• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Home
  • About Us
    • Privacy Policy
    • Comment Policy
    • Disclosures & Disclaimers
  • Resources
    • Links, Essays & Articles
    • Fandomology!
    • CLAMP Directory
    • BlogRoll
  • Features & Columns
    • 3 Things Thursday
    • Adventures in the Key of Shoujo
    • Bit & Blips (game reviews)
    • BL BOOKRACK
    • Bookshelf Briefs
    • Bringing the Drama
    • Comic Conversion
    • Fanservice Friday
    • Going Digital
    • It Came From the Sinosphere
    • License This!
    • Magazine no Mori
    • My Week in Manga
    • OFF THE SHELF
    • Not By Manga Alone
    • PICK OF THE WEEK
    • Subtitles & Sensibility
    • Weekly Shonen Jump Recaps
  • Manga Moveable Feast
    • MMF Full Archive
    • Yun Kouga
    • CLAMP
    • Shojo Beat
    • Osamu Tezuka
    • Sailor Moon
    • Fruits Basket
    • Takehiko Inoue
    • Wild Adapter
    • One Piece
    • After School Nightmare
    • Karakuri Odette
    • Paradise Kiss
    • The Color Trilogy
    • To Terra…
    • Sexy Voice & Robo
  • Browse by Author
    • Sean Gaffney
    • Anna Neatrour
    • Michelle Smith
    • Katherine Dacey
    • MJ
    • Brigid Alverson
    • Travis Anderson
    • Phillip Anthony
    • Derek Bown
    • Jaci Dahlvang
    • Angela Eastman
    • Erica Friedman
    • Sara K.
    • Megan Purdy
    • Emily Snodgrass
    • Nancy Thistlethwaite
    • Eva Volin
    • David Welsh
  • MB Blogs
    • A Case Suitable For Treatment
    • Experiments in Manga
    • MangaBlog
    • The Manga Critic
    • Manga Report
    • Soliloquy in Blue
    • Manga Curmudgeon (archive)

Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Shuzo Oshimi

Blood on the Tracks, Vols. 1-5

February 10, 2023 by Katherine Dacey

One part Mommie Dearest, one part Kids, Blood on the Tracks is an unsettling depiction of the toxic parent-child relationship between Seiko, an overbearing mother, and Seiichi, her thirteen-year-old son.

The first volume is an artful tease, frankly portraying Seiko’s controlling behavior while encouraging the reader to see it through her obedient son’s eyes: as an expression of parental love. Oshimi hints that Seiko’s attachment to Seiichi goes beyond a simple desire to protect him, but it isn’t until a fateful hiking trip that Seiko’s true ability to manipulate and terrorize Seichii is revealed. In the aftermath of the trip, Seiichi begins to question his earliest childhood memories, and forms a connection with his classmate Yuko, another teen caught in a toxic parent-child relationship. The teens’ effort to break free of abuse, however, is thwarted by their age and by Seiichi’s deep-seated guilt about running away from home; the final page of volume five shows Seiichi abandoning Yuko under a highway overpass to search for his mother, rain and tears streaming down his face.

I’d be the first to admit that Blood on the Tracks is a potent reminder of just how good an artist Oshimi is. No matter what genre he’s working in, he does a superb job of creating fully embodied characters whose facial expressions, gaits, and vocal tics reflect their lived experiences; we can see how socially and emotionally stunted Seiichi is from the way he slouches and stands on the fringes of his friend group at school, and from his difficulty making eye contact with other people. Even more striking is how fluidly Oshimi segues from crisp naturalism to abstraction, using the latter as a way of representing how feelings manifest not as fully formed thoughts but as vivid, unsettling images that intrude on everyday life. Oshimi’s expressive linework and creative use of perspective give these sequences a visceral authenticity that would be almost impossible to achieve with language. 

In this scene, for example, Oshimi shows us the turning point in Seiko’s relationship with his mother. The first image in the sequence offers a fleeting glimpse of Seiko as Seiichi used to see her: as a beautiful young woman who devoted her life to protecting her son from harm. The second and third images in the sequence, however, reveal how Seiichi now sees her: as a terrifying stranger, a point reinforced by his wide-eyed stare and the faint smirk on Seiko’s lips. Oshimi sharply contrasts the beauty of the setting with the horror of what just transpired, creating a visual analog for Seiichi’s shock at learning who his mother really is.

The stumbling block—for me, at least—is that Oshimi’s stories always veer into the uncomfortable terrain of transgressive behavior and power dynamics. His characters exhibit such destructive, sadistic tendencies that his work often leaves me feeling queasy, not least because so many of his protagonists are teenagers. Maybe that’s the point: we can’t understand what it’s like to live with a pathologically selfish person unless Oshimi uses jump scares and creepy close-ups to make us feel the same sense of apprehension that Seiichi does. Yet there’s something distressing about making entertainment out of this material, however convincing his portrayal of Seiko’s pathology may be; I couldn’t shake the feeling that watching Seiko squeeze the life out of her son was a kind of emotional torture porn. I threw in the towel with volume five, but your mileage may vary.

BLOOD ON THE TRACKS, VOLS. 1-5 • BY SHUZO OSHIMI • TRANSLATED BY DANIEL KOMEN • VERTICAL

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Shuzo Oshimi, Vertical Comics

The Manga Review, 10/28/22

October 28, 2022 by Katherine Dacey Leave a Comment

Over the last year, The Comics Journal has been translating essays by prolific manga critic Natsume Fusanosuke. The topics have run the gamut from Taiyo Matsumoto’s distinctive visual style to the enduring appeal of Sazae-san and Rumiko Takahashi’s role in bringing romance to shonen manga. The latest installment focuses on Miyaya Kazuhiko, a key figure in the gekiga movement who’s not particularly well known to Western readers. In their helpful introduction, translators John Holt and Teppei Fukuda compare Natsume’s essay to Tatsumi Yoshihiro’s A Drifting Life, arguing that both Yoshihiro and Natsume write their “autobiograph[ies] as a history of gekiga. For Natsume, Miyaya’s gekiga form the pivotal ‘chapters’ in his own life as a ‘manga youth’ (manga seinen), coming of age in Japan in the 1960s and 1970s.” That’s a helpful way of understanding the essay’s mixture of self-reflection and analysis; Natsume uses his personal experiences to show the reader what Miyaya’s work meant to Japanese readers during a period of immense social, cultural, and technological change.

NEWS AND VIEWS

Seven Seas announced that it will be publishing LUPIN III (Lupin the Third): Thick as Thieves – Classic Manga Collection, “a curated collection of some of Monkey Punch’s best stories and chapters of Lupin III from throughout the classic manga’s history.” The book will be available in digital and hardcover editions next summer. [Seven Seas]

If you missed the first issue of Glaeolia, fear not: Glacier Bay Books is currently raising money for a reprint. (N.B. The crowdfundr page is not yet accepting pledges; the site should go live this weekend.) [Glacier Bay Books]

Jocelyne Allen sings the praises of Japanese SF Comics, a collection of sci-fi stories by Keiko Takamiya, Osamu Tezuka, and Junko Sasaki. Someone license this, please! [Brain vs. Book]

Found on Twitter: Kiuchi Niboro’s manga memoir about his time in a Soviet POW camp. It’s a fascinating look at a forgotten chapter of World War II history. [tara_chara]

What does Space Brothers have in common with M*A*S*H? The Mangasplainers are big fans of both, and divide their latest episode between a discussion of Chuya Koyama’s sci-fi drama and a discussion of the beloved seventies sitcom. [Mangasplaining… er, M*A*S*Hsplaining]

Tom and Joe, a.k.a. the Anime Sickos, sit down with one of Twitter’s most popular manga influencers, Minovsky Article. [Anime Sickos]

The Manga Machinations crew dedicate their latest podcast to Franken Fran, Wonderland, and Muhyo & Roji’s Bureau of Supernatural Investigation. [Manga Machinations]

Scholar Kathryn Hemmann explores the relationship between dojinshi and Western zine culture, drawing on their own experiences “both as an indie zine maker and as someone who has participated in big anthology fanzines.” [WWAC]

REVIEWS

In keeping with the spirit of Halloween, this week’s featured review analyzes Junji Ito’s Black Paradox, just out from VIZ. Christoper Farris argues that the book isn’t “especially ‘scary’ in a traditional sense, noting that “[t]here aren’t a lot of page-turn jump-scares included, and even the idea of gnawing, anxious dread is tied more to a character’s interior development rather than tangibly imparted to the reader. Black Paradox instead mostly thrives on general conceptual weirdness, letting Ito cut loose with body horror in time with the broadening of the plot.”

Also worth a look is Megan D.’s review of Happiness, a vampire manga by Shuzo Oshimi (Blood on the Tracks, Flowers of Evil). “Happiness is at its best when it tries to visualize the terror and confusion of a vampiric transformation against one’s will,” she observes, “but it’s hard to shake the feeling that from this point onward Oshimi was starting to rely on a story formula that was starting to get a little repetitious and questionable in its gender politics.”

  • Beauty and the Feast, Vol. 4 (Krystallina, The OASG)
  • CANIS Dear Hatter, Vol. 1 (Sarah, Anime UK News)
  • Dai Dark, Vol. 2 (Sara Smith, The Graphic Library)
  • Dandadan, Vol. 1 (Caitlin Moore, Anime News Network)
  • Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End, Vol. 6 (Josh Piedra, The Outerhaven)
  • Hi, I’m a Witch and My Crush Wants Me to Make a Love Potion, Vol. 1 (Krystallina, The OASG)
  • How Do We Relationship?, Vols. 6-7 (King Baby Duck, Boston Bastard Brigade)
  • Ikigami: The Ultimate Limit, Vol. 10 (SKJAM, SKJAM! Reviews)
  • Magical Explorer: Reborn as a Side Character in a Fantasy Dating Sim, Vol. 1 (Brett Michael Orr, Honey’s Anime)
  • Moriarty the Patriot, Vols. 8-9 (King Baby Duck, Boston Bastard Brigade)
  • No Longer Heroine, Vol. 1 (Renee Scott, Good Comics for Kids)
  • Parasyte, Vol. 4 (Sara Smith, The Graphic Library)
  • A Returner’s Magic Should Be Special, Vol. 1 (Brett Michael Orr, Honey’s Anime)
  • Moriarty the Patriot, Vols. 8-9 (King Baby Duck, Boston Bastard Brigade)
  • Spy x Family, Vol. 8 (Sara Smith, The Graphic Library)
  • Toilet-Bound Hanako, Vol. 6 (Sara Smith, The Graphic Library)
  • Undead Unluck, Vols. 8-9 (King Baby Duck, Boston Bastard Brigade)
  • Villains Are Destined to Die, Vol. 1 (Josh Piedra, The Outerhaven)

Filed Under: FEATURES Tagged With: Doujinshi, Glacier Bay Books, Horror/Supernatural, Junji Ito, Kazuhiko Miyaya, Lupin III, Seven Seas, Shuzo Oshimi

Happiness, Vols. 4-7

May 19, 2018 by Katherine Dacey

 

This review contains a few spoilers for later volumes of Happiness, and discusses one character’s efforts to cope with PTSD after a violent attack. Proceed with caution. 

The first three volumes of Shuzo Oshimi’s Happiness explore familiar terrain, using vampirism as a metaphor for the ravages of puberty, that moment when hormonal urges overwhelm the rational mind and the body morphs into its adult form. And while these early volumes contained some well-rehearsed scenes of bullying and bloodlust, Oshimi’s artwork — at once raw and refined, primitive and expressionist — made these moments feel strange, fresh, and specific to his story. One could feel fourteen-year-old Makoto Okazaki’s palpable anguish over being trapped in a body and a life he could no longer control, and wondered how he might escape his fate.

Volume four was a turning point in the series, culminating in a scene of frenzied violence in which a major character was killed, another forced into hiding, and a third — Gosho — badly wounded. The violence was grotesque in the Romantic sense of the word, a scene so horrific that it filled with reader with a strong sense of revulsion and pity. But a curious thing happened in the next installment: in the aftermath of this bloody cataclysm, Happiness became Gosho’s story. A time jump advanced the plot ten years into the future, showing us Gosho’s efforts to rebuild her life, one temp job at a time.

Though Gosho seems outwardly calm and self-possessed, her carefully constructed facade is shattered in volume six by a sensational newspaper headline: “Vampire Boy: Where Is He Now?” Oshimi captures Gosho’s experience of being triggered in all its nauseous horror; we can see a painful memory well up in Gosho, causing her to double over and fall to her knees as if she were trying to purge her body of all the fear and shame she’d experienced on that fateful night ten years ago. What makes this moment even more powerful is the skill with which Oshimi captures Gosho’s mounting terror through a series of closeups — first her face, then her eye, then the article itself, as her gaze darts across the page, lingering on a striking image or a suggestive snippet of text.

For all the emotional intensity of this moment, however, volume six is largely uneventful, focusing primarily on the tenative relationship between Gosho and Sudo, her co-worker. Much of their courtship unfolds in brief, wordless scenes depicting everyday activities: eating out, walking home from the train station, buying groceries. The normalcy of these vignettes suggests that Gosho has recovered from her anxiety attack — that is, until Gosho glimpses a boy who might be a vampire:

What makes this image so potent is its ambiguity: is it a figment of Gosho’s imagination, a flashback, or an actual vampire? We’re left feeling as unsettled as Gosho, and wonder what this bloody omen might mean.

That brings me to the hardest part of my review.

Despite the consummate skill and sensitivity with which volumes five and six explore Gosho’s psychic wounds, volume seven may be my last, primarily because I’m dismayed by Oshimi’s decision to further brutalize Gosho. In volume five, Gosho nearly died at the hands of a knife-wielding psychopath, an event that left her with an angry scar on her neck. The terror she felt, and the violence of the scene, seemed necessary at that juncture in the story, revealing the extent to which Gosho’s naivete, determination, and caring could be ruthlessly exploited by someone older and more experienced.

In volume seven, however, Gosho is captured by a cult leader who tortures her, mutilating her body and smearing it with her own menstrual blood. The violence in this scene is fundamentally sexual and, frankly, disgusting. One might argue that Oshimi is deliberately provoking the reader, making us complicit in Gosho’s exploitation, but nothing in Oshimi’s other work — Drifting Net Cafe, The Flowers of Evil — suggests that level of critical engagement with tropes. Instead, it feels as if Oshimi is using this violence as a shortcut, a way of revealing the cult leader’s depravity while providing Sudo motivation to seek revenge on behalf of his girlfriend. The scene also undermines Gosho’s agency — she broke into the cult’s compound looking for Okazaki — and dehumanizes her, reducing her womanhood to breasts and blood rather than her courage, intelligence, and determination to save a friend she hasn’t seen in a decade.

I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of reading and watching scenes like these, whether they serve a legitimate dramatic purpose or not. Oshimi’s undeniable artistry makes quitting Happiness an even more difficult decision for me, as I found his artwork and storytelling in the first six volumes compelling. (Hell, I’m quoted in the promotional literature for Happiness.) I don’t have the stomach for another scene of Gosho’s degradation, however, so I don’t think I’ll be reading volume eight.

HAPPINESS, VOLS. 3-7 • BY SHUZO OSHIMI • KODANSHA COMICS • RATED OT, FOR OLDER TEENS (VIOLENCE, PARTIAL NUDITY, SEXUALITY)

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Happiness, Horror/Supernatural, Kodansha Comics, Shonen, Shuzo Oshimi, Vampires

Manga Giveaway: Kodansha Comics Collection Winner

December 7, 2016 by Ash Brown

Happiness, Volume 1Nekogahara: Stray Cat Samurai, Volume 1
The Prince in His Dark Days, Volume 1Welcome to the Ballroom, Volume 1

And the winner of the Kodansha Comics Collection manga giveaway is… Amaya!

As the winner, Amaya will be receiving not one but four of Kodansha Comics print debuts from 2016: Shuzo Oshimi’s Happiness, Hiroyuki Takei’s Nekogahara: Stray Cat Samurai, Hico Yamanaka’s The Prince in His Dark Days, and Tomo Takeuchi’s Welcome to the Ballroom. As I was reflecting back on the manga of 2016, I found that I was particularly impressed by the increased variety in Kodansha Comics titles. And so, for this giveaway, I asked that participants tell me about their favorite 2016 Kodansha Comics manga, debuts or otherwise. Akiko Higashimura’s Princess Jellyfish seems to have garnered the most love and attention, but be sure to check out the giveaway comments for everyone’s excitement over all of the great manga released by Kodansha Comics this year!

Kodansha Comics 2016 print debuts:
Attack on Titan: Lost Girls written by Koji Seko, illustrated by Ryosuke Fuji.
Attack on Titan Coloring Book by Hajime Isayama
Attack on Titan Anthology edited by Ben Applegate and Jeanine Schaefer
Cells at Work by Akane Shimizu
Complex Age by Yui Sakuma
Fairy Tail: Twin Dragons of Saber Tooth by Kyouta Shibano
Fairy Tail: Zero by Hiro Mashima
Fire Force by Atsushi Ohkubo
Forget Me Not written by Mag Hsu, illustrated by Nao Emoto
The Ghost and the Lady by Kazuhiro Fujita
Happiness by Shuzo Oshimi
In/Spectre by Chashiba Katase
Interviews with Monster Girls by Petos
Maga-Tsuki by Hoshino Taguchi
Nekogahara: Stray Cat Samurai by Hiroyuki Takei
Neo Parasyte F by Various
Paradise Residence by Kosuke Fujishima
Persona Q: Shadow of the Labyrinth, Side: P3 by So Tobita
Persona Q: Shadow of the Labyrinth, Side: P4 by Mizunomoto
The Prince in His Dark Days by Hiko Yamanaka
Princess Jellyfish by Akiko Higashimura
Queen Emeraldas by Leiji Matsumoto
Real Account written by Okushou, illustrated by Shizumu Watanabe
Spoof on Titan by Hounori
Sweetness and Lightning by Gido Amagakure
That Wolf-Boy is Mine! by Yoko Nogiri
Welcome to the Ballroom by Tomo Takeuchi

As always, thank you to everyone who took the time to participate in the giveaway and for sharing your favorite Kodansha Comics manga with me. 2016 was a great year for manga and 2017 looks like it should be pretty darn good, too. But before we get to that, I hope to see you again for this year’s last giveaway!

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Save

Filed Under: Giveaways, UNSHELVED Tagged With: Happiness, Hico Yamanaka, Hiroyuki Takei, manga, Nekogahara, Prince in His Dark Days, Shuzo Oshimi, Tomo Takeuchi, welcome to the ballroom

Manga Giveaway: Kodansha Comics Collection Giveaway

November 30, 2016 by Ash Brown

Both the last Wednesday and the last day of November has arrived, so it is once again time for a giveaway at Experiments in Manga! Last week was Thanksgiving in the States which happens to be my favorite holiday. (I really enjoy the delicious food and spending time with my family. The extra sleep helps, too.) As is now tradition, I like the giveaways for November to involve a whole feast of manga in order to celebrate. This year you all have the chance to win four first volumes of manga released in English by Kodansha Comics in 2016: Shuzo Oshimi’s Happiness, Hiroyuki Takei’s Nekogahara: Stray Cat Samurai, Hico Yamanaka’s The Prince in His Dark Days, and Tomo Takeuchi’s Welcome to the Ballroom. And, as always, the giveaway is open worldwide!

Happiness, Volume 1Nekogahara: Stray Cat Samurai, Volume 1The Prince in His Dark Days, Volume 1Welcome to the Ballroom, Volume 1

As the end of 2016 steadily approaches I’m starting to think about the manga published in the last year that I found particularly notable. Inevitably, I’m asked what my favorite manga is and I generally try to get away with mentioning a single publisher rather than a single title. This year, I’ve especially been impressed by the manga that Kodansha Comics has been licensing and releasing. Over the last few years Kodansha has been successfully expanding its catalog and demographic reach, offering titles that were at one point rumored to either be unliscensable or otherwise highly risky. Josei? Kodansha has it. Classic manga? Kodansha has it. Sports manga? Kodansha has it. Food manga? Kodansha has that, too. In fact, some of my most anticipated manga releases for 2016 were published by Kodansha Comics and looking forward to 2017 it seems as though that will likely be the case next year, too.

So, you may be wondering, how can you win a collection of Kodansha Comics?

1) In the comments below, tell me a little about a manga released by Kodansha Comics in 2016 that you particularly enjoyed and what you liked about it. (If you haven’t read or enjoyed any, simply mention that instead.)
2) If you’re on Twitter, you can earn a bonus entry by tweeting, or retweeting, about the contest. Make sure to include a link to this post and @PhoenixTerran (that’s me).

And there you have it! Participants in the giveaway have one week to submit comments and can earn up to two entries. If needed or preferred, comments can also be submitted directly to phoenixterran(at)gmail(dot)com and I will then post them here in your name. The giveaway winner will be randomly selected and announced on December 7, 2016. Good luck!

VERY IMPORTANT: Include some way that I can contact you. This can be an e-mail address in the comment form, a link to your website, Twitter username, or whatever. If I can’t figure out how to get a hold of you and you win, I’ll just draw another name.

Contest winner announced–Manga Giveaway: Kodansha Comics Collection Winner

Save

Filed Under: FEATURES, Giveaways Tagged With: Happiness, Hico Yamanaka, Hiroyuki Takei, manga, Nekogahara, Prince in His Dark Days, Shuzo Oshimi, Tomo Takeuchi, welcome to the ballroom

My Week in Manga: November 14-November 20, 2016

November 21, 2016 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

Nothing except the usual My Week in Manga feature was posted last week at Experiments in Manga. I was hoping to have my random musings on Ichigo Takano’s Orange ready for November, but the month has been particularly stressful and energy-draining so at this point it looks as though December will be far more likely. Hopefully, I’ll have an in-depth feature of some sort to share soon. I also have my list of notable release from 2016 to work on, too!

There is one thing from last week that I’m very excited for–the most recent Sparkler Monthly Kickstarter! The campaign is raising funds to support the print edition of Heldrad’s highly-amusing send-up to shoujo manga Orange Junk. I greatly enjoyed the first volume of Orange Junk, which I’ve previously reviewed, but the series gets even better as it goes along. Never read any of Orange Junk? Give it a try over at Sparkler Monthly and if you like what you see please consider contributing to the Kickstarter!

Quick Takes

Ajin: Demi-Human, Volume 3Ajin: Demi-Human, Volumes 3-8 by Gamon Sakurai. For a variety of reasons, while I’ve continued to stockpile Ajin, I’ve been rather lax when it some to actually reading the manga. The eighth and latest volume in English was released relatively recently, so I figured it was probably about time that I finally got around to catching up with the series. In retrospect, I’m actually kind of glad that I had a whole stack of Ajin to read all at once. The manga generally tends to be very quickly paced so it was nice to be able to move directly from one volume to the next in succession. Ajin is best, both in art and in storytelling, when there’s action going on. Sakurai’s fight sequences are tremendously dynamic and exciting. The use of the demi-humans’ immortality and black ghosts can actually be quite clever at times, too. While the series continues to be exceptionally violent and brutal, it doesn’t seem to be as gruesome and grotesque as it once was when the demi-humans were shown to be the subjects of live experimentation. The story can be a little heavy-handed, especially when it comes to government corruption and the revelation of everyone’s tragic backstories, but the psychological elements do tend to be handled well in spite of this.

Happiness, Volume 1Happiness, Volume 1 by Shuzo Oshimi. I’m not especially interested in vampires and they seem to have been so overdone lately that there often has to be some sort of extra impetus for me to actually pick up a vampire manga. In the case of Happiness, the additional push that was needed came from the fact that Oshimi is also the creator of The Flowers of Evil, a manga series which left a pretty big impression on me. Oshimi is incredibly skilled at establishing the mood and atmosphere of a series. Happiness is about Okazaki, a bullied high school student who survives being attacked by a vampire only to become one himself. The pacing of Happiness is leisurely, showing only the first few days of Okazaki’s new existence as he struggles to adjust to his emerging symptoms. Given how the first volume unfolds, Okazaki’s descent into vampirism can easily be read as a metaphor for puberty and sexual awakening; it will be interesting to see if the manga continues in that direction. Happiness has an underlying sense of eroticism mixed in with its horror which, at least in my opinion, is exactly how a vampire story ought to be. There is also a fair amount of angst in the manga, something that I’ve come to expect from Oshimi’s work.

Kitaro, Volume 2: Kitaro Meets NurarihyonKitaro, Volume 2: Kitaro Meets Nurarihyon by Shigeru Mizuki. I am still absolutely thrilled that more of Mizuki’s Kitaro manga is being released in English. However, I was a little sad that the second volume of Drawn & Quarterly’s new series didn’t include the same sort of bonus activities that were present in the first. Those were fun. But then again, Kitaro Meets Nurarihyon is plenty of fun in and of itself. In addition to an opening essay and a closing set of yokai files by the series’ translator Zack Davisson,  the volume collects seven of Mizuki’s short Kitaro manga, most of which are from the latter part of the 1960s although one is from the late 1970s. Generally when I think of yokai, I think of traditional Japanese folklore. However, the term can also be applied more broadly. In Kitaro, Mizuki doesn’t limit himself and incorporates mythology, urban legends, and popular culture from both within and outside of Japan. For example, in Kitaro Meets Nurarihyon, a descendant of Dracula plays a very important role in one of the stories. Sometimes the results are more cohesive than others, but I particularly enjoy and find it interesting how Mizuki is able to meld seemingly disparate elements and traditions together.

Nekogahara: Stray Cat Samurai, Volume 1Nekogahara: Stray Cat Samurai, Volume 1 by Hiroyuki Takei. Best known as the creator of Shaman King (which I somewhat surprisingly haven’t actually read yet), one of Takei’s most recent manga series is Nekogahara. Story-wise, it’s a fairly familiar tale of a ronin wandering the country, doing good deeds while trying to outrun past tragedies. There are numerous manga, novels, anime, and film that follow a similar premise. What makes Nekogahara stand out from all of those is that all of the principal players are literally cats. Granted, they’re cats dressed in kimono, carrying swords, and so on. Humans exist in Nekogahara, too, more or less as the daimyo, though they are generally discussed rather than seen. The lead of Nekogahara is Norachiyo, a scarred tom who was once a kept cat but who is now living his life as a stray. He is an extremely capable fighter and legend has it that he once even killed a person. Both the story and the visuals of Nekogahara rely on chanbara tropes. The actual flow of movement and action can sometimes be difficult to discern, but overall the artwork and character designs are rather stylish. Nekogahara is played fairly straight, but the characters’ more cat-like behaviors do bring levity to the manga.

The Black Cat Takes a Stroll: The Edgar Allan Poe LecturesThe Black Cat Takes a Stroll: The Edgar Allan Poe Lectures by Akimaro Mori. Bento Books doesn’t release very many titles, but the publisher’s books tend to be interesting so I make a point to keep an eye out for them. The Black Cat Takes a Stroll is one of Bento Books most recent releases. In addition to being the first volume in Mori’s Black Cat series, it was also the winner of Japan’s inaugural Agatha Christie Award for mystery fiction. The book collects six largely episodic but related short stories featuring the Black Cat, a young but respected professor specializing in aesthetic truth, told from the perspective of his personal assistant, a female graduate student whose research focuses on Edgar Allan Poe. I really wanted to like The Black Cat Takes a Stroll more than I actually did. I love the series’ basic concept and all of the literary and cultural references found in the stories. Sadly, the mysteries come across as trying too hard to be intellectual or overly academic and their solutions are frequently convoluted and coincidental. In addition to that, despite having a few charming and endearing quirks (such as his fondness for strawberry parfaits), the Black Cat tends to be infuriating more than anything else, misusing his intelligence in a way that is deliberately cryptic and intentionally manipulative of both the narrator and readers.

Filed Under: FEATURES, My Week in Manga Tagged With: Ajin, Akimaro Mori, black cat, Gamon Sakurai, Happiness, Hiroyuki Takei, Kitaro, manga, Nekogahara, Shigeru Mizuki, Shuzo Oshimi

My Week in Manga: October 27-November 2, 2014

November 3, 2014 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

October is finally over, and I somehow managed to survive! I’ve been extremely busy at work which bled over into the rest of my life and has interfered with a lot of things that I would otherwise rather be doing. I’m really hoping that my stress levels and schedule settle down a bit in November, but my immediate supervisor is retiring in December and I’ll be taking on some more responsibilities in my unit (at least temporarily), so we’ll see how that goes! Anyway, I was somehow able to keep on top of my posts here at Experiments in Manga. The most recent manga giveaway is currently in progress and there’s still time to enter for a chance to win Sherlock Bones, Volume 1. Since this past Friday was Hallowe’en, I decided it would be appropriate to review Junji Ito’s manga Uzumaki: Spiral into Horror. It’s been deservedly called a masterpiece, and the deluxe omnibus edition is especially nice. And over the weekend, I posted October’s Bookshelf Overload for those of you interested in what made it onto my bookshelves last month. I’m sure there was plenty of interesting reading to be found online, but I’m afraid I’ve been so busy I haven’t been able to pay much attention recently. Let me know if I missed something particularly good!

Quick Takes

Angel Sanctuary, Volume 1Angel Sanctuary, Volumes 1-5 by Kaori Yuki. It’s pretty clear after reading the first few volumes of Angel Sanctuary that this manga is going to be epic, for better or for worse. Angel Sanctuary has a huge cast (most with multiple names and multiple identities) and easily enough material for several completely different and unrelated series. So much is crammed into the early volumes that I’m afraid that Yuki might be trying to do too much at once with the manga. Though he is initially unaware of it, Setsuna is the reincarnation of the angel Alexiel, fated to suffer for her past deeds life after life. This causes significant problems for him–other angels and demons are searching for Alexiel,  some to reawaken her soul and some to completely destroy her. But even more problematic is Setsuna’s incestuous love for his younger sister Sara. So far the story is somewhat confusing and difficult to follow, albeit with moments of brilliance. However, I do consistently enjoy Yuki’s gothic artwork, tragic melodrama, and gender play. Many of Yuki’s angels also happen to be sexist assholes, completely capable of murder, deception, and greed, which is certainly an interesting take on the celestial beings.

The Flowers of Evil, Volume 10The Flowers of Evil, Volumes 10-11 by Shuzo Oshimi. Several years have passed since the incident in Kasuga’s hometown and his tumultuous relationship with Nakamura. The time has now come for him to face everything that he has done in his past and to confront how his actions have affected the people in his life–his family, his former classmates, his girlfriend, and most importantly himself. Up until now, he has been unable to move on with his life. His past, though he tries to hide it or run away from it, still defines who he is. The finale of The Flowers of Evil is a very effective exploration of personal identity and responsibility. Oshimi’s artwork, while never awful, has improved tremendously since the beginning of the series. This is particularly important for the last two volumes of The Flowers of Evil since large portions of the manga are completely without dialogue or narration; the art must be strong enough to carry the story entirely on its own, and it succeeds in that. The Flowers of Evil is a surprising series, ending with a very different tone and in a very different place than where it first began. It was quite a journey and it was worth every page.

Free!: Eternal SummerFree!: Eternal Summer directed by Hiroko Utsumi. I rather enjoyed the first season of Free! and was pleasantly surprised to discover that in addition to its goofiness the anime series actually had some substance to it. And so I was looking forward to watching its second season, Eternal Summer. A lot of the humor and drama in the second season comes from the introduction of several new characters. It was a little strange to have best friends suddenly appear when I’m pretty sure they weren’t even hinted at in the first season, but I ended up really liking the additions to the cast. Although most of the characters see some development, most striking is how much Rin has changed from the first season. His anger and angst is mostly gone and he’s become fairly chill, although he’s still very passionate about swimming. It’s a passion that he shares with the other swimmers in the anime, but each has his own approach and way of expressing it. They really don’t always make the best, wisest, or most mature decisions, though. (Not that I would expect that teenagers would.) Driving the narrative of Eternal Summer is the characters’ struggles and searches for their dreams and futures. The season provided a very satisfying conclusion to Free!.

Filed Under: FEATURES, My Week in Manga Tagged With: angel sanctuary, anime, Flowers of Evil, Free, Kaori Yuki, manga, Shuzo Oshimi

My Week in Manga: April 28-May 4, 2014

May 5, 2014 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

I was in Texas for much of last week, attending a conference for work, but I was still able post a few things here at Experiments in Manga. The most recent manga giveaway is underway, for one. This month you all have a chance to win the first omnibus of Hiromu Arakawa’s Fullmetal Alchemist. All you have to do is tell me a little about some of your favorite women mangaka. April’s Bookshelf Overload was also posted; there were all sorts of great releases last month. And finally, the first in-depth manga review of May goes to the very recently released Vinland Saga, Omnibus 3 by Makoto Yukimura. Vinland Saga is one of my favorite series currently being published in English. The entire series is epic and third omnibus is awesome.

Because I was traveling and caught up in conference goings-on, I may have missed some news. (If there’s something that caught your interest last week, do let me know!) However, I did come across a few things that made for good reading. I particularly enjoyed Tony Yao’s post at Manga Therapy, The Ambiguously Amazing Hange Zoe which discusses things like Attack on Titan, gender, and ambiguity. I recently reviewed Jen Lee Quick’s Off*Beat, Volume 2 in preparation for the release of the third and final volume. The series’ editor Lillian Diaz-Przybyl offers some Editorial Thoughts on the End of Off*Beat, one of Chromatic Press’ flagship titles. RocketNews24 offers a list of the twenty most popular manga in Japan, based on publication numbers. Justin Stroman interviews Eric Eberhardt (Viz Media’s Director of Digital Publishing) about Viz’s new digital imprint VIZ Select.

And for those of you in the Toronto area next week and weekend, do be sure to check out the Toronto Comic Arts Festival! There will be some phenomenal programming and incredible creators in attendance (including Moyoco Anno, Est Em, and Akira Himekawa among many, many more), and it’s free! TCAF is the only comic festival/conference that I go to and I highly, highly recommend it.

Quick Takes

Constellations in My PalmConstellations in My Palm written by Chisako Sakuragi and illustrated by Yukine Honami. I happen to really enjoy Honami’s artwork–a somewhat softer style with light but expressive lines–so I’ve slowly been getting around to reading the various boys’ love manga that she’s worked on. As far as I know, Constellations in My Palm is the only manga that Sakuragi has written. It’s a fairly realistic romance and tends to be somewhat quiet and subdued. It’s narrated by Mizuho, a college student, whose younger cousin Enji moves in with his family as he is about to start college, too. When they were younger they were very close, but it’s been seven years since they’ve been in contact with or seen each other. Mizuho and Enji both care about each other, but their relationship has become awkward and strained. Constellations in My Palm has some wonderful moments in it, but I was largely frustrated by the manga. So much of the story is driven by misunderstandings, and many of them aren’t even the result of miss-communication. Generally, it’s Mizuho who’s the culprit–even when he’s told something straight to his face, repeatedly, he simply can’t or chooses not to believe it. As Mizuho has some self-esteem issues this does fit his character, but it doesn’t make it any less exasperating.

The Flowers of Evil, Volume 7The Flowers of Evil, Volumes 7-9 by Shuzo Oshimi. I’ve been waiting for the entirety of the third arc of The Flowers of Evil to be released before reading it. I’m glad that I did, because once I started I didn’t want to put the manga down. After the resolution of the incident at the summer festival, there is a timeskip of three years. Kasuga and his family have moved to a different town in order to start over, but he is still haunted by his past. His relationship with his parents is broken and almost nonexistent. His new classmates tolerate him, but he remains distant and disconnected (and understandably so). But then he meets and, despite his weirdness and strange behavior, is befriended by Tokiwa–a popular and attractive girl whom all of the boys have a crush on. Like Kasuga, she’s hiding parts of herself from others, too. On the surface, the third arc is almost tame when compared to what came before it, but it is still extremely effective. It has a very different sort of intensity than the previous arcs. The story has become more subtle but retains a constant undercurrent of dread. Even when good things happen it seems as though they could only possibly be a prelude to some sort of disaster. The Flowers of Evil is an incredibly engaging series and just keeps getting better and better.

Say I Love You, Volume 1Say I Love You, Volume 1 by Kanae Hazuki. I didn’t really know much about Say I Love You before reading the first volume; I was vaguely aware of the series because of its recent anime adaptation (which I haven’t seen yet), but that’s about it. There’s not really much of a “hook” per se in Say I Love You. The characters are fairly normal. The story isn’t particularly unusual. The the two leads are Mei Tachibana–who although she avoids making friends is very aware of others and their feelings–and Yamato Kurosawa–whose popularity stems from his good looks but who otherwise is extremely average. So far the manga is simply about a group of teenagers living out their high school years. This includes all of the cliques and the bullying, the stress caused by interpersonal relationships, the self-consciousness and the issues of self-esteem. But that realism is probably the series’ strength. Say I Love You has some humorous moments, but I wouldn’t really describe it as a comedy at this point since in general Hazuki takes a more serious approach with the series. I’m actually very curious to see how Mei and Yamato’s relationship continues to develop, as well as how the relationships between the other characters evolve as well.

Wolfsmund, Volume 3Wolfsmund, Volumes 3-4 by Mitsuhisa Kuji. At first Wolfsmund seemed to me as though it was going to be an episodic series, but with the third and fourth volumes the manga has focused in on an overarching narrative. However, the bleakness and brutality that has been present from the very start of Wolfsmund remains constant. These volumes see the beginning of the Swiss rebellion against the Austrian occupation and all of the violence and death that entails, including the incredible siege of the Wolf’s Maw at Sankt Gotthard Pass. The uprising has been in the planning stages for quite some time, but now the rebels finally have the opportunity to take action. 14th-century warfare is not pretty. There are very good reasons why attacking an overtaking a fortress are difficult tasks to accomplish–they are built to withstand assault and are designed to allow defenders to wreak havoc on invading forces and to cause tremendous amounts of damage. The rebels must face skilled soldiers, traps, fire, molten lead, boiling water, and more. And on top of that Wolfram, the bailiff of the Wolf’s Maw, is a vicious and sadistic leader who is not above torture. In fact, he seems to delight in it. Wolfsmund continues to be a dark and intense manga that is definitely meant for maturer audiences.

Filed Under: FEATURES, My Week in Manga Tagged With: Chisako Sakuragi, Flowers of Evil, Kanae Hazuki, manga, Mitsuhisa Kuji, Say I Love You, Shuzo Oshimi, Wolfsmund, Yukine Honami

My Week in Manga: October 22-October 28, 2012

October 29, 2012 by Ash Brown

My News and Reviews

Last week was the Vampire Manga Moveable Feast. As part of my contribution, I reviewed Vampire Hunter D, Volume 1–Saiko Takaki’s manga adaptation of Hideyuki Kikuchi’s novel of the same name. I still haven’t read the original Vampire Hunter D novels, but the manga adaptation of the series is starting to grow on me. Keeping with the vampire theme, I also reviewed Hideyuki Kikuchi’s vampire novel Yashakiden: The Demon Princess, Volume 3. There are parts of Yashakiden that I really enjoy but there are just as many parts that frustrate me immensely. Since there are only two more volumes in the English release, and I’ve already come this far, I’ll probably end up finishing the series at some point. Completely unrelated to vampires, but because it’s a graphic novel I wanted to mention it here: Over at my other blog, Experiments in Reading, I’ve posted a review of Mark Siegel’s Sailor Twain: Or, The Mermaid on the Hudson, which I quite enjoyed.

Quick Takes

Apocalypse Zero, Volumes 1-6 by Takayuki Yamaguchi. Unfortunately, only six of the eleven volumes of Apocalypse Zero were released in English. I can’t say that I’m surprised and I don’t expect that the license will ever be rescued–the series will appeal only to those with a strong constitution and who aren’t offended easily. It’s extremely graphic, bloody and violent. The imagery is deliberately repulsive, gloriously grotesque, and highly sexualized. Honestly, I feel a little dirty admitting that I loved Apocalypse Zero in all of its outrageousness, but I did. Yamaguchi does make use of a lot of standard tropes and cliches, but he takes them to such ridiculous, over-the-top extremes that they are almost unrecognizable.

Bunny Drop, Volumes 5-6 by Yumi Unita. With a ten year time skip, Bunny Drop has become an entirely different series. It’s not bad, but it has lost much of charm that made the first four volumes stand out. However, the character interactions are still great. The “new” Bunny Drop probably wouldn’t be a series that I would follow had I not already been invested its characters. It seems to have turned into a pretty typical high school drama. I did enjoy seeing the kids all grown up though, Rin and Kouki especially. Unfortunately, Daikichi, who has always been my favorite, has almost become a secondary character in these volumes (although, a very important one). I do still like Unita’s artwork and plan on finishing the last few volumes in the series.

The Drops of God: New World written by Tadashi Agi and illustrated by Shu Okimoto. It’s sad to say, but New World may very well be the last volume of The Drops of God to be published in English. At the request of the author, this omnibus (collecting volumes 22 and 23 of the original release) jumps ahead in the story to a point which features New World wines. As Shizuku heads to Australia and Issei heads to America in search of the seventh apostle, they both manage to get into some serious trouble. The plot might be a little ridiculous at times, but I still find The Drops of God to be entertaining and informative. Who knew the world of wine could be so dangerous?

The Flowers of Evil, Volumes 2-3 by Shuzo Oshimi. I really thought that I was through with middle school dramas, but then I started reading The Flowers of Evil. The series is exceedingly dark and ominous. I have a hard time looking away as the events unfold. I have no idea where Oshimi is going with this series and I’m almost afraid to find out. It’s intense, to say the least. The characters in The Flowers of Evil are so incredibly messed up. Even those who at first appear “normal” have some serious issues; it’s hard to tell what’s really going on in their heads. Kasuga is caught in this agonizing relationship between Saeki, the girl he idolizes, and Nakamura, the girl who torments him but from whom he can’t seem to break away.

Tonight’s Take-Out Night! by Akira Minazuki. A collection of three boys’ love stories, Tonight’s Take-Out Night is the first manga that I’ve read by Minazuki. While I enjoyed the stories, the high-contrast art style is what really caught my attention. The stories are short, so the development of the couples’ relationships has to happen fairly quickly. However, Minazuki’s characterizations are strong enough that they carry the stories fairly well. I liked the pairings and I liked their relationships which were mostly free of non-consensual elements. The first and third story are both good-natured and a little quirky. But the second story, with it’s period setting and supernatural twist, was my personal favorite.

JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Volumes 1-6 produced by Studio APPP. Technically, the JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure anime adaptation is two series. The last six episodes were released between 1993 and 1994 while the first seven were released between 2000 and 2002. I do prefer the manga over the anime, but the OVA series is an excellent adaptation. The anime strips the story down to it’s core. The humor and the horror elements of the original tend to be downplayed; the anime focuses mostly on the action and battles. This does mean that some of my favorite moments from the manga were cut, but all of the fights that are particularly important to plot and character development are included. No matter what the medium, I love JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure.

Filed Under: My Week in Manga Tagged With: Akira Minazuki, anime, Apocalypse Zero, bunny drop, Drops of God, Flowers of Evil, JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, manga, Shu Okimoto, Shuzo Oshimi, Tadashi Agi, Takayuki Yamaguchi, Yumi Unita

The Flowers of Evil, Vol. 2

July 10, 2012 by Katherine Dacey

Do you remember the first time you tried to impress someone on a date? I do: I was fifteen, and thrilled that an older boy had invited me to dinner. (He drove a Mazda two-seater and quoted lines from Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire, which, in 1988, made him a god.) My strategy for wooing him was to describe, in excruciating detail, the nuances of Igor Stravinsky’s Petrushka, from the opening tableau to the final notes. I was convinced that if he could see my passion for something as dark and powerful as that ballet, he’d understand who I really was, and fall in love with that person. (Needless to say, we didn’t go on a second date.)

Kasuga, the earnest hero of The Flowers of Evil, finds himself in a similar situation at the beginning of volume two: Saeki, the classmate whom he’s loved from afar, has finally consented to go on a date with him. As they wander the aisles of his favorite bookstore, Kasuga confesses to Saeki that Baudelaire’s Fleurs du Mal “changed how I see the world. I felt as though I’d been an ignorant fool my whole life.”  It’s a cringe-inducing moment — not because Saeki mocks Kasuga, or recoils from him, but because Kasuga has exposed himself in such a clumsy, sincere, and godawful manner.

That sincerity is nearly his undoing. Throughout the volume, Nakamura goads Kasuga about Saeki, reacting with fury when Kasuga asks Saeki to enter into a “pure, platonic relationship” with him: how dare he pretend to be normal? Nakamura then redoubles her efforts to reveal Kasuga’s “perversion,” currying favor with Saeki while pouring poison in Kasuga’s ear. But to what end? The final scene of the manga offers some interesting, and surprising, hints at Nakamura’s true agenda while suggesting that Kasuga might, in fact, have more in common with her than he’d care to admit. I won’t reveal what happens, but will venture to say that “orgiastic” is an apt description of those last glorious, frenzied pages.

Review copy provided by Vertical, Inc.

THE FLOWERS OF EVIL, VOL. 2 | BY SHUZO OSHIMI | VERTICAL, INC. | 168 pp.

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Flowers of Evil, Shonen, Shuzo Oshimi, vertical

The Flowers of Evil, Vol. 2

July 10, 2012 by Katherine Dacey 12 Comments

Do you remember the first time you tried to impress someone on a date? I do: I was fifteen, and thrilled that an older boy had invited me to dinner. (He drove a Mazda two-seater and quoted lines from Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire, which, in 1988, made him a god.) My strategy for wooing him was to describe, in excruciating detail, the nuances of Igor Stravinsky’s Petrushka, from the opening tableau to the final notes. I was convinced that if he could see my passion for something as dark and powerful as that ballet, he’d understand who I really was, and fall in love with that person. (Needless to say, we didn’t go on a second date.)

Kasuga, the earnest hero of The Flowers of Evil, finds himself in a similar situation at the beginning of volume two: Saeki, the classmate whom he’s loved from afar, has finally consented to go on a date with him. As they wander the aisles of his favorite bookstore, Kasuga confesses to Saeki that Baudelaire’s Fleurs du Mal “changed how I see the world. I felt as though I’d been an ignorant fool my whole life.”  It’s a cringe-inducing moment — not because Saeki mocks Kasuga, or recoils from him, but because Kasuga has exposed himself in such a clumsy, sincere, and godawful manner.

That sincerity is nearly his undoing. Throughout the volume, Nakamura goads Kasuga about Saeki, reacting with fury when Kasuga asks Saeki to enter into a “pure, platonic relationship” with him: how dare he pretend to be normal? Nakamura then redoubles her efforts to reveal Kasuga’s “perversion,” currying favor with Saeki while pouring poison in Kasuga’s ear. But to what end? The final scene of the manga offers some interesting, and surprising, hints at Nakamura’s true agenda while suggesting that Kasuga might, in fact, have more in common with her than he’d care to admit. I won’t reveal what happens, but will venture to say that “orgiastic” is an apt description of those last glorious, frenzied pages.

Review copy provided by Vertical, Inc.

THE FLOWERS OF EVIL, VOL. 2 | BY SHUZO OSHIMI | VERTICAL, INC. | 168 pp.

Filed Under: Manga Critic Tagged With: Flowers of Evil, Shonen, Shuzo Oshimi, vertical

Drifting Net Cafe, Vol. 1

June 19, 2012 by Katherine Dacey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Drifting Classroom, JManga, Kazuo Umezu, Seinen, Shuzo Oshimi

Drifting Net Cafe, Vol. 1

June 19, 2012 by Katherine Dacey 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Filed Under: Manga Critic Tagged With: Drifting Classroom, JManga, Kazuo Umezu, Seinen, Shuzo Oshimi

The Flowers of Evil, Vol. 1

May 9, 2012 by Katherine Dacey

If you grew up in a small town, you probably knew someone like Takao Kasuga, the nebbish-hero of The Flowers of Evil. Kasuga is a precocious middle-schooler who copes with provincial life by burying his nose in a book. His peers tolerate him, but find him a little too smug and strange to be one of the guys. Kasuga, for his part, takes pride in his sophisticated reading habits, stashing poems in his desk and telling his classmates that they’re too stupid to appreciate his favorite writer, Charles Baudelaire.

In a moment of impulse, Kasuga steals the gym outfit of beautiful classmate Nanako Saeki — an act witnessed by Sawa Nakamura, the class outcast. Nakamura confronts Kasuga after school, threatening to expose him as the thief unless he complies with her requests. Her motives for blackmailing Kasuga are complex, a mixture of prurient interest in Kasuga’s sexual fantasies and sadistic delight in wielding power over a boy. At times Nakamura  physically dominates him — she punches and tackles him — and at times she manipulates him with humiliating tasks and questions.

I’d be the first to admit that the similarities between Flowers of Evil and Sundome — however superficial — predisposed me to dislike the book. I didn’t think I had the stomach for another story in which a ball-busting girl sexually and psychologically tortured a sad-sack boy. Yet Flowers of Evil proved a far more compelling and honest look at adolescent sexuality than Sundome, thanks, in large part, to Shuzo Oshimi’s sympathetic portrayal of Kasuga.

Throughout the book, author Shuzo Oshimi hints that Kasuga’s character was inspired by his own experiences as a book-toting misfit. “I read Baudelaire’s Flowers of Evil for the first time in middle school,” he explains at the end of chapter one. “I didn’t understand much of it, but the book’s feel — suspicious, indecent, yet nastily noble — made me think, I’m so cool for reading it.” Kasuga, too, clearly feels a sense of superiority for having discovered Baudelaire at a young age; in a fit of self-pity, he muses, “How many people in this town understand Baudelaire?” At the same time, however, he’s keenly aware that his peers think he’s weird. Kasuga may be mature enough to appreciate Baudelaire — or perhaps, more accurately, to think he understands Baudelaire — but he isn’t quite old enough to shake off his classmates’ teasing.

Oshimi also does an exceptional job of dramatizing Kasuga’s inner sexual turmoil. Early in the book, for example, Kasuga catches sight of Saeki. In a flash, he pictures her clad in gym clothes, blushing and telling him, “I love you.” His acute embarrassment at being discovered mid-reverie is all the more palpable for the way in which he’s drawn: Kasuga sinks into his chair, his shoulders slumped, brows furrowed, and body foreshortened, making him look like a moist ragdoll. In later chapters, Oshimi uses surreal imagery — a wall of eyes, a fun-house mirror, a giant sink hole — to suggest that Kasuga’s normal teenage discomfort with sexual feelings has become something more powerful and destructive: shame.

If Kasuga is a sympathetic character, Nakamura poses greater difficulties for the reader. She claims her true agenda is to expose him as a pervert, but nothing about Kasuga’s behavior indicates that he is; if anything, Kasuga is naive, torn between romantic and sexual ideas about love. (That he calls Saeki “my muse, my femme fatale, my Venus” suggests the extent of his confusion.) Nakamura, too, appears to wrestling with complicated sexual feelings; in several scenes, she hints at her own predilections, only to accuse Kasuga of harboring even nastier ones. In short, Nakamura seems intent on finding someone more self-loathing and sexually confused than she is, yet her behavior is so violent and manipulative it sometimes feels as if Oshimi is trying too hard to suggest her disaffection; Nakamura’s character veers dangerously close to being a symbol of castration anxiety, rather than an emotionally damaged teenage girl.

That said, The Flowers of Evil is a shockingly readable story that vividly — one might even say queasily — evokes the fear and confusion of discovering one’s own sexuality. Recommended.

THE FLOWERS OF EVIL, VOL. 1 • BY SHUZO OSHIMI • VERTICAL, INC. • 202 pp. • NO RATING (BEST FOR OLDER TEENS)

Filed Under: Manga, Manga Critic, REVIEWS Tagged With: Flowers of Evil, Shonen, Shuzo Oshimi, vertical

 | Log in
Copyright © 2010 Manga Bookshelf | Powered by WordPress & the Genesis Framework