Upcoming 2/24/2010

It’s kind of a dead week for manga in terms of new arrivals at comic shops, so what better way to spend it than by focusing on a book that deals with dead bodies? Conveniently enough, the highlight of this week’s arrivals is the 10th volume of The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service (Dark Horse), written by Eiji (MPD-Psycho) Otsuka and illustrated by Housui (Mail) Yamazaki. In another bit of fortuitous timing, Johanna (Manga Worth Reading) Draper Carlson has just added this series to her roster of Recommended Series:

“The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service, it was well-recommended, but I wasn’t sure it was for me, given that it was classified as horror and the premise involved lovingly depicted dead bodies. I’m glad I went ahead and tried it, because I very much enjoyed it. It reminded me of Pushing Daisies, if that show was more laconic and Japanese.”

Kristen Chenoweth could totally play Makino, the embalmer. And musical numbers are just about the only thing that could actually improve this title, though I think musical numbers improve just about everything.
Johanna points to this entry from Shaenon K. Garrity’s Overlooked Manga Festival. Tremble before the force of her persuasive writing:

“Anyway, Kurosagi is a horror comic, in kind of the same way ‘Scream’ was a horror movie, or ‘Buffy’ was a horror TV show. That is, it’s smart and self-aware and full of pop-cult references and weird little factoids. Writer Eiji Otsuka likes to show off just how damn clever he is by mixing two offbeat elements no other manga writer would think of into a single story. A story about crop circles and mummified chimpanzees. Professional mourners and a serial killer who targets depressing blogs. The urban legend about the bride kidnapped from a dressing room and turned into a circus freak and the Japanese version of the ‘Bodyworlds’ corpse-art exhibition. The Rape of Nanking and soap people. And so on.”

What, you need more persuasion? Or maybe you’re worried about not being able to find the volumes in order? Let Kate (The Manga Critic) Dacey put your mind at ease:

“A final tip: you don’t need to read the volumes in order — or even all of them, for that matter — to enjoy The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service, though I highly recommend all nine volumes.”

That about covers it, don’t you think?

Audience development: Mail

I’m just not feeling the ComicList this week. When the big manga releases have been in print in English for years, I just can’t get all that excited. I’ve also got to say that the publisher’s utter lack of anything resembling even minimal marketing efforts bothers me. They seem to understand how competitive the market is for translated manga, but they’ve never sent out a press release, haven’t built even a rudimentary web site, and have given only a single interview barely a week before the release of their first round books.

Listen, I’m not saying I want more press releases in my inbox, but I am saying that even successful, high-profile publishers with good bookstore saturation work hard to spread the word about their products. It’s not encouraging to see the much-anticipated direct entry of a major Japanese publisher into the translated-manga market be conducted with a caution and reticence that seems to verge on agoraphobia.

So forget the new stuff. I’ll take the occasion and the fast-approaching Halloween to recommend a really entertaining but neglected horror comic:

mailcover1

You may know Housui Yamazaki as the illustrator of the very entertaining The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service, written by Eiji (MPD Psycho) Otsuka. Or you may not; it’s got a devoted following, but it’s never exactly set the sales charts on fire. That’s obviously a shame too, but today we’re talking about Yamazaki’s solo effort, the three-volume Mail.

If Kurosagi can be described as an older-skewing Scooby Doo with actual ghosts, Mail is more in the line of The Twilight Zone hosted by Richie Brockelman, also with ghosts.

mailv2p1

Master of ceremonies Reiji Akiba can see ghosts. (Exactly how that came to be is explained in an origin story in the third volume.) They’re definitely on the malevolent end of the spiritual spectrum, but not to worry. He’s got just the means of dealing with them.

mailv3p1

Yes, it’s exorcism at gunpoint. The majority of the three volumes are a collection of stand-alone stories, with generally innocent people running afoul of nasty ghosts and Akiba coming to their rescue. I’m not going to claim that it’s a wildly novel concept, but Yamazaki executes it very well. I could have read more volumes of the series, but I’m happy to revisit the three I have, especially at this time of year.

Yamazaki is a sharp and imaginative illustrator, and he really has a handle on episodic storytelling. He’s got a sly sense of humor and a knack for building suspense in a relatively small number of pages. If you’re looking for some stylish shivers in a series that doesn’t demand a big investment of time or dollars, Mail is an excellent choice.

There are a number of series that fall into the category of engaging, episodic horror. What are some of your favorites?

Audience development: Sand Chronicles

I’m always glad to see shôjo titles rank in the manga section of The New York Times Graphic Book Best Sellers list. After a fairly long period where Natsuki Takaya’s near-perfect Fruits Basket (Tokyopop) seemed to carry that banner alone, other series have made regular appearances on the roster. And if they’re not precisely the titles I would wish were leading the sales pack, well, I’m glad all the same.

sandchron1Still, if I had my way, Hinako Ashihara’s Sand Chronicles (Viz) would be earning sales that match its quality. It’s about a girl named Ann who moves to a small town with her unstable mother at the age of 12, then follows Ann and her friends through happiness, tears and all of the stuff in between those two extremes. It’s both precisely observed and effectively melodramatic, and the characters are wonderfully sympathetic, largely because Ashihara respects them enough to let them be jerks from time to time.

It was serialized in Viz’s late, lamented Shojo Beat, and its first three volumes were included in last year’s list of Great Graphic Novels for Teens, even earning a spot among the Top Ten. So it’s obviously well regarded. I mean, look at these reviews:

“Manga-ka Hinako Ashihara dares to believe that even children and teens have complicated lives that are riddled with anxiety as much as, if not more than, it is filled with carefree fun. Anything but a downer, however, Sand Chronicles is rich storytelling about the drama of life.” Leroy Douresseaux at Comic Book Bin

sandchron2

Sand Chronicles continues to be a very strong story, showing off both the simplicity and complexity of ordinary teenagers trying to find their places in the world. It’s still one of the best titles I’ve read this year.” Ysabet Reinhardt MacFarlane at Manga Life

Sand Chronicles isn’t about saving the world…or destroying it. These teenagers don’t have superpowers; their adolescent angst isn’t going to knock the planet from its orbit or reshape the destiny of humanity. That is not the sort of story Hinako Ashihara won a Shogakukan Manga Award for. No, rather, she was recognized for writing an affective story about realistic teenaged troubles and triumphs. In their little world of Tokyo and Shimane, what happens matters—it matters a lot—and best of all, it will matter to this series’ faithful readers as well.” Casey Brienza at Anime News Network

sandchron3

“Oh, the emotional turmoil is so hard-hitting! This series has gone from a wonderful bit of recognition at the complexities of relationships to a painful observation of the things people do that can hurt themselves and others when they aren’t willing to move on from traumatic moments.” Matthew Brady at Warren Peace Sings the Blues

“Granted, the usual romantic ups and downs provide plenty of tears and jeers, but the thoughtful slice-of-life framing and an eye for humanistic details floats this series to the top of the shojo tank. No one feels overly like a character trope, and Ashihara’s sense for the minute highs and lows of adolescence is a blessing in a series that could have been destined for average shelf status.” Chloe Ferguson at Manga Recon

If you like comics about real people with real problems that are executed with tremendous skill and sensitivity, you should give Sand Chronicles a try.

(Got a book you feel deserves some audience development? Like to write a guest column about it? E-mail me and we’ll see what we can do.)

Audience development: Real

Welcome to another new, hopefully semi-regular feature where I hope to highlight some really good comics that you probably aren’t reading. Let’s start with Takehiko Inoue’s Real (Viz). As I see it, there are two main reasons Real might not have found the audience it deserves.

real1The first may be the fact that Real is perceived as sports manga, which seems to be right up there with josei in terms of stateside salability. Sports manga partisans are devoted, but they are not numerous. Now, I have a theory as to why this category might be significantly less popular in the United States than it is in Japan. It involves a fair amount of stereotyping, so I apologize in advance if this reasoning doesn’t apply to you, and I acknowledge that there will certainly be exceptions, possibly numerous.

Now, we all know that a much larger percentage of Japanese kids read comics than kids in the United States do. It’s a much more normalized activity for kids there. And, in my experience, comics are one of the things American kids enjoy instead of sports. With a much larger population of comics-reading kids in Japan, it seems much more likely that a healthy percentage of them enjoy comics in addition to sports and consequently enjoy seeing one of their hobbies dramatized in that format. Speaking only for myself, I already feel like competitive athletics are sufficiently glamorized in more than enough venues, so I would much prefer if they kept their muddy cleat prints off of my comics, thank you very much.

real3But Real isn’t actually a sports manga. It’s a character-driven drama. There’s certainly athletic activity being portrayed, and some characters are motivated by their desire to excel in competitive sports, but that’s really just one color in the book’s spectrum of aspirations. It’s much more about achieving independence and respect, which are much more universal.

This brings me to the second possible hurdle to wanting to read Real: the fact that most of its protagonists are coping with a disability. Works that dramatize the experience of overcoming a disability struggle with some unfortunate (and often accurate) preconceptions: that they are mawkish in their attempts to uplift or self-righteous in their attempts to educate.

real5Real suffers from neither of those failings. It’s gritty and funny and, as I noted before, driven by complex characters. There are no plaster saints in Inoue’s cast. That’s not to say that they’re unsympathetic, and I think the fact that they can be obnoxious or alienating makes the audience’s sympathetic reaction more genuine. Their flaws negate the potentially queasy feeling of abstract pity in favor of actual identification.

Real is also magnificently drawn, as I’ve noted previously. That never hurts, especially when an artist folds as much emotion and subtext into his or her illustrations as Inoue does here. So, honestly, if you’re avoiding Real because it’s about sports or because you fear movie-of-the-week moralizing about the resilient disabled, I can assure you that you’ve nothing to fear. It’s a great comic with engrossing characters, and it deserves a larger readership. Five volumes are currently available in English, so you aren’t even really that far behind, as these things go.

(Got a book you feel deserves some audience development? Like to write a guest column about it? E-mail me and we’ll see what we can do.)