s relationship has also changed. Their battles of wits and their good-natured bickering and teasing which once seemed so natural now feel forced as if the two of them are putting on some sort of performance for the boy. More often than not, Holo and Lawrence are verbally sparring for show in Town of Strife I and it’s not nearly as entertaining. Ultimately I do like Col (everyone in Spice & Wolf likes Col), but his presence in the story is somewhat distracting.

Not much happens in Town of Strife I; it mostly seems to be setting up for the second volume in the story arc. Hasekura promises that Lawrence will get to be “really cool” in the next volume and Town of Strife I does end on a great cliffhanger, but I’m not sure that I’m actually interested in finding out what happens. Unfortunately, the series has finally lost its charm for me. The characters know one another so well and their conversations are so cryptic that the story is difficult to follow. The narrative lacks sufficient detail and explanations leaving readers to puzzle out the characters’ motivations and actions. This has always been the case with Spice & Wolf but what makes it particularly frustrating in Town of Strife I is that the volume doesn’t even have a satisfying ending and doesn’t stand well on its own. Hasekura claims that he needed two volumes to tell this particular story, but considering how tedious much of Town of Strife I is, I’m not convinced.

Twinkle Twinkle

June 12, 2013 by Ash Brown

Author: Kaori Ekuni
Translator: Emi Shimokawa
U.S. publisher: Vertical
ISBN: 9781932234015
Released: May 2003
Original release: 1991
Awards: Murasaki Shikibu Literary Prize

Kaori Ekuni’s novel Twinkle Twinkle was the first of her works to be translated into English. Ekuni is both a bestseller and a literary award winner in Japan. Initially she wrote poetry and children’s stories before beginning to write for a more general audience. Twinkle Twinkle, originally published in Japan in 1991, was her debut novel and earned Ekuni the Murasaki Shikibu Literary Prize in 1992. Also in 1992, Twinkle Twinkle was adapted into a film directed by Joji Matsuoka. The novel was translated into English by Emi Shimokawa and published by Vertical in 2003. (Twinkle Twinkle was actually the first book ever to be released by Vertical.) Despite being a well-known and admired author in Japan, before reading Twinkle Twinkle I was unfamiliar with Ekuni and her work. After reading Twinkle Twinkle I sincerely hope that more of her writing is translated. Currently the only other novel by Ekuni available in English is God’s Boat.

Shoko and Mutsuki married four months after they first met, much to the delight of their respective parents who feared that their progeny would never find someone to spend the rest of their lives (and hopefully have children) with. Although Shoko and Mutsuki are pleased with their arrangement, each is hiding a secret from their new in-laws. Shoko is an alcoholic and emotionally unstable while Mutsuki is gay and continues to see his long-term boyfriend Kon. Shoko and Mutsuki care for each other, but their marriage is one of convenience more than anything else. They are each free to live their lives how they choose while at the same time are able to keep up appearances for their families. It seems like a perfect marriage as long as they can prevent their parents from discovering the farce. But during their first year together things begin to unravel. Neither Shoko or Mutsuki quite realize what all of the consequences of their marriage might actually be.

Each chapter of Twinkle Twinkle alternates between Shoko and Mutsuki’s individual perspectives. It’s a great technique that lets readers see both sides of their relationship and how they view each other. It also allows a glimpse into the newlyweds’ internal states of being. Throughout the novel it is clear that both Shoko and Mutsuki deeply care about the other. They’re not exactly romantically involved and they may not be having sex together, but they both want the other to be happy and work to make that happen. It’s not always easy, though. Both of them have habits that either baffle or annoy the other and they’re not always sure what to do about it. As Twinkle Twinkle and the first year of their marriage progresses Shoko becomes increasingly unstable—anxious that she isn’t able to adequately fulfill her role. As for Mutsuki, as wonderful as he can be, he’s unable to ease Shoko’s fears; his kindness often makes matters worse.

Twinkle Twinkle is a very peculiar love story between two incredibly imperfect people. But it’s Shoko and Mutsuki’s faults and flaws that make the novel as effective as it is. No marriage is perfect and even a fake one takes a tremendous amount of effort to maintain. To make matters even more complicated there’s Kon, who at times is on better terms with Shoko than he is with Mutsuki. Kon is extremely important to both of them as well as to the story itself. Together Kon, Shoko, and Mutsuki form an intense triangle with relationship dynamics crucial to their development as people and to the development of the novel. Twinkle Twinkle is fairly light in its tone and is immensely readable, but Ekuni still manages to pack several hard-hitting punches into the narrative. Personally, I loved Twinkle Twinkle. It’s one of the best novels that I’ve read recently and I can easily see myself reading it again.

Book Girl and the Famished Spirit

August 10, 2011 by Ash Brown

Author: Mizuki Nomura
Illustrator: Miho Takeoka
Translator: Karen McGillicuddy
U.S. publisher: Yen Press
ISBN: 9780316076920
Released: January 2011
Original release: 2006

Book Girl and the Famished Spirit is the second book in Mizuki Nomura’s sixteen-volume light novel series Book Girl, illustrated by Miho Takeoka. Originally published in Japan in 2006, the book was released in English in 2011 by Yen Press. Once again, Karen McGillicuddy serves as the translator for the series. I read the first volume, Book Girl and the Suicidal Mime not too long ago and absolutely loved it. The book more or less made me an instant fan and so there was no question that I would be picking up Book Girl and the Famished Spirit. I am still quite fond of the premise of a “book girl,” a yōkai that devours the written word instead of food. Even though this story element is often relegated to the background, it is still important and I find it to be utterly delightful. Because I enjoyed Book Girl and the Suicidal Mime so much, I was really looking forward to reading Book Girl and the Famished Spirit.

Despite insisting she doesn’t believe in them, Tohko, the self-proclaimed “book girl,” is afraid of ghosts. Normally this wouldn’t be such a problem, but someone has been leaving encoded messages in the literature club’s mailbox. Messages that seem to be similar to the ones rumored to be left all over the school by a wandering ghost. But whether a prank pulled by a classmate or a legitimate spirit (book girls exist after all, so why not ghosts?), one thing is clear—the notes are asking for help. Tohko intends to investigate the incidents, assuming that Konoha, her underclassman and the only other member of the literature club, will be willing to assist her. But he’s reluctant, especially as the notes become more threatening. He hopes that she will just leave the whole matter alone.

While Book Girl and the Suicidal Mime was heavily influenced by Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human, Book Girl and the Famished Spirit takes its inspiration from Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights. In some ways the story is actually more cruel than the original. If you’ve never read Wuthering Heights, don’t worry. If there’s one thing that Tohko likes to do besides eating literature, it’s talking about it and she provides a very nice summarization of the novel. Throughout the series she frequently launches into tirades about books, even at seemingly inappropriate moments. This is part of her charm although it can come across as tangential. Nomura is constantly dropping references to various works and authors, some more well known than others. But my favorite thing about Book Girl and the Famished Spirit was the introduction of Ryuto. I almost hope that he also turns out to be some sort of yōkai, but I’d still be happy even if it turns out he’s just simply a masochist.

For the most part, Book Girl and the Famished Spirit can stand fairly well on its own and it’s not absolutely necessary to have read Book Girl and the Suicidal Mime. The main mystery is almost completely separate with only a few minor references to the previous one. However, more information is given about Konoha and Tohko. To be honest, it is their backgrounds that intrigue me the most at this point. Konoha’s past in particular is slowly being introduced, piece by piece, within the context of the incidents he and Tohko get caught up in. It’s an interesting but effective technique. Although I enjoyed Book Girl and the Famished Spirit, I didn’t like it nearly as well as I did the first book. I’m not really sure why; maybe it’s just that I happen to prefer No Longer Human over Wuthering Heights. Regardless, I still intend to continue the series with the next volume, Book Girl and the Captive Fool.

All You Need Is Kill

August 9, 2010 by Ash Brown

Author: Hiroshi Sakurazaka
Translator: Alexander O. Smith
U.S. publisher: Viz Media
ISBN: 9781421527611
Released: July 2009
Original release: 2004

I really don’t remember exactly when and where I first heard about Hiroshi Sakurazaka’s All You Need Is Kill but after I did it seemed to keep popping up everywhere I looked. It was even picked up by Warner Brothers to make into a live-action film. All You Need Is Kill was originally published in Japan as a light novel in 2004. The English edition, translated by Alexander O. Smith, was one of the very first books to be released by Viz Media’s Haikasoru imprint in 2009. I haven’ read much military science fiction but All You Need Is Kill certainly is that, complete with alien intelligence and battle suits. What particularly caught my interest in the novel was that the main character, Keiji Kiriya, dies during his first battle only to wake up in his bunk thirty hours before over and over again.

The battle on Kotoiushi Island would be pivotal in humanity’s war with the Mimics. If lost, the rest of Japan would follow, along with the technology that made it possible to fight against the constantly evolving invading force. Keiji is a Jacket jockey in the United Defense Force’s 301st Armored Infantry Division which was sent to reinforce the island. He doesn’t even make it through his first battle. Or his second. Or his third. Somehow stuck in a time-loop he is forced to live and die in the same battle again and again. The only thing he can do is learn to fight a little better and hope to survive a little longer each time. Rita Vrataski, member of the U.S. Army Special Forces, has killed more Mimics than any other person in the world. Known as the Full Metal Bitch, not that anyone would call her that to her face, she is formidable, efficient, and scary as hell on the battlefield. She is also one of the last hopes remaining to end the war and may be the only person who can help Keiji escape his fate.

Although All You Need Is Kill is primarily entertainment and not overly serious, Sakurazaka still works in some environmental, technological, and social commentary. At least for me, the story also had a convincing emotional impact. Repeatedly living through the horrors of war, your own death, and the death of your friends and those around you changes a person and Sakurazaka captures this quite well. I like Keiji a lot and was most interested in his story, told in the first person. The third quarter of the book, written in the third person, focuses on Rita and the background of the war with the Mimics. While interesting and certainly important, especially in understanding Rita and her history, I still looked forward to getting back to Keiji. Which is not to say that I didn’t like Rita, because I did. I liked most of the secondary characters as well; Keiji’s bunk-mate and veteran Yonabaru in particular amused me as much as he tended to annoy others in his platoon. I also appreciated the fact that not everyone was assumed to be straight (although pretty much all of them were.)

The translation Smith has done for All You Need Is Kill is great–it’s straightforward with a good flow that hits hard and fast. There is also a nice use of repeated phrases to emphasize the time-loop that Keiji’s stuck in. The original light novel was illustrated by Yoshitoshi ABe and it’s a pity that none of his art was included in the Haikasoru edition beyond the cover–I really would have liked to have seen more of his work. I enjoyed All You Need Is Kill even more than I was expecting to and was impressed by how much action and story Sakurazaka was able to fit into such a relatively short work (it comes in at just under 200 pages.) I’m really looking forward to picking up his only other work currently available in English, also released through Haikasoru, Slum Online.