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sayonara zetsubou-sensei

My Week in Manga: July 15-July 21, 2013

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My News and Reviews

Last week I posted two in-depth manga reviews here at Experiments in Manga. The first review was for Hiroaki Samura’s Blade of the Immortal, Volume 23: Scarlet Swords. Now that Manji has made his escape from the dungeons under Edō Castle the series has started to focus a bit more on the Ittō-ryū once again, which I’m happy to see. My second review last week was my contribution to the Yun Kouga Manga Moveable Feast. I took a closer look at Viz Media’s new release of Kouga’s Loveless. I had previously read Loveless when Tokyopop published the first eight volumes years ago, but Viz’s first omnibus quickly reminded me why I find the manga so peculiarly compelling.

Last week was also the San Diego Comic-Con. Seeing as it’s clear across the country from me and it’s unlikely that I’d ever be able to handle such a huge event, I wasn’t in attendance. However, I did pay attention to some of the news and announcements coming out of SDCC. I was most interested in Haikasoru’s plans for a graphic novel adaptation of All You Need Is Kill (I reviewed the original a few years ago), a new translation of Battle Royale (I reviewed the previous translation a few years ago, too), and a collection of essays on Battle Royale. In other news: Viz is relaunching the Viz Kids imprint as Perfect Square; Kodansha is adding more shoujo titles to its catalog, including some Del Rey license rescues; and Naoki Urasawa’s 20th Century Boys won its second Eisner Award this year.

Oh! And the next Manga Moveable Feast will soon be upon us! Khursten of Otaku Champloo is hosting August’s Feast early in the month in order to coincide 8/01 (a.k.a. “yaoi day.”) Khursten’s calling it a fujojo fiyaysta and the Feast will be focusing on boys’ love and yaoi. So, join us from August 1 to August 10 for a good time, giveaways, and more!

Quick Takes

Honeydew Syndrome, Volumes 1-2 by New Shoe. I thoroughly enjoyed Honeydew Syndrome, particularly it’s quirky and true-to-life characters. Initially released as a webcomic, the boys’ love series was later collected in print in two volumes with additional bonus content. The first volume focuses on the somewhat awkward relationship between Metis and Josh which only gets its start after Josh hauls out and punches Metis in the face. The second volume partly overlaps with the first–some of the same events are seen from different perspectives–and focuses on their friends. Honeydew Syndrome doesn’t really have a driving plot; instead, it’s much more about relationships (and not just the romantic ones.)

Saiyuki Reload, Volumes 1-3 by Kazuya Minekura. Though the manga changed names, magazines, and demographics, Saiyuki Reload is a direct followup to Minekura’s Saiyuki. While I enjoyed the slightly ridiculous Saiyuki, for some reason Saiyuki Reload doesn’t seem to be clicking as well with me. Despite a few flashbacks delving into Sanzo’s past, these early volumes just don’t feel like they’re going anywhere with either the story or the characters. It’s as if Sanzo and his crew are simply playing their previously established roles; the character development seems to be missing. However, the artwork in Saiyuki Reload is more polished than that in Saiyuki. (It is a more recent series after all.) The action sequences tend to be clearer and easier to follow, too.

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei: The Power of Negative Thinking, Volumes 9-10 by Koji Kumeta. Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei was originally released in English by Del Rey, but it is one of the series that Kodansha now continues to publish. It’s a slow seller–there hasn’t been a volume released in over a year–but I can understand why. The series tends to be episodic, has a very specific sense of humor, and the sheer number of cultural references it uses makes the series challenging to translate and adapt. Despite the fact that I often find Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei to be hilarious in a darkly absurd way, I can only read a volume or two at a time without it feeling like a chore. But I do like the series and am glad that it’s available.

Here Is Greenwood directed by Tomomi Mochizuki. Based on the shoujo manga series by Yukie Nasu, Here Is Greenwood is a six-episode OVA. Although it is a mix of strict adaptation, new material, and slight re-imaginings of the stories in the original, the anime stays very true to the tone of the manga. I read and enjoyed Here Is Greenwood and I enjoyed the anime as well, but I don’t think that it will hold much appeal to those who aren’t already familiar with the characters. Here Is Greenwood is fairly episodic but the stories all revolve around the perpetually stressed-out high school student Kazuya Hasukawa, his oddball dorm and class mates, and the often absurd situations they find themselves in. The series is quirky and funny and made me laugh on several occasions.

Bookshelf Briefs 5/21/12

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This week, Sean, Kate, MJ, and Michelle look at recent releases from Yen Press, VIZ Media, Digital Manga Publishing, and Kodansha Comics.

Ai Ore!, Vol. 5 | By Mayu Shinjo | VIZ Media – I have completely given up on these characters – especially Mizuki – growing or learning from any of their experiences. And honestly, doing that makes it much easier to get into the groove of this melodramatic, silly manga. From Akira’s desperately trying to be taken seriously as a guy while wearing a kitty hoodie, to Mizuki’s over-the-top “MY WORLD IS ENDING!” reaction to her first fight with Akira, the situations here are made for amusement. Sure, there’s some soap opera dramatics – the fight I mentioned earlier – but even the serious backstory for Akira, where he reveals that his tutor once brought in an older woman to “make a man of him” – is played with its tongue in cheek. The ending seems to hint we may be seeing the return of “Dark Akira”, though – let’s hope he’s merely firm and seductive, and not the callous ass he was at the start. Fun stuff. –Sean Gaffney

Arata: The Legend, Vol. 10 | By Yuu Watase | VIZ Media – The latest installment of Arata: The Legend features body-swapping hijinks. Usually these kind of comic interludes are a sign that the artist is marking time between big fight scenes, but Yuu Watase uses this time-honored trick to advance the plot in a meaningful fashion, allowing Hinohara to infiltrate Yataka’s stronghold. The body-swapping gimmick also provides the characters an opportunity to reflect on their feelings for one another, giving us greater insight into Hinohara and Mikusa’s personalities. The only drawback to the out-of-character behavior is that it grants Watase license for fan service — something that the series doesn’t need to be funny or sexy. That minor gripe aside, Arata remains engrossing, finding the perfect middle ground between shojo angst and shonen action. Recommended. -Katherine Dacey

Hana-Kimi, Vols. 4-6 Omnibus | By Hisaya Nakajo | VIZ Media – A lot of this second omnibus deals with the class culture festival, where most of Mizuki’s class is dressing up in drag. This gives her an excuse to wear a dress most of the time, even if it’s as Alice in Wonderland. After a strong start, the author seems to have realized that the series will be a long one, so the actual romance between Mizuki and Sano isn’t moved forward as much. Instead, Nakatsu gets the focus, as he struggles with his repressed feelings for a “guy”. He’s mostly comedic, but I liked how he handled telling the girl who likes him that he was breaking it off – he’s a sweetie pie that sadly is doomed in a series like this. The addition of a female friend – as well as a new rival – for Mizuki is also welcome, and I look forward to the third and presumably last teaser omnibus. –Sean Gaffney

Itazura Na Kiss, Vol. 8 | By Kaoru Tada | Published by Digital Manga Publishing – There are times when Itazura Na Kiss is so frustrating, one wants to hurl it against the wall. Usually this is because the protagonist, Kotoko, is almost aggressively incompetent. In this latest volume, she has decided that what she wants to do is become a nurse and help Naoki with his medical practice, so she enrolls in nursing school with practically no idea what this will entail. Naoki is cutting in his criticism, as usual, but what’s interesting is that one of Kotoko’s classmates objects to how Naoki treats his wife and eventually presents himself as an alternative. Naoki, faced with jealous feelings for the first time, is thrown for a loop and it’s what he does to win Kotoko back that makes up for every bit of irritation caused by other elements of the series. Still recommended, despite its flaws! – Michelle Smith

Pandora Hearts, Vol. 10 | By Jun Mochizuki | Yen Press – While the series’ last few volumes have posed many more questions than they have answered, things finally come to a head here in volume ten. This volume is chock full of revelations, particularly regarding Gil and Vincent Nightray, and the atmosphere is tense in exactly the way that shows off Jun Mochizuki’s fast-paced storytelling style to its best advantage. Though crystal-clear plotting has never been Mochizuki’s strong point, clarity in the moment is, which is what makes a volume like this work so well. Panel-to-panel, she maps out these characters’ emotional truths so clearly that the text becomes nearly irrelevant to our understanding of their plights. That said, some of Mochizuki’s dialogue is so delightful (Xerxes Break owns my soul), it would be a tragedy to do without it. Still recommended. – MJ

Psyren, Vol. 4 | By Toshiaki Iwashiro | VIZ Media – I’m starting to enjoy this the more I get into it. The lead is likeable and talented while retaining that ‘everyman’ spirit, the cast isn’t too overpowered yet, and of course hard work is emphasized, as in the best Jump works. The introduction of the Elmore Wood kids is well-handled – they act like typical kids, ranging from bratty to shy to stoic. They help Ageha to figure out how to control his powers (well, we presume – we haven’t seen it in action just yet) by virtue of a simpler mindset and learning at a younger age. And, as a cliffhanger shows, they may be mankind’s last, best hope. Of course, they may all be killed at the start of the next volume, too. The only downside here is Kabuto, who lacks enough likeable traits to make a good comic relief character – you want him to fail. Otherwise, very good stuff. –Sean Gaffney

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, Vol. 12 | By Koji Kumeta | Kodansha Comics – “We’ll have to start a new campaign with easier content so that even first-timers can understand Zetsubou-Sensei,” declares suicidal teacher Itoshiki Nozumu in the first pages of volume 12. What follows is a sharp, funny deconstruction of a common manga practice: the catch-up chapter. I wish the rest of the jokes in volume 12 were as accessible to a Western reader as “The First-Timer Condition,” but the intricate wordplay and cultural allusions often sailed over my head. (Word to the translator: I know what Comiket is! More explanation of the yakuza jokes and economic references, please!) Zetsubou-Sensei ought to be in my wheelhouse — there was a Stendahl joke in chapter 112, for Pete’s sake! — but requires too much explanation to elicit more than an appreciative, “Oh, I get it. Very clever.” -Katherine Dacey

Off the Shelf: Destruction, Despair, & Other Stories

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

MJ: Why, no, Michelle. What about the fire at the circus?

MICHELLE: It was in tents!

MJ: Ba-dum-dum *chick*. Wow. That one was especially painful. And I mean that in the most complimentary way possible.

MICHELLE: I take it as such!

So, read any interesting manga lately?

MJ: Indeed I have! First of all, I was finally able to dig into one of my most eagerly anticipated releases this year, Osamu Tezuka’s The Book of Human Insects, out recently from Vertical.

I chose Human Insects as a Pick of the Week just over a month ago, and at the time my expectation was that it would “be one of those books that blows me away with its artistry while simultaneously killing me with its outlook on humanity.” I’m pleased to say that the latter was actually not the case at all, which made this an even more enthralling experience than I expected.

Just barely into her twenties, Toshiko Tomura is already a revered and accomplished artist in more fields than most of us will even dabble in over the course of our lifetimes, let alone master. She’s won prestigious awards in both writing and design, after already having achieved notoriety as a dazzling stage actress. What Tezuka soon reveals, is that she’s acquired all of these accomplishments by attaching herself to brilliant mentors and absorbing their talent and creativity to the point of effectively making them her own. She’s a gorgeous, seductive monster, consuming the lives of everyone she touches and leaving them (sometimes literally) for dead.

I often have difficulty enjoying a story in which I don’t like the protagonist, so what was particularly astounding about Toshiko for me, is that Tezuka was occasionally able to make me root for her, as horrifying as that seems. There’s no thought of “redemption” here—no romantic transformation or even mercy to be found in Toshiko’s trajectory. She’s more Becky Sharp than Cordelia Chase, and Tezuka is far more brutal to his anti-heroine’s victims than Thackeray ever was. Yet she’s so full of life and the brilliant spark of desire, it’s impossible not to fall for Toshiko just a little bit, even against one’s own will.

The book is every bit as scathing as I expected, but there’s an exuberance to Tezuka’s writing here that keeps it from sinking into real darkness. You get the sense that he’s been seduced by Toshiko too, and in the end, he treats her with more respect and even affection than, say, a character like Ayako, who is (presumably) intended to evoke our sympathy. It’s complicated, and certainly not as morally straightforward, but much more compelling overall.

Coming at Tezuka’s work from a modern, feminist point of view can sometimes be difficult, but The Book of Human Insects was a true pleasure for me, from start to finish. I highly recommend it.

MICHELLE: Wow, that Becky Sharp comparison really sums up her character in a nutshell. I am immensely pleased that you enjoyed this so much because I’ve been eying it with some trepidation since Ayako proved to be so misanthropic. Maybe I’ve no need to be wary after all!

MJ: I think you’ll enjoy this, Michelle, I really do. And I find myself even more excited now to dig into Princess Knight, not because I expect it to be remotely similar, but because I’m finally convinced that I can trust Tezuka with a female protagonist.

So what have you been reading this week?

MICHELLE: Nothing so deep as Tezuka, but enjoyable reads nonetheless.

First up is the eleventh volume of Koji Kumeta’s Sayonara, Zetsubou-sensei, a shounen comedy about a perpetually despairing teacher named Nozomu Itoshiki and his students, each of whom is possessed of a specific plight or personality trait (indebted housewife, fujoshi, etc.).

I know you’ve read a fair amount of this series, so you’re familiar with its pattern. Essentially, each chapter opens with the characters spending a couple of pages in a particular scene. Like, for example, going to the beach on summer holidays. Then something triggers Itoshiki and off he goes, ranting about this or the other, eventually spewing out lists of transgressors until he is interupted by Kafuka, a student with a more positive outlook on things. There are recurring visual gags as well, like how Itoshiki’s sister is always first glimpsed with her back to the reader, or the absolutely miserable-looking dog with a stick in its butt.

Zetsubou-sensei is at its best when focusing on universal issues, and there are definitely chapters in that vein in this volume. Alas, there are also quite a few that seem very Japanese-centric, with the result that I enjoyed this volume somewhat less than its immediate predecessors. Still, it’s fun and I will keep reading and hoping that someone will help that wretched dog.

MJ: It’s nice to know that you’re still enjoying this series, Michelle, even if you found this volume less accessible than some. I’m always torn when it comes to gag manga, because I find it difficult to remain engaged when nothing really changes for the characters over time. But this series weathers that issue better than most for me. I’m glad you’re having a similar experience.

MICHELLE: For me, too. I tried reading Dr. Slump, for instance, and though I liked Toriyama’s COWA! and Sand Land quite a lot, the all-gag-all-the-time nature of Dr. Slump was just too much for me. Zetsubou is somehow different. Maybe it’s because it gradually evolves a little; I always like when a face is added to another student in the class, for example. This latest school year (Itoshiki’s students are doomed to perpetually repeat their second year of high school) saw a boy transfer into the class and much has been made of his outlandish fashion sense, so that’s pretty fun. And, of course, the art is attractive and the covers are gorgeous, so there’s that in its favor as well.

What else have you been reading?

MJ: My second read this week was in a completely different vein than the first, though it’s also been a Pick of the Week. I am speaking of the latest re-release of X (formerly X/1999), CLAMP’s ambitious, action-packed follow-up to my favorite of their series, Tokyo Babylon.

Now, as I’ve mentioned previously, I’m a much bigger fan of Tokyo Babylon, which I read long before I ever started X, and I think on some level I’ve always blamed X for simply not being Tokyo Babylon. These new 3-in-1 volumes are so gorgeous to look at, though, I hoped the fresh look might grant the series a second chance to impress me on its own terms.

While I’m not sure I’ve been fully impressed by the series this time around, I’m certainly enjoying it much, much more, and not just because it looks so pretty (though it really, really does). What’s really happened for me, though, is that Viz’s bigger, better presentation has given X a level of physical grandeur that finally matches its tone. X is a sweeping, epic production in every way possible. Everything in the story—emotion, action, plot—all of it occurs on a grand scale. It’s a never-ending symphony of love, hate, creation, and destruction. There are no half-measures in X, for better or worse.

Reading Viz’s “shojo” editions (and even their slightly larger original editions), I found this level of melodrama a bit hard to take. It was dark and sweeping, sure, but I found myself rolling my eyes at much of the grander drama and becoming impatient with its slow-moving plot. The stark intimacy of Tokyo Babylon was nowhere to be found, replaced by endless philosophizing on world destruction that appeared hollow at its core, at least to my eyes.

Now, with the series’ drama laid out in a visual form at least as grand and sweeping as its multi-layered plot, the entire pace of the manga has changed for me, and with it, its heartbeat, which I could barely discern before. Suddenly I’m able to deeply immerse myself in the world CLAMP has created, and enjoy the melodrama from within, rather than watching it from above. And honestly, it’s made all the difference in the world. Suddenly I care about these characters and their epic conflict, and I’m not just waiting around for Subaru to turn up so I’d have someone to give a crap about.

X may still not be my very favorite of CLAMP’s work, but I feel that I finally understand its charm. Bravo, Viz. I look forward to more.

MICHELLE: You know, I watched the X anime and really liked it, but when it came to the manga, I never got beyond the first volume. Maybe it was physical grandeur that I was missing! The anime could capture the epic sweep but some out-sized, flipped-art manga volume just didn’t do it for me. I did buy the Shojo editions when they came out, but I am pretty sure the art in those was still flipped.

Anyway, I am really looking forward to approaching X in this new format (and I believe with a new translation or at least new adaptation, as well). One day you and I will be caught up on it and can join the lamenting masses over its unfinished status.

MJ: The translation is credited to Lillian Olsen, who is also credited in both of the earlier editions, but I haven’t compared them to see what might be different now that Leyla Aker is editing. In any case, the new edition has a much grander impact!

So what else do you have to share with us this week?

MICHELLE: After a long wait, NETCOMICS has released the third and final volume of Small-Minded Schoolgirls by toma. Having loved the first two volumes, I had to check it out.

In this online exclusive, two career women in their early thirties must balance their professional and personal lives as they seek to find “the one.” Miru Na is a novelist, and as the third volume begins she has embarked upon a casual relationship with a hairstylist named Wontae. Meanwhile, it’s obvious that her brother’s friend, Jigwan, has serious feelings for her. The other protagonist, Somi Han, is working as an editor and dealing with her attraction to a coworker, despite the fact that she has a boyfriend (who has put their relationship on hold for a year to go to art school, where he has also found someone else who interests him).

If you’re thinking this all sounds pretty complicated, you’re right, and I haven’t even mentioned the part where Miru’s brother has relationship woes or Jigwan’s former girlfriend wants to make up and get married! As I read this volume, I kept thinking that this is prime material for a k-drama. I’m honestly surprised such an adaptation doesn’t exist yet!

So, on the one hand, this is a satisfying conclusion to the series. On the other, though, I found all the back and forth a little tiring. At one point Miru and Jigwan are discussing his ex, and she says, “At our age, when two people lose something special it’s hard to get it back.” That’s kind of how I feel about this series. I just couldn’t connect with it on the same level I did before. Part of the problem may be the translation/adaptation, which is sloppier than I remember it being in the first two volumes.

Ultimately, I am thrilled to have had the chance to read this series, which is the closest thing we have in English to Korean josei. And I’d still recommend it heartily, especially since reading all three volumes at once will probably yield better results than I have personally experienced.

MJ: I really enjoyed the first two volumes of this series as well, so I admit I’m disappointed to hear that the third may not live up to the their standard. I expect you may be right in assuming that reading all three together may be more satisfying, but it’s still a bit of a blow. There are a number of other grown-up ladies’ manhwa I enjoy at NETCOMICS, though, so I don’t feel entirely lost.

MICHELLE: I hope I didn’t give the impression that it’s bad, because it isn’t, it’s just hard to get back into after all this time. And speaking of other ladies’ manhwa, NETCOMICS is planning to resume online serialization of Please, Please Me this month after a hiatus of over a year. Looks like that’ll be the final volume, too. Then maybe they’ll resume The Adventures of Young Det!

MJ: Oh, good news indeed!

MICHELLE: Forsooth! I’m so happy to have NETCOMICS back in play!

Bookshelf Briefs 8/29/11

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This week, Kate, David, MJ, & Michelle look at recent releases from Kodansha Comics, Viz Media, and Vertical, Inc.

Animal Land, Vol. 1 | By Makoto Raiku | Kodansha Comics – This odd little fable focuses on Monoko, a tanuki who discovers a human baby at the edge of a river. Monoko, herself an orphan, immediately identifies with Tarozo’s plight, and vows to raise him herself — a vow complicated by many factors, including an abundance of dangerous predators lurking just outside the tanukis’ village. Whether you’ll like Animal Land depends on how you feel about the tanukis, as they look like theme-park mascots with grotesquely oversized ears and china-doll faces. (I suppose we should be thankful that Makoto Raiku didn’t follow convention in super-sizing other parts of the tanukis’ anatomy, but still.) The tanukis’ behavior is just as outsized as their ears, steadily alternating between pratfalls and teary, anguished conversation, leaving little room for character development or new patterns of interaction. Younger readers won’t mind, but adults may find the tanukis’ odd appearance and frantic antics tiresome. – Katherine Dacey

Bokurano: Ours, Vol. 4 | By Mohiro Kitoh | Published by VIZ Media – Mangaka Mohiro Kitoh is beginning to tweak the established formula of Bokurano: Ours in some innovative ways. The presence of a pair of military observers (Seki and Tanaka) is making a big difference, for example, as they introduce more organization to what’s going on, resulting in some gatherings where the children interact with one another prior to someone being called for pilot duty. Too, it appears that two of the kids don’t actually have a binding contract to participate, which interjects an interesting complication to the story. (The kids assume this includes the lone fourth grader in their midst, but I somehow doubt she’ll be off the hook.) Lastly, the stakes are especially high for one of this volume’s pilots, who hopes to save a sick friend’s life with an organ donation, resulting in a cliffhanger that sent me to the SigIkki website for the resolution. Good stuff! – Michelle Smith

Oresama Teacher, Vol. 4 | By Izumi Tsubaki | Published by VIZ Media – I feel like I’m always unexpectedly learning something when I read Oresama Teacher. First, there was the informative sequence on how to foil attempts to tie you up, and now we learn techniques for dodging and deflecting blows as Mafuyu (in her mail guise, Natsuo) trains Hayasaka in the finer points of fighting so he’ll be prepared to square off against the members of a rival club who’re out to ambush the members of the Public Morals Club. Mafuyu is worried about how straightforward Hayasaka will fare in a fight, but comes to trust him and even realizes that, though gullible Hayasaka completely believes in and reveres two of her adopted personas, he also cares for her true self enough to put himself in jeopardy. With all the action and comedy, this isn’t really a romance manga, but I still think I may detect some feelings beginning to bloom… – Michelle Smith

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, Vol. 10 | By Koji Kumeta | Kodansha Comics – There’s a lot to like about Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, from its crisp, confident artwork to its broad, equally confident characterization. But what’s really most impressive about this series is its ability to remain funny, volume after volume, while its format (and universe) remains unchanged. Nobody wearies of a gag manga faster than I do, but ten volumes in, I’m still laughing at Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei. Furthermore, volume ten is one of the series’ strongest so far. Jokes related to its then-new anime adaptation continue from the previous volume, enhancing (but not overwhelming) chapters revolving around subjects such as three-way standoffs, protecting “unnature,” entitlement, and “May sickness,” and even the volume’s most Japanese-specific jokes appear to translate effortlessly in the hands of new adapter Joshua Weeks. Still recommended. – MJ

Velveteen & Mandala | By Jiro Matsumoto | Vertical– If you read some of the cruder entries in Top Shelf’s AX anthology and found yourself saying, “I wish this was longer,” then Velveteen and Mandala is the book for you. Matsumoto pits dim, bickering schoolgirls against a horde of bemused zombies, throwing gobs of gross-out humor and precocious sexuality into the mix. Imagine a better-drawn Tokyo Zombie with female protagonists, and you’ll have the general idea. There’s certainly an audience for this sort of thing, but it’s equally certain that I’m not a member of that subset of comic fandom. To be honest, Velveteen and Mandala, with its indifferent plotting and feeble, familiar attempts at transgression tested my patience far more often than it rewarded it. Aside from some stylistic flourishes, there’s nothing here that you probably haven’t seen before, and it’s up to you whether you’re really eager to see it again. – David Welsh

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, Vol. 4

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zetsubou4By Koji Kumeta
Del Rey, 192 pp.
Rating: OT (16+)

Suicidal schoolteacher Nozomu Itoshiki (Zetsubou-sensei) and his students are back, with a satirical take on such topics as Christmas, leftovers, societal hierarchies, cooling-off periods, second opinions, and how to deal with dead space. Even exam students are taken to task in this volume, as Zetsubou-sensei despairs over their ability to get away with nearly anything–a privilege he attempts to recapture for himself by engaging in a series of increasingly ridiculous certification programs. Easily passing tests for certifications in flower arrangement and animal breeding (and scraping by in subjects like “love”), he finds himself ultimately unqualified for either “life” or “death” (a certification that requires numerous sub-licenses, such as “writing a suicide note” and “how to leave your shoes”), leaving him trapped ever further in despair.

Since this series has been dismissed by some as relying too heavily on inside jokes and obscure cultural references to be effective with North American readers, it is important to note that volume four is easily the most accessible in the series so far, requiring very few trips to the translator’s notes provided in the back (and virtually none for readers familiar with Japanese manzai characters—the only cultural reference in this volume absolutely required for the understanding of an entire chapter). Smooth reading facilitates smooth comedy, making this volume more universally hilarious than its predecessors as well. For those who have loved this series from the beginning, volume four is yet another fabulous treat provided by tireless translator/adapter Joyce Aurino and the folks at Del Rey Manga. For those who have yet to warm to the series’ charms, perhaps this is the place to start.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei: The Power of Negative Thinking, Vol. 3

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By Koji Kumeta
Del Rey, 176 pp.
Rating: OT (16+)

In this volume, eternally despairing schoolteacher Nozomu Itoshiki and his students address gross-out contests, the power of storytelling, amakudari, school cultural festivals, omikoshi (portable shrines used during festivals), mistakes, class trips, hibernation, and yaminabe, each, of course, with a satirical eye. The yaminabe (dark hot pot), for instance, becomes a “yaminabe of the heart,” made up of all the students’ darkest secrets; the trip Itoshiki’s class takes is only a preview of the trip; and the class’s participation in the school’s cultural festival is crafted to adhere to the Japanese constitution’s guaranteed “minimum standards” of cultural living.

Though this volume perhaps exceeds its predecessors in terms of obscure cultural references and inside jokes, it is a credit both to the mangaka and to English adapter Joyce Aurino that it is able to remain both smart and wonderfully funny, regardless of the difficulty in translation. The chapters regarding amakudari (the Japanese practice of senior bureaucrats retiring to cushy, taxpayer-supported positions) and “mistakes” are prime examples of this, with their long lists of references likely to be lost on western readers. For the most part, however, each chapter contains a pleasant balance of humor both universal and obscure, providing a satisfying reading experience along with a real sense of place.

Koji Kumeta’s artwork continues to be utterly charming, matching the crisp humor of the narrative with its clean lines and minimal use of screen tone. Though this title is not for everyone, fans of the series will find that this volume is guaranteed to please.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei: The Power of Negative Thinking, Volume 2

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Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei: The Power of Negative Thinking, Vol. 2
By Koji Kumeta
Published by Del Rey Manga

szs2
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Unflinchingly bleak schoolteacher Nozomu Itoshiki and his students are back, beginning with a chapter set during Tanabata in which Itoshiki-sensei’s wish (“I want to resign”) stands in contrast to the actions of overly-optimistic Kafuka who hangs people’s college applications on the bamboo tree and convinces the masses that their wishes can be granted in their next lives. This chapter opens the volume well, re-introducing the characters effectively before moving on. This volume also features a visit from a man posing as Commodore Perry (the man who famously “opened” Japan), a tirade against information, the tragedy of overshadowed achievers, Comiket, a beach where everyone is perilously on edge, the Itoshiki family’s unusual marriage traditions, so-called “criticism training,” and an ode to instability, all presented with the same sharp, fast-paced satire as the series’ first volume.

The success of this volume once again mainly comes down to personal taste and sense of humor. If the first volume did not make you laugh, this one will not either, but if it did, you’re in for another treat. Though the numerous Japanese cultural references may actually be even more dense in this volume, Joyce Aurino’s adaptation still reads quite smoothly and I maintain my original recommendation against following her meticulous translation notes during the first read.

It is the thick layers of humor that strike me most in this series. Not only are each chapter’s main gags wonderfully funny and over-the-top, but the tiny details–small, throw-away jokes nearly lost in the din with their barely legible font sizes–are often so funny I have to stop reading to let myself get in a good, long laugh. Like the first volume, this book gets funnier with multiple rereads–another reason why catching each reference the first time around is honestly unnecessary. Unlike a lot of shonen manga which is consumed so quickly it leaves you just as hungry as when you began, this series is best ingested slowly, chewed carefully several times over for the most satisfying meal.

Simultaneously breezy and dark, volume two of Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei is just as grimly delightful as it can be.

Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei, Vol. 1

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By Koji Kumeta
Del Rey, 192 pp.
Rating: OT (16+)

Schoolteacher Nozomu Itoshiki is pessimistic, depressed, and fed up with the world. He is first introduced attempting to hang himself from a cherry tree, where he is discovered by student Kafuka Fuura, who nearly kills him in the process of trying to pull him down. “What if I had died?” Nozomu exclaims, setting the tone for this whimsical black comedy from the start. Kafuka is the polar opposite of Nozomu, excessively optimistic to the point of delusion. Unable to believe that anyone could consider suicide on a beautiful spring day, she insists that Nozomu must have been trying to “make himself taller,” a practice she confesses her father took up often when faced with hard times. “At times, even mother would try to grow taller,” she says brightly, pushing Nozomu’s patience to the limit. Thus the two who never should have met, meet—the man who views everything negatively, and the girl who views everything positively.

Despite the inauspicious nature of their meeting, it seems that it was destined (or at least unavoidable), as Nozomu soon discovers that Kafuka is a student in his new class. The rest of the volume proceeds to introduce Nozomu’s other students one by one, each of whom is an extreme example of a dysfunctional stereotype—a stalker, a hikikomori (shut-in), an obsessive-compulsive, an abusive e-mailer, et cetera—most of whom develop some kind of fixation with their teacher. Though the premise could easily become mean-spirited, it never does, and each of the characters is presented with both humor and affection, the most poignant perhaps being Nami, the “ordinary” girl, whose only defining trait (much to her dismay) turns out to be that there is nothing really wrong with her at all.

Nozomu is not exactly a misanthrope, though he does suspect most people of plotting to wrong him, and he bonds with his students in spite of himself, if sometimes in slightly disturbing ways. Yes, he tears down their aspirations, belittles them with low expectations, engages in blatant favoritism (“Hold it! Don’t bully the girl I’m favoring.”), abandons them in class, and occasionally evaluates them as potential candidates for double-suicide. Yet somehow, through the filter of Koji Kumeta’s dark humor, he manages to be charming and almost warm as he leads his small band of misfits down the road to despair. His students are delightful, each in her own way, but Nozomu is the unlikely touchstone who keeps things grounded, and during the chapter or two in which he plays truant, his absence is keenly felt. Fortunately, the humorous payoff when he finally returns to the page is well worth it.

The real secret to this manga’s success is that nothing is ever allowed to become too serious or biting. The humor is dry but never bitter, and though some of the jokes translate better into English than others, each leads deftly into the next, showing off Kumeta’s satirical prowess. Even the fan service is played for laughs, deliberately inserted into the most absurd situations. The humor is sharp but never cutting, and the juxtaposition of complex satire, silly puns, and simple sight gags ensures that the mood remains light throughout.

One of the best visual gags happens quite early on as the book introduces Matoi Tsunetsuki, a girl who obsessively stalks any guy she falls for. After becoming interested in her teacher (Nozomu) she begins following him. This causes the boy she was previously interested in to become jealous, and so he starts following her. Another girl who is interested in that boy notices, and starts stalking him, and so on, until there is finally a chain of stalkers, each following the last with minimal subtlety.

The art is nicely clear and deceptively simple. Most of the girls are so similar in design, they look like a single girl with interchangeable hair, though the level of individuality granted to them with just hairstyle and expression is pretty impressive. The overall design is more complex, filled with fantastic angles and fun backgrounds, all in a wonderfully crisp style that manages to be both detailed and clean at the same time.

The book is dense with obscure jokes and Japanese cultural references, painstakingly annotated by translator Joyce Aurino over a whopping twelve pages at the back of the book. With so much information provided, it is easy to fall into the habit of checking the endnotes obsessively while reading, but this is really not a good idea. With a few exceptions (and despite what must have been an incredibly difficult translation process), Aurino’s adaptation stands strongly on its own, and though the notes are very interesting and informative, the interruption of the reading experience is simply not worth it. In most cases the context itself is sufficient, at least for the first read-through, and the notes can be viewed as an enlightening bonus to be enjoyed afterwards. With multiple layers of satire at work, this is definitely a book worth re-reading, so there are plenty of opportunities to catch new jokes that may have slipped by on the first read or two.

It is probably safe to say that the success of Sayonara, Zetsubou-Sensei with any individual reader will depend entirely on whether or not that reader’s sense of humor meshes with Kumeta’s, and this question should be clearly answered by the end of the first chapter. If it’s not funny by then, it’s never going to be. But for those who are laughing by the end of the chapter, this book will provide a rare treat which, thanks to Del Rey, is about to become more common.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at PopCultureShock.