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.)
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?