It’s probably unfair, but I can’t evaluate Clamp School Detectives for what it is without thinking about what it could be.
The manga, by the Clamp studio, is sort of a cross between Richie Rich and Charlie’s Angels. Three comically perfect male students at the prestigious Clamp School dabble in detective work, dedicating themselves to “damsels in distress.” (No, it isn’t a period piece.)
Their ringleader is wealthy, brilliant, dandyish Nokoru Imonoyama, a sixth-grader with a sixth sense for women in peril. Noroku, chair of Clamp’s elementary division (the equivalent of student body president), is joined by secretary Suoh Takamura, a serious and responsible martial arts expert, and treasurer Akira Ijyuin, guilelessly charming and unwaveringly loyal to his senior officers.
They’re at the top of a school meritocracy, which is fine, because they’re all gifted and basically decent, and their intentions are good. But their perfection – generally idealized students each with his own set of unique talents – is presented without any counterbalancing foibles. If the Clamp creative team would ever take the air out of their heroes, things might be a bit more interesting.
Predictably, female students at the school are presented as little more than a ravening group of devoted fans. As one of the detectives’ largely anonymous admirers says, “You couldn’t even find guys that perfect in shojo manga!” It’s one of the moments when things seem to be heading towards satire, as is a caption, “They’re feminists. Who’d have guessed?” But the satire never develops any teeth.
Take, for example, the feminist joke. They aren’t so much feminist as they are chivalrous, and while those two qualities aren’t mutually exclusive, they aren’t synonymous, either. The detectives don’t really want to empower women so much as protect them, a state of mind that’s portrayed without a trace of irony. (And the trio doesn’t express any romantic interest in their admirers; the throng is pretty much viewed as a flattering inconvenience.)
Then there are the clients, a fairly sketchily developed group of stereotypes. There’s the old lady clinging to her memories who has to be protected from any harsh realities. There’s the benevolent but mysterious school administrator who needs to be spared embarrassment. Chapter three offers the sad, beautiful schoolgirl who has lost her pet and cries in the school gardens instead of doing anything constructive, like looking for it.
Even when you think Clamp might be offering something different, things snap back into formula. In the fourth chapter, readers finally run across a Clamp schoolgirl who doesn’t squeal with glee at the sight of the detectives. If you think this might be the introduction of a smart female foil for the protagonists, or a rival to give them some perspective, think again. Her hostility is a mask for something much blander.
The first time I read through this manga, it seemed like glossy good fun. I guess it is, provided you keep your expectations fairly low. The illustrations are beautiful, and the stories are weightless but well-constructed. But every time Clamp steps towards something more complex, something with comic bite, they take two quick steps backwards. It’s somehow more frustrating than if the series didn’t have anything on its mind at all.
Maybe I’m over-analyzing things, or I’m just unfamiliar with the Clamp house style. Anyone have any insights or contradictory impressions that might help me pin down my thinking?