Otaku, No Video

House of Five Leaves © Natsume Ono, Viz, Shogakukan, Viz Media

Artist/Writer: Natsume Ono

Published in: 2006–2010 (Japan), 2010–present (America)

American Publisher: Viz Media

Genres: Seinen, drama, slice-of-life

Volumes: 7, still being released in America

What about volume 1? See my previous review.

What’s the premise? Akitsu Masanosuke, our timid samurai protagonist, has fallen ill and is being tended by Goinkyo. We learn more about Goinkyo and several other characters’ backstories, which sheds some light on the origins of the Five Leaves. Anything further would be spoilers.

Does it still look weird? Yeah, even more so than in volume 1.

The atmosphere in this volume is even more quiet than the earlier one, as Akitsu remains bed-ridden for most of the volume. This allows the storyline with Goinkyo and others to blossom.

Is it confusing? The plot itself is clear, but the characters use a lot of nicknames. I had some trouble keeping track of them at several points.

Can I show it to my Mom? Sure. She might like the odd art and colorful cast.

Can I show it to my kid brother? Yep, but it probably wouldn’t do much for him. Lots of talking.

Can I show it to a non-manga fan? It’s quirky enough–and so Japanese–that this will be a crap shoot. It does look something like an indie comic, though.

Does it have any memorable moments? Several. The story involving Goinkyo’s back story, and how that relates to several other characters, creates a tense, dark plot. The payoff satisfied my sense of justice, while remaining ambiguous enough to keep me thinking about the ethics of it all.

Availability: Easily available on sites like Amazon and RightStuf.

House of Five Leaves © Natsume Ono, Viz, Shogakukan, Viz Media

Artist/Writer: Natsume Ono

Published in: 2006–2010 (Japan), 2010–present (America)

American Publisher: Viz Media

Genres: Seinen, drama, slice-of-life

Volumes: 7, still being released in America

What’s the premise? This first volume centers on Akitsu Masanosuke, a timid samurai ronin (ronin meaning a samurai without a lord, who takes whatever work he can find). The phrase “timid samurai” should be a contradiction of terms; the rigors of samurai training should burn timidity out of anyone. Akitsu’s timidity is mostly introversion. He’s uncomfortable around other people, and doesn’t like to make a fuss, which makes it very difficult for him to find work.

Without spoiling the plot, Akitsu gets involved with some sketchy characters, particularly a laid-back swordsman named Yaichi, and finds himself unable to extricate himself from their company. He’s stuck.

What’s the theme? Being stuck, actually.

What’s the tone? It strikes an unusual balance between slice-of-life conversation and comedy, while a melancholic mood pervades the entire volume. Akitsu is going through an existential crisis: his career has stalled. I suspect this is one of its attractions for modern readers. Should he pursue another line of work? Or is that giving up?

Is it boring? It can be; it’s certainly not a shonen action title. There’s only one real action sequence in the manga, which lasts barely two pages. It’s quiet and thoughtful.

What’s the art style like? Weird. Often sketchy, with minimal details and bizarre camera angles. It works, though I occasionally had to read a page two or three times to understand it. Also, the word balloons have tiny tails, so I sometimes had to re-read (or read very closely) to figure out who was talking.

Can I show it to my Mom? Sure. She might like the odd art and colorful cast.

Can I show it to my kid brother? Yep, but it probably wouldn’t do much for him. Lots of talking.

Can I show it to a non-manga fan? It’s quirky enough–and so Japanese–that this will be a crap shoot. It does look something like an indie comic, though.

Does it have any memorable moments? Several, particularly involving Yaichi. He’s an enigmatic yet likable man. That’s hard to do.

Availability: Easily available on sites like Amazon and RightStuf.

© Keiji Nakazawa, Last Gasp

Artist/Writer: Keiji Nakazawa

Published in: 1973–1985 (Japan), 2004–2010 (America)

American Publisher: Last Gasp

Genres: Shounen, war, documentary

Premise: Gen is a young boy unlucky enough to live in Hiroshima in 1945. And the bomb drops.

Show x Show: It’s Grave of the Fireflies meets Maus

Volumes: 10

What’s it about? It’s primarily an anti-war story, focusing on the trials of working-class Japanese families during World War II. The bomb doesn’t drop until the very end of the book, so the book focuses mostly on pro-war and anti-war sentiment among working-class people during World War II.

How obvious are the themes? Very. This isn’t subtle, to the point that it feels almost like the diametric opposite of Japanese pro-war propaganda. Pro-war characters are closed-minded and evil, while the protagonist’s family is righteous and just trying to live in peace. Granted, Gen was published in Shonen Jump in the 1970′s (more on that later), so one shouldn’t expect delicate subtlety.

What’s the plot? Gen’s father takes a strongly anti-war stance, and the family suffers for it with hazings, unfavorable business deals, etc. Meanwhile, Gen’s older brother goes off to war and discovers that the reality isn’t nearly as honorable as he thought. Gen and his younger brother just try to cheer everyone up.

What does the art look like? Very, very 1970′s. This is the era of the gekiga movement, where cartoony art was used to tell dark, horrifying stories in the name of ”realism.” However, there are still strong shonen elements, so for example, boys get bonked on the head when they say stupid things. The juxtaposition just doesn’t feel right, though that could be a jaded future talking. I’m used to serious war comics like Maus.

Can I show it to my Mom? Sure.

Can I show it to my kid brother? It’s probably too intense for him.

Can I show it to a non-manga fan? Yes; in fact I think this might appeal more to non-fans than regular manga readers. The art has an indie comics feel.

How’s the dialogue? Impressively, each character has a distinct way of speaking. That said, this is a shonen title, so there’s a lot of moralizing and speeches.

Does it have any memorable moments? Plenty, particularly at the end of the book. This is mostly a story of everyday cruelty, though.

Availability: The entire thing has been released in English by Last Gasp, and can easily be found on sites like Amazon and RightStuf.

Bunny Drop, volume 3

Bunny Drop, volume 3 © Yumi Unita, Kodansha, Yen Press

Artist/Writer: Yumi Unita

Published in: 2005–2011 (Japan), 2010–present (America)

American Publisher: Yen Press

Genres: Josei, domestic dramedy

Premise: 30-year-old Daikichi adopts 6-year-old illegitimate family member Rin. In this volume, Rin continues to grow up as she attends school.

Volumes: 9, still being released in America

What’s it about? Raising a young child.

What’s new in this volume? Rin is growing up, and this is explicitly contrasted with what she was like in volume 1. She’s much more normalized now, happy and able to socialize.

What happens? Not much, really. We move a little further into dealing with Rin’s past, especially with Rin’s, er, paternal father.

Is it boring? No, because this is a more elegiac volume, dealing with metaphor and more abstract themes about growing up. Also, this volume feels like build-up.

Can I show it to my Mom? Sure.

Can I show it to my kid brother? Yep.

Can I show it to a non-manga fan? Please do. This is a perfect manga for non-fans, though you’d probably want to start with volume 1.

How’s the comedy? This has fewer goofy moments than earlier volumes, mainly because of that quiet, almost reminiscent feel to the story.

Does it have any memorable moments? Several.

Availability: Easily available on sites like Amazon and RightStuf.

Ax volume 1 cover

There’s a heck of a lot more to manga than magical girls, horror, and sports. There’s a whole underground scene in manga, as weird as anything R. Crumb ever put to paper.

We English-readers get a glimpse into that world with the first volume of Ax, an anthology of short manga pieces published in the experimental/alternative manga magazine of the same name. The roster of talent varies from Yoshihiro Tatsumi (whose autobiographical A Drifting Life made such waves last year) to folks I’ve never heard of.

Ax is for experimenters. The art is often crude, sex frequent, and many of the stories don’t seem to go anywhere.

But it’s different, and that’s the point.

I’ve been trying to analyze this book for weeks now, and I haven’t found a way to do it. It can’t be summarized; the stories and art styles are too different. I can’t review each story; there are three dozen of them, and the individual reviews would become repetitive.

But then, a collection like this thrives partly on its surprises, on many small doses of bizarre and thought-provoking images.

Is this volume deep? Each story is insufficiently long to really dive deeply into any one subject or character. A few stories stand out for psychological interest: Yoshihiro Tatsumi’s “Love’s Bride” and Katsuo Kawai’s “Push Pin Woman” explore the sad pitfalls of romantic relationships in completely different ways. But what to say about Namie Fujieda’s “The Brilliant Ones,” a story of a student who one day explodes into wriggling worms, drawn in a style that wouldn’t look out of place in Shonen Jump? Or Mitsuhiko Yoshida’s straight fairy tale adaptation of ”The Hare and the Tortoise?”

So I come back to the concept of surprise. Ax is full of strange art styles and unexpected plot twists. And that’s okay with me.

The Push Man and Other Stories © Yoshihiro Tatsumi

Yoshihiro Tatsumi’s been drawing manga for decades, but he got his big break in America a few years ago with A Drifting Life, especially after it won two Eisner awards in 2010. America is now getting more of his works, including this collection.

The Push Man and Other Stories is a collection of short manga stories, most of them 11 pages long, all written and drawn by Tatsumin in the 1960′s. Each is a modern, realistic story about ordinary people dealing with blue collar lives.

The artwork features simple, clean character designs and rich, detailed backgrounds. The contrast is sometimes striking, and is a wonderful metaphor for the stories themselves. The characters are typically simple people living in complex situations.

My primary complaint lies in Tatsumi’s story structure. Most of the stories end abruptly, as if we’re missing a final page or two. Moreover, the climaxes aren’t merely open-ended; there are often no climaxes at all. Each story is a glimpse into a character’s life, with no sense of drama.

Perhaps this was Tatsumi’s intent, but I had to ask: why these moments? It’s the manga equivalent of a movie that just films people exiting a train. Sure, one can fantasize about the lives of each individual as they stride or stumble or walk or run, but that’s all the film lets you do.

FictionThatMatters’ review points to two recurring themes in The Push Man: powerlessness and isolation. Those certainly appear, as does an overpowering sense of displacement. The characters just don’t know who they are or what they should be doing. Moreover, their actions seem pointless: statements against power are quickly reversed.

If you can get past the fundamentally anti-narrative, non-structured nature of the stories, you’ll find a manga that desperately rages against an apparently implacable society. Definitely interesting.

© Peach-Pit, Kodansha

Artist/Writer: Peach-Pit

Published in: 1996–2000 (Japan), 2007–present (America)

American Publisher: Del Rey

Genres: Shoujo, magical girl

Premise: Amu has trouble being herself, and finds 3 eggs which hatch into SD versions of who she wants to be

Show x Show: It’s Cardcaptor Sakura meets Imadoki!

Volumes: 12, still being released in America

What’s it about? Early adolescence, and its changes: personality changes, body changes, and blossoming romance.

How obvious are the themes? Very. The little SD versions of Amu (her “Guardian Characters”) are precise metaphors for the kinds of person she wants to be: cheerful and energetic, thoughtful and artistic, etc. She can even transform into full-size versions of these. Amu thinks about how to ”be herself” a lot.

Then again, this is a manga for tween girls, so tremendous subtlety would be bad.

Is there a plot? Yes! Amu’s school has an elite student council, all of whom just happen to have their own eggs and their own Guardian Characters. Meanwhile, a hunt is afoot for a special egg, led by mysterious individuals who, well, create various problems.

How do the characters look? Cute. Everyone here is in elementary school, so cuteness abounds as it should.

How about the art in general? There is a lot of screen tone in this series. Moreover, the manga-ka zooms in and out on panels to an almost schizophrenic degree, which left me dizzy and disoriented at times. Granted, this is probably out of a desire to keep kids’ interest, but it was way too busy for me.  Combined with the screen tone, the panels are sometimes crowded and confusingly laid out.

© Peach-Pit, Kodansha

Is this one of those manga with sexy elementary school students? No, though the outfits are occasionally a little daring for kids this age. The image on the right, for example, is one of Amu’s transformation outfits.

There are also some sexual allusions in the dialogue in volume 2, to my surprise. On reflection, though, this is the story of an adolescent girl falling for several guys, and girls in Japan sure seem to be aware of sexuality.

The series studiously avoids prurience, at least.

Are the relationships stupid? They’re pretty basic, but props to Peach-Pit: Amu has feelings for both the princely leader and the rogue antagonist, and both relationships have strong reasons for being.

Can I show it to my Mom? Sure.

Can I show it to my kid brother? Nah, too girly.

Can I show it to a non-manga fan? Gender will decide on this one. There are enough girly elements that I think it’ll appeal mostly to girls–and smarter girls at that. Boys might get into it.

How’s the dialogue? No problems, though it can be a little drab. The main characters do have distinctive voices (helped by their SD versions).

How’s the comedy? There’s a lot of comedy, more so than in most shoujo I’ve read. Most of Amu’s interactions with her Guardian Characters–at least in these volumes–involves her frustration with them, and comical situations in which they go against her wishes. Which, sure, is part of their purpose: to shake Amu up.

Does it have any memorable moments? Nothing comes to me as I write this review. The story flows along.

Availability: Del Rey has published nearly all of the manga in America, and the published volumes are readily available on sites like Amazon and RightStuf. Crunchyroll currently streams the anime adaptation.

To be frank, Ikigami is most remarkable for its premise: A certain Asian country has instituted a public program of injections for every child; one in 100,000 will painlessly fall over dead during early adulthood.  Moreover, the government keeps records and notifies the victim and his or her family exactly 24 hours before the projected time of death. The stated purpose is to instill in every citizen a fear of death, which encourages them to live every day to its fullest.

(There’s also a creepy “thought crime” element to this society: anyone who disagrees with this philosophy is immediately carted away and never seen again.)

Yes, the premise is ridiculous. This would never happen. And unfortunately, a lot of this volume’s pages are spent defending the injection program to the reader, explaining how citizens’ records are kept separate to avoid bias, etc.  This may be important for later plot development, but there was too much of it for me in this volume. I’d rather the program just exist and get on with the story.

Fortunately, the injection program is not the plot’s focus; Ikigami uses its premise to tell anthology stories about one particular government official and his, well, “victims” for lack of a better term. The manga asks the question: given the pressures on you, what would you do if you knew you only had 24 hours left to live? Every 100 pages or so of this manga tell the story of one individual’s last day on Earth.

These stories are told in an often-dramatic fashion; I found a lot of dramatic camera angles and close-ups that felt far more intense than the actual situation demanded. It’s as though Motoro Mase, the artist, was trying to stir up the reader’s emotions for mundane stories.

Moreover, Masa uses a fairly small range of distinctive character design elements, so at some points I had a tough time tracking who was who.

Nevertheless, Masa’s character stories progress at an impressively steady pace; action sequences are clear and easy to parse, and information comes at you at just the right pace to be easily absorbed. Excepting the long sequences explaining the injection program, of course.

One nice thing about Ikigami‘s premise is that it changes nothing about each victim’s life. Nobody gets a huge pile of cash or a gun. Moreover, a…dramatic exit will leave behind quite a mess for the victim’s family. So most victims don’t end up wallowing in hookers and blow. They focus on their actual lives and their legacy.

Overall, I felt that Ikigami needs a few volumes to settle itself into its plot. It feels like Masa is exploring his premise here, and that future volumes are more likely to fully satisfy the reader. This first volume satisfied me, though.

(Interestingly, Tomoyuki Takimoto directed a live-action film adaptation of Ikigami, which was released in 2008. I wonder how it’s structured.)