In a recent Unbound column at Robot 6, Brigid Alverson mentions books in what we might call the “Never gonna happen” category of comics from Japan… “culturally problematic series” “that are unlikely to ever be published in the U.S.” Brigid cited Hikaru Nakamura’s Saint Young Men as an example of this kind of book. While the logical part of my brain can accept that the publisher who tries to package this title for an English-reading audience has an uphill hike ahead of them, the part of my brain that is responsible for the vast majority of this blog’s content is reduced to muttering “want… want.. want…” with increasing fervor.

The premise sounds like a micro-joke that you might see on The Simpsons as the family talks about the new season debuts on Fox. Jesus and Buddha take a break from their lives as divinities to share an apartment in contemporary Tokyo and see what the simple folk do. So you’ve got not one but two presumably satirical renderings of religious figures right there, which is always a recipe for a long, unpleasant freak-out.

MangaCast’s Kursten reviewed the first volume, and her take leads me to suspect that the series is of the oddly reverent variety rather than the scathingly satirical:

“This manga is pure genius. The art may not be that exceptional or groundbreaking but the story is. I can probably understand some apprehensions in reading Saint Oniisan due to its religious implications, but the genius of the manga lies in how Nakamura manages to depict the two dieties in a real context without insulting their divinities.”

I think it sounds like a terrific series, with two divinities hanging out and experiencing the everyday (though not the sordid). Nakamura even gives them a bit of an Odd Couple twist: Buddha is frugal and kind of uptight; Jesus goes with the flow.

It’s being serialized in Kodansha’s Morning 2, and by some weird coincidence (or miracle), I actually have a copy of an issue with two chapters in it, which is the source for the terrible scans included with this article. I suppose it’s possible in some distant future that Kodansha Comics might publish it in English, but perhaps we shouldn’t hold our breath waiting. Given the likely density of culturally specific references and remedial religious studies, along with the publisher’s demonstrated ability to manage them well, I’d vote for Del Rey to helm this one. They’ve published manga that seems like it should have been untranslatable, and Kodansha still seems to like them.

And really, the definition of “Never gonna happen” is changing all the time. That goalpost has never been fixed, and it seems to shift a little bit month by month, year by year. I can buy Detroit Metal City at the mall if I want. Is Saint Young Men really that distant a dream?

How is it that I’ve been doing these license requests for so long without pleading for that all-too-rarely translated kind of comic that explores the lives of contemporary working women? As you all surely know by now, I’m a big fan of Mari Okazaki’s Suppli, and I’m thrilled that Tokyopop plans to resume publication of the series next year. But is one really good example of this kind of story really enough? No, it is not.

So I must ask some kind, forward-thinking publisher to give us a licensed version of Moyoco Anno’s Hataraki Man, originally serialized by Kodansha in its Weekly Morning magazine. It’s about a late-20s magazine editor, a workaholic whose personal life is somewhat lacking as a result. At The Beat, Heidi MacDonald found this more detailed look at the series in the U.K.’s Times Online:

“A well-educated, chain-smoking, occasionally foul-mouthed comic-book character has become a heroine for millions of Japanese women who are battling for recognition in the country’s male-dominated workplace.

“Through her exploits, women have begun to see how, perhaps, they might overturn decades of gender inequality and chip away at one of Japan’s most frequently decried statistics – that, across all industries, only 10 per cent of managers are female.

“To succeed in her working life, Hiroko Matsukata, a fictional magazine news editor, deploys a range of arts that her fans are quickly adopting themselves. The 28-year-old is sweet when she needs to be and flint-hearted when threatened. She is even able to control her use of Japanese, suddenly dropping the niceties of speech traditionally expected of women when she needs male colleagues to take her seriously.”

Everything I read about this series makes it sound more awesome to me. Well, almost everything, as Anno had to suspend work on the series due to health issues. But there are four volumes available, and since josei (or titles that look very much like josei, as Morning is technically a seinen magazine) is not a sector that has yet enjoyed commercial success here, maybe that’s not so daunting a number for a publisher.

Unlike many of the creators whose work winds up in this category, Anno has actually had a lot of her work translated. Tokyopop published her eleven-volume Happy Mania. Viz published her six-volume Flowers and Bees. Del Rey published her eight-volume Sugar Sugar Rune. Of course, it’s a Kodansha property, and I wouldn’t even hazard a guess as to what they might do next, as their latest piece of strategy seemed to be to make less of their work available in English. But one can always hope.

Ediciones Glénat has picked up Spanish-language publishing rights for the book, which they will call Tokio Style.

I think I’ve got the hook for a commercially successful attempt to license classic shôjo manga. After careful perusal of the past month’s worth of Graphic Book Best Seller lists at The New York Times, a trend has emerged: people seem to like reading about angst-ridden, young-looking vampires. And while this is not an identifier at the top of my must-buy list, more licensed manga by Moto Hagio does hover around the top of that list.

You know, just because moody blood-suckers are one of the current big things doesn’t mean this is the first time they’ve enjoyed that pride of place. Back in the day, Hagio was rocking out the vamps with her nine-volume series, Poe no Ichizoku (sometimes translated as “The Poe Clan”). It was originally serialized in Shogakukan’s Flower Comics in the early 1970s.

It’s apparently about a pair of abandoned human children who are taken in by a family of vampires, or “Vampanellas.” Now, vampire fiction makes me giggle to begin with, and “Vampanellas” sounds like some kind of Italian breakfast pastry filled with ox-bone marrow and possibly dried fruit, but I could get over that. It’s Moto Hagio, and she could call them “Bloodsuckeronis” and I wouldn’t care.

From what I can discern, there’s lots of angst about whether or not one actually becomes a vampire and, one presumes, tons of sexual tension between vampire and non-vampire cast members. Since it’s Hagio, I would assume that this sexual tension is not limited to mixed-gender couplings. Of course, I also would assume that, if the book featured moody boy vampires making cow-eyes at each other, somebody would already have licensed it.

Poe no Ichizoku won the Shogakukan Manga Award in 1976. It, along with Hagio’s They Were Eleven, took the shônen category, presumably because they were awesome and the program did not yet have a shôjo category. (They Were Eleven ran in Shôjo Comic, and it was included in Viz’s out-of-print Four Shôjo Stories.)

So apparently someone has decided that the internet needs “A Day Without Cats” next Tuesday. It’s some kind of National Day of Silence where everyone agrees not to tell cute cat stories or post cute cat pictures or video, and I’m not really clear why it’s necessary. I mean, there are lots of other things I’d like to see the internet go a day without, you know?

But far be it from me to be purposely contrarian. On Tuesday, Sept. 9, I will continue my fairly impressive track record of not telling cute cat stories or posting cute cat pictures. Well, it was a fairly impressive track record until today, when I beg some publisher to bring English-reading audiences what appears to be the cutest cat manga ever.

Of course I’m talking about Chi’s Sweet Home, written and illustrated Konami Kanata and serialized in Kodansha’s Weekly Morning magazine. Here’s the sometimes-reliable Wikipedia’s description of the series:

“A gray and white kitten with black stripes wanders away from her mother and siblings one day while enjoying a walk outside with her family. Lost in her surroundings, the kitten struggles to find her family and instead is found by a young boy, Youhei, and his mother. They take the kitten home, but as pets are not allowed in their housing complex, they try to find her a new home. This proves to be difficult, and the family decides to keep the kitten. While being housebroken, she mistakenly answers to ‘Chi,’ (the Japanese word for ‘small’, can also be ‘pee’) and this becomes her name. Chi then has a splendid time living with her new family, learning about different things and meeting new people and animals.”

Okay, so it sounds like it’s Yotsuba with a kitten instead of a green-haired pre-schooler. I don’t see a down side to this, but I’m a cat person. (Before anyone gets their hackles up, I’m also a dog person. There appear to be six collected volumes available, which is not at all unreasonable, though it’s ongoing, so who knows how many there’ll eventually be? I don’t really care, because CUTE KITTENS DOING CUTE THINGS.

Morning is in the seinen category, but I’ve always gotten the impression that it’s more for people who like great comics than 20-something men who like fanservice and weaponry, though I’m sure it’s perfectly capable of delivering those qualities with brio. Morning has been home to manga by Fumi Yoshinaga, Moyoco Anno, and Fuyumi Soryo, along with Planetes and Vagabond, so it seems as though the manga must only be made of freshly minted win to have a place in the roster.

Chi’s Sweet Home seems to have that feline je ne sais quoi that could fill a niche in the existing market. Sure, predicting what Kodansha will do has proven to be impossible, but when it comes down to cute kitten manga, the request must be made. And when Tuesday comes and you’re feeling that withdrawal, know that at least a few cute kitten pictures are here for you.

Update: Commenter Althalus notes that Ediciones Glénat will be is publishing the book in Spanish.

I don’t just want English versions of comics from Japan, you know. And since I seem to be casting my eyes towards France today, I’ll make it a theme and request… beg, even… that someone takes a crack at Fabrice Neaud’s Journal.

In fairness, there is a Japanese connection here. I first became aware of Neaud’s work in Fanfare/Ponent Mon’s wonderful Japan as Viewed by 17 Creators. (Neaud was one of the 17.) Here’s my reaction to his contribution, “The City of Trees”:

“I’m particularly desperate to see more work from Neaud after reading ‘The City of Trees.’ As Neaud explores Sendai, seeing its sights and eavesdropping on its people, he peppers his narrative with flashes of his inner life. Experiences can unexpectedly call to mind bits of his own pain or heighten his sense of isolation. But they can also please and soothe him. It’s three-quarter travelogue, one-quarter confessional, all rendered with a wonderful eye for detail.”

A few years later, I’m still particularly desperate. Over at Prism Comics, François Peneaud included Journal among the “Top Ten Comics for LGBT Readers”:

“Fabrice Neaud is a unique author in French comics (or bandes dessinées, as we call them). He’s a member of the Ego Comme X group (‘ego as x’, pronounced ‘ego comix’), and the only gay artist there… His Journal (‘diary’) is among the best comics coming from France, for its strong point of view and its constant inventiveness. I think it would suit quite well either Drawn & Quarterly or Fantagraphics.”

Ego Comme X has published four volumes of Journal so far, about 800 pages total. Two of those volumes have been published in Spanish as Diario by La Cúpula. And I must repeat myself when I note that none of those volumes have been published in English by anyone. Someone should fix that.