License request day: Gaku

With Valentine’s Day around the corner, I should request something in a romantic vein, but I’m just not in the right groove. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve spent most of the week catching up on Osamu Tezuka’s Black Jack (Vertical) and reading Keiji Nakazawa’s Barefoot Gen (Last Gasp) for next week’s Manga Moveable Feast. Gory, often cynical fiction and autobiographical despair don’t suggest chocolates and flowers.

It’s also possible that I’m still a little fixated on mountain men and prize-winning manga. Fortunately, Shogakukan provides the right crossover property in the form of Gaku: Minna no Yama, or Peak: Everyone’s Mountain, written and illustrated by Shin’ichi Ishizuka, currently being serialized in Big Comic Original. Gaku won the inaugural Manga Taisho Award in 2008, and it won the Shogakukan Manga Award in 2009.

Gaku seems to track more with my expectations of what happens when you try and scramble up the side of a tall and forbidding peak: you get in trouble. And when you get in trouble, you need someone like protagonist Shimazaki Sanpo to rescue you. Sanpo helps out with a volunteer rescue team that helps climbers in trouble in the Japanese Alps.

It seems to be fairly episodic, with various character stumbling into danger and being saved (or not) by our hero. It also seems to be very beautifully drawn. Shogakukan has a number of preview pages available for several volumes. If you click on the button under the cover image on this listing for the first volume, you’ll open up another window that offers a sneak peak… er… peek. I always like when creators combine stylized character work with realistic backgrounds.

Okay, so it’s possibly not the ideal time of year for rugged, outdoor adventure or stories set in wintry landscapes, given how sick most of us are of the wintry landscapes outside our front doors. But Gaku sounds like fun, and just look how excited Sanpo is about the prospect!

From the stack: Chi’s Sweet Home

We adopted a dog not too long ago. Her previous owner had passed away, and she was being fostered by a kind family in a neighboring town. She’s about two years old and small, apparently some kind of hybrid of Chihuahua and Dachshund, and yes, she looks as odd as that combination suggests. (We’ve unofficially labeled the hybrid “Gummi Weasel,” but we have yet to hear back from the AKC.)

She’s adorable and quirky and we love her very much. Of course, introducing an animal into a new house never goes flawlessly, at least in my experience, but we’re doing our best to convince her that our home is her home and that we’ll always have her best interests at heart, while reassuring our preexisting brood that they’re loved every bit as much as they were before this little alien moved in.

During this gradual and pleasurable process, I’m reminded of the many things Kanata Konami gets exactly right in creating Chi’s Sweet Home (Vertical). I say “reminded,” because I’m sure we relearned all this the last time we welcomed a new animal, but I guess it’s a much milder version of what some people say about childbirth: you forget the negatives, and you just remember the outcome.

The beauty of Chi’s Sweet Home isn’t in its narrative sweep but in the way that Konami captures specific beats in the process of being a pet owner. Yes, there are plenty of kittenish antics from the titular feline, but the spine of the series is her human family adapting to their shared responsibility for this furry little creature. They shift things around in their household to make sure Chi is both safer and less prone to mischief. They take her to the veterinarian. They figure out what kind of food she likes. They trim her nails. They make choices and sacrifices that responsible people make when they add an animal to their family.

If the book was simply about a cute kitten doing cute things, I don’t believe it would be nearly as successful as it is. Powerful a force as cuteness is, care-giving isn’t all romping with plush toys and blissful naps. It’s sometimes messy, sometimes expensive, and sometimes inconvenient. The cuteness is the reward, as is the affection and the gradually strengthening bond between pet and owner. (This is one of the reasons that I think Chi’s Sweet Home would be a great comic for a kid, since the work end of the equation isn’t neglected.)

Over at Comics Alliance, David Brothers gives a persuasive summary of the book’s strong points, noting that Konami has a good grasp of feline behavior. This is absolutely true, and she doesn’t over-anthropomorphize Chi’s antics. She doesn’t need to, because she finds all of these telling moments in the warmly everyday relationship between humans and pet.

Brothers also notes Konami’s willingness to fold sadness into the narrative, which is also entirely correct. I knew it was dramatically successful when I originally read the sequences Brothers describes. But I know it’s accurate from watching our new dog have moments when she seems to remember that our house hasn’t always been her house, that she’s had other, meaningful people in her life, and that something inside her amounts to unfinished business. And if you ignore those moments or reject them, you miss the fullness of the experience that Konami is describing. I never thought I’d use the phrase “mono no aware” to describe a manga about a kitten, but I guess that’s what you get when it’s a seinen manga about a kitten.

So, as we continue to welcome our new little citizen to the household, I’ll certainly keep up with Chi’s immersion in her new home. And I’ll probably have a Gummi Weasel on my lap as I do so.

(This review is based on complimentary copies provided by the publisher.)

Win some, lose some

My latest experiment in crowd-sourced Previews ordering has come to an unexpected conclusion. I feel compelled to order both of them.

This is primarily because Tsuta Suzuki’s Your Story I’ve Known (DMP) has been revealed to not be the kind of comic I’d like to include in these experiments. Enough people who should know have spoken highly of Suzuki’s work to the point that I actually just want to order it because I’d like to read it. Basically, a known quantity that may have qualities I enjoy a lot has crept into the roster of candidates due to my failure of due diligence. This cannot stand.

So, that means the winner by default is Maid Shokun, written by Nanki Satou and illustrated by Akira Kiduki (Tokyopop). Disqualification aside, I was much moved by Erica (Okazu) Friedman’s eloquent plea, and I was frankly unnerved by Tokyopop editor Lillian Diaz-Przybyl’s favorable comparison of the book to Chica Umino’s Honey and Clover (Viz). In my experience, Lillian is completely reliable and further evidence that Tokyopop should let its editors write its marketing text.

This one’s backfired rather badly on me. Fun, though.

The Josei Alphabet: B

“B” is for…

Body and Soul, written and illustrated by Erica Sakurazawa with Takumi Terakado, originally serialized in Shodensha’s Feel Young, two volumes. This is described as half wellness guide, half romance, which sounds very intriguing. It’s been published in French by Asuka.

Barbara Ikai, written and illustrated by Moto Hagio, originally serialized in Shogakukan’s flowers, four volumes. I’ve already covered this series as Otherworld Barbara in a license request, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I may be able to list it under licensed josei when I reach the letter “O.” There’s nothing wrong with optimism, is there?

BeruBara Kids, written and illustrated by Riyoko Ikeda, currently running in Asahi Shimbun, a daily newspaper. How popular is Ikeda’s The Rose of Versailles? So popular that it can spawn a successful, spin-off gag manga, decades after its original publication.

Bara no Tame ni, written and illustrated by Akemi Yoshimura, originally serialized in Shogakukan’s Petit Comic, 16 volumes. Don’t you hate it when your elderly grandmother dies, then you find out that, in spite of what you’ve been told, your mother is alive, is a famous movie actress, and has given birth to hot stepsiblings? Such is the plight of dumpy Yuri, but I suspect her new life has its bright spots.

Bathroom Guuwa, written and illustrated by Mari (Suppli, Sweat and Honey) Okazaki, originally serialized in Shueisha’s Bouquet, one volume. This seems to be a collection of slightly surreal short stories from a wonderfully sophisticated creator. It’s been published in French by Akata.

Magazines:

Licensed josei:

  • The Bachelor, written by Debbie Macomber, illustrated by Misao Hoshiai, originally serialized in Ohzora Shuppan’s Harlequin, published in English by Dark Horse and Harlequin.
  • Beautiful People, written and illustrated by Mitzukazu Mihara, originally serialized in Shodensha’s Feel Young, published in English by Tokyopop.
  • Between the Sheets, written and illustrated by Erica Sakurazawa, originally published by Shodensha, published in English by Tokyopop.
  • Blind Date, written by Emma Darcy, illustrated by Mihoko Hirose, originally serialized in Ohzora Shuppan’s Harlequin, published in English by Dark Horse and Harlequin.
  • Blue, written and illustrated by Kiriko Nanana, originally serialized in Magazine House’s Comic Are!, reprinted in Shodensha’s Feel Young, published in English by Fanfare/Ponent Mon.
  • Bunny Drop, written and illustrated by Yumi Unita, originally serialized in Shodensha’s Feel Young, currently being released in English by Yen Press.
  • Butterflies, Flowers, written and illustrated by Yuki Yoshihara, originally serialized in Shogakukan’s Petit Comic, currently being released in English by Viz.

What starts with “B” in your josei alphabet?

Upcoming 2/9/2011

It’s a huge week for Viz via Diamond, though some books have already shipped through other venues. (See my pick of last week and my pick of this week, and bask in the bafflement!) If you buy your manga shopping via Diamond-dependent comic shops, you have many, many choices, at least according to the ComicList.

Had Viz not sent me a review copy of the second volume of The Story of Saiunkoku, adapted from Sai Yukino’s light novels by Kairi Yura, I probably would have camped out at the local bookstore and repeatedly mispronounced the title as I asked if it had arrived yet. Such was the force of my reaction to the first volume. But does the second hold up? Yes, it certainly does. While not the same kind of revelation, I still ran to my computer to make sure there are more volumes to come. (There are.)

This was a concern, since the first two volumes form what must be an adaptation of Yukino’s first novel in the series. Having established the leads, seemingly feckless emperor Ryuki and his frugal, forceful tutor, Shurei, Yura and Yukino put them in danger in the form of palace intrigue. To be entirely honest, the details of the scheme are much less interesting than Ryuki and Shurei’s individual and collective responses to it. But their shifting but well-balanced relationship is still a complete treat, and the prospect of reading about their next encounter is pure, happy anticipation.

If you like stories about smart, feisty girls sparring with deeper-than-they-seem boys, this series can be injected directly into a vein for that sweet, sweet rush of shôjo romance between the very different but equally matched.

In other Viz news, there’s the seventh volume of the always welcome Kimi ni Todoke: From Me to You, written and illustrated by Karuho Shiina. This one promises lots of holiday activity, which is always fun.

There’s also the less welcome but still potentially intriguing second volume of Genkaku Picasso, written and illustrated by Usumaru Furuya. I wasn’t especially impressed with the first volume, but I find Furuya kind of fascinating, so I’ll probably succumb at some point.

What looks good to you?

From the stack: The Summit of the Gods vol. 2

The second volume of The Summit of the Gods (Fanfare/Ponent Mon), written by Yumemakura Baku and illustrated by Jiro Taniguchi, delves deeply into both the psychology and behavior of its characters, though one particular aspect of their psychology and the behavior it inspires remains utterly baffling to me. I can think of few things I’d rather do less than dangle from an icy mountain by a rope. Since that’s almost all these characters think about, one might anticipate some remoteness on my part as a reader.

This reaction is averted by the sheer density of the work – the madly detailed illustrations, the tense technicalities of climbing, and the oblique revelation of small aspects of the characters. I say small aspects because Baku and Taniguchi make virtually no attempt to answer the big question of how people can dedicate their lives to an activity that’s almost entirely perilous, no matter how prepared you may be.

There’s a lot of dialogue, but there’s very little in the way of speech-making. Nobody really gazes off into the middle distance and talks about the nobility of the climb or anything of that sort. That, to my way of thinking, would have been insufferable, not to mention unpersuasive. The point-of-view character, Fukamachi, has specific interests instead of theses to prove. His attempts to understand things that have happened are different than grasping at reasons or creating context.

Most of the time in this volume is spent with Fukamachi talking to people who know legendary, troubled climber Habu. He learns of an ill-fated climb in Europe and another in Tibet. He digs into the life story of one of Habu’s rivals, finding new ways that their respective careers intersected and ran parallel. Fukamachi has an ultimate goal and mysteries to solve, but he has no specific urgency in his efforts. He’s hearing too many interesting stories to want to bring the process to a speedy conclusion.

The same can be said of the book itself. It doesn’t really have an overwhelming momentum to it, though individual sequences are often very exciting. There’s a level of remove, an analytical quality even to the nail-biting moments that suggests the perspective of a detached (but not entirely unmoved) observer. It’s a very intellectual, meticulous approach to very visceral material, and a big part of the appeal of the series is that counterpoint.

Another part is Taniguchi’s undeniably beautiful illustrations. He exhibits great restraint and fidelity in the way he renders people, keeping them on the unglamorous side. They look average, if robust, instead of heroic, which raises the stakes when they risk their lives. And his breathtaking vistas are a marvelous substitute for seeing these peaks in person.

I’m not really sure where The Summit of the Gods fits in the seinen universe, with its cerebral muscularity. With the possible exception of Hiroshi Hirata’s Satsuma Gishiden (Dark Horse), it’s unlike just about anything else I’ve read, even from Taniguchi. It’s just a tremendously confident work, and it’s rare to feel that quality come through so clearly, yet so modestly at the same time.

Here’s my review of the first volume.

Men or maids?

It’s time again for you to help me choose a title from the current Previews catalog. Here are this month’s candidates:

Your Story I’ve Known, written and illustrated by Tsuta Suzuki, Digital Manga (page 278):

High-school student Matsumoto Haato has fallen in love with his abusive mother’s ex-boyfriend, yakuza Shibusawa, who was nice to him in the past. When he has nowhere left to go he turns to the gruff but kind older man. A three chapter love story that details the changing relationships between the two men over the years.

I admit that I don’t find this description entirely problematic. I do tend to like to investigate yaoi titles fairly thoroughly to see if they meet my rather specific standards (which are very similar to Melinda Beasi’s), and I’m not familiar with this one, its creator, or the magazine from which it springs (Takeshobo’s Reijin).

Maid Shokun, written by Nanki Satou and illustrated by Akira Kiduki, Tokyopop (page 311):

This slice-of-life manga is a lovely exploration of the inner workings of a Maid Cafe, filled with laughter and romance, joy and heartbreak. Maybe you’ve wondered what the ‘maids’ are like before or after work? Or perhaps you’ve wondered how they deal with a job where pleasing the customer is their top priority? Well, let’s introduce you to an adorable, delicate, attractive girl who gets drawn into such a job – and see this unusual story, filled with warmth and pathos, unfold!

I like slice-of-life manga! I like stories set in eateries! I’m utterly indifferent to maid panties. Also, boobies. Also, the Japanese cover to the third volume has to be seen to be believed. Also, Tokyopop’s solicitation text is sometimes singularly useless in evaluating a book’s true nature and the likelihood that I’ll enjoy it. Maid Shokun originally ran in Comic Gum from Wani Books.

So there are your choices. Please vote in the comments, either because you think I’ll be pleasantly surprised or because you want to see me suffer.

Previews review February 2011

The findings from the current issue of Previews aren’t as extensive as they sometimes are, though there are new volumes of plenty of appealing series. And there are two exciting debuts on the artier end of the spectrum.

First up is Shigeru Mizuki’s Onward Towards Our Noble Deaths from Drawn and Quarterly (page 281). Here’s the rundown:

A landmark publishing event by one of Japan’s most famous cartoonists. Shigeru Mizuki is the preeminent figure of Gekiga manga and one of the most famous working cartoonists in Japan today. Onwards Towards Our Noble Deaths is his first book to be translated into English and is a semi-autobiographical account of the desperate final weeks of a Japanese infantry unit at the end of World War II. The soldiers are told that they must go into battle and die for the honor of their country, with certain execution facing them if they return alive. Mizuki was a soldier himself, and he uses his experiences to convey the devastating consequences and moral depravity of the war.

It was originally serialized in Kodansha’s Gekiga Gendai in 1973. You may recognize Mizuki as the creator of GeGeGe no Kitaro. Drawn and Quarterly also plans to publish Mizuki’s Non Non Bâ, which earned top honors at Angoulême in 2007. A large quantity of his work has already been published in French.

Next is Usumaru Furuya’s Lychee Light Club from Vertical (page 316):

The Lychee Light Club is considered Usamaru Furuya’s breakthrough work. Originally designed as an experiemental project Lychee’s themes of youthful rebellion and deus ex machina destruction, and attractive designs eventually won over a new generation of readers and critics, leading the way for Furuya to take on his many recent high profile properties.

A surreal yet touching horror comedy Furuya’s Lychee Light Club that mixes elements of French Le Théâtre du Grand-Guignol and with modern day pop culture tropes and is set in modern day Tokyo. Shocking, sexy and innovative, the Lychee Light Club is at the pinnacle of modern day Japanese seinen manga (young adult comics).

It was originally published in Ohta Shuppan’s fascinatingly rangy Manga Erotics F.

So those are the highlights. Tomorrow, I’ll give readers another opportunity to pick a title for me that could be either intriguing or awful.

The Akiko Higashimura license pool

You know what seems kind of weird to me? That nobody has licensed any manga from Akiko Higashimura yet. She’s been nominated for the Manga Taisho Award three times for three different titles. She was nominated for the Tezuka Cultural Prize in 2010, and she won the Kodansha Award in 2010. Of course, the admiration of one’s peers and critics doesn’t necessarily translate into something marketable.

And yet, there’s evidence that her highly regarded artistic sensibility yields commercially successful product. Kuragehime, which won the Kodansha, has been adapted into an animated series, which is available in the United States through Funimation as Princess Jellyfish. While it’s not unheard of for a josei series like Kuragehime (which ran in Kodansha’s Kiss) to be made into an anime, it’s still unusual enough to be impressive.

The manga also has the advantage of falling into the “Nerds, yay!” genre. It’s about an apartment building filled with female otaku. They describe themselves as “nuns,” and each has her own religion. The lead, who’s loved jellyfish since memorable trips to an aquarium with her mother, wants to be an illustrator and has moved to Tokyo to achieve that, but she’s cripplingly shy. She makes an outgoing new friend, though, who becomes her roommate. The friend turns out to be a cross-dresser from a well-connected political family who’d rather work in fashion.

So there are geeks, secret-identity shenanigans, big dreams, romance, and, if I’m correctly informed, the pernicious influence of gentrification. What’s the hold up? Based on existing enthusiasm, I’d imagine that Kodansha is waiting for the best offer, or to establish their outpost well enough to publish it themselves. It’s up to six volumes.

And if I’m going to be perfectly honest, I’d rather read her Himawari: Kenichi Legend, which is running in Kodansha’s Morning. It’s about another aspiring artist, this time a would be mangaka who toils at an office lady for the same company that employs her eccentric father. There are 13 volumes available so far, and I just get a good vibe off of it, particularly because it’s supposed to be loosely autobiographical.

Her current series is Omo ni Naitemasu, which I’ve seen translated as Mainly Crying, running in Morning and up to three volumes. As near as I can determine, it’s about an extraordinarily beautiful woman who lives a rather isolated life. It also has really striking covers, which is always a plus.

So what are your thoughts on Higashimura’s license prospects? She’s clearly talented and prolific, neither of which ever hurt a mangaka. Which of her titles tickle your fancy? Do you think any of them will be announced by the end of the year?

My official guess: Kodansha will announce Kuragehime at this year’s Comic-Con International.

From the stack: Kamisama Kiss vol. 1

One of the bonuses of the most recent Manga Moveable Feast was being introduced to a series I really liked (as opposed to the pleasure of talking about a series I already appreciated), Julietta Suzuki’s Karakuri Odette (Tokyopop). For more points, the feast convinced me to pick up a copy of Suzuki’s Kamisama Kiss (Viz), so now I have two new series that I enjoy. I also have a creator added to my “try automatically” list in Suzuki.

I’ve read good manga about supernatural boys sparking with human girls, and I’ve read some fairly icky manga about the same subject. Kamisama Kiss is decidedly on the good end of the spectrum; it’s endearingly familiar, but it has the same evidence of a quirky, distinct sensibility that Suzuki displayed in Karakuri Odette.

Nanami, a high-school girl, finds herself orphaned and homeless when her irresponsible father flees his gambling debts. Even in distress, she’s good hearted, and she helps a stranger she meets in the park where she’s planning to sleep. In return, he offers her shelter. Unfortunately, it turns out to be a dilapidated shrine, and the free rent is balanced by some heavy responsibilities.

One of those is riding herd over the supernatural staff, which includes a snide (but cute) fox demon named Tomoe. He dislikes Nanami and is reluctant to serve under her. Nanami finds him obnoxious, but she’s a responsible person, and she wants to fulfill her duties to the shrine (and not die at the hands of some rival demon). Disgruntled protagonists are nothing new, but Suzuki makes an important choice in her portrayal of them. She makes them equally matched.

Much as Tomoe would like to bully and deride Nanami for her human incompetence, Suzuki gives the girl an edge over the fox. He still has the advantage of his knowledge and powers, but Nanami gets just enough of the right kind of authority to hold her own. She approaches her responsibilities at the shrine differently, which Tomoe finds both irritating and intriguing. Suzuki finds small, surprising ways to indicate that their relationship may evolve further.

The art is appealing. After the appropriate restraint exhibited in Karakuri Odette, it’s nice to see Suzuki get a little goofy, even over the top at times. Her designs for the supernatural characters are great fun, particularly a visiting demonic dignitary Nanami tries to help. She’s a catfish priestess, of sorts, and Suzuki goes to town making her aristocratic, unnerving, and strangely adorable.

Kamisama Kiss is off to a very promising start. It’s got grumpy, likeable leads, a solid premise, and an endearing look to it.