The Manga Curmudgeon

Spending too much on comics, then talking too much about them

Upcoming 11/21/2007

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If I’m up to date with my reading, it’s only slightly, you know? I’m just about done with the second volume of Gilbert Hernandez’s wonderful Palomar stories, Human Diastrophism, which I’ll probably get around to reviewing later in the week. (It’s not that you need me to tell you how great these stories are. I just feel like it, okay?) This week, Fantagraphics is delivering the third volume, Beyond Palomar. (Don’t even get me started on New Tales of Old Palomar, or I’ll be forced to admit that I’m waiting for the trade.)

I’m not waiting for the trade with Linda Medley’s Castle Waiting (also from Fantagraphics). Would it read better in big chunks? Probably, but patience has never been my strong suit.

Go! Comi sent me a complimentary copy of Aimee Major Steinberger’s Japan Ai: A Tall Girl’s Adventures in Japan, a cute journal/sketchbook detailing Steinberger’s otaku pilgrimage. I like Steinberger’s friendly style of illustration, and I almost always enjoy travel comics. (Even ones that partake of the kind of travel I’d never consider, though Steinberger seems to be as much a fan of hotels and consumerism as I am.)

"Something a child could live with…"

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This week’s Flipped is up, and while I know there are probably many manga out there with worse titles than Pumpkin Scissors (Del Rey), I still can’t think of any to top it. (And yes, I’m including Banana Fish.) Nifty book, though.

And burdened with a title as bland as plain microwave oatmeal is the otherwise charming Venus in Love (CMX).

From the stack: Kimmie66

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Most of the books DC’s Minx imprint has published to date have felt like drafts to me, one or two serious edits away from seeming really finished. The notable exception is Re-Gifters, one of my favorite books of this year. Now it’s been joined by Aaron Alexovich’s Kimmie66. I’m not saying that it’s a great book, but it at least feels like a completed graphic novel.

First of all, it’s got a proper story, with a beginning, middle and end, and enough sidelines and flourishes to keep it from feeling too mechanical. It never goes off the narrative rails, and it executes its premise with welcome coherence and diligence.

It follows Telly, a 23rd Century, 14-year-old girl who spends most of her time in virtual reality. Lest you think she’s too much of a geek, this is a common, even pervasive pastime in the future. There are niche environments for just about every taste, and Telly favors the goth pastures of Elysium. The pleasures of online escapism are tainted when one of her closest virtual friends, the titular Kimmie, sends Telly a suicide note. So why does Kimmie keep popping up in various virtual neighborhoods?

Alexovich takes good advantage of the vagaries of online friendships as the mystery unfolds. Is Kimmie really dead? Should Telly violate her privacy by trying to match a real person to the avatar? Telly’s investigation is constructed well, and she doesn’t demonstrate any skills or insights that tax credibility.

Not all of it works perfectly. There’s apparently a ban of some sort on frequenting more than one niche community, though I’m never really sure why. Kimmie is never really a vivid presence, so the revelations about her on- and offline lives don’t have as much weight as they seem like they should. The characters generally have distinct voices, but some of the invented future slang is a little clumsy. And there are some weird little things that stand out. (Anyone can sink into an immersive VR environment but they still wash dishes by hand? “Homo” is still a slur 200 years in the future? The work of Patrick Swayze has survived the test of time?)

But it does hang together when all is said and done, and Alexovich is a very talented illustrator. His character designs are particularly appealing, and the virtual landscapes are interesting.

It sounds like I’m damning the book with faint praise, and I have to admit that’s partly true. Noting that a book seems ready for publication isn’t that big of a compliment, and it might not seem particularly noteworthy from another publisher or imprint. But it does seem to buck the trend of the current roster of Minx books, and it’s perfectly competent work on its merits.

From the stack: Fox Bunny Funny

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“You looking for an answer or an argument?”

— Birdie Coonan, All About Eve

With its adorable animals and wordless storytelling, Andy Hartzell’s Fox Bunny Funny (Top Shelf) could be mistaken for a simple allegory about being true to yourself. It’s a lot creepier and more complex than that, with none of the certainty allegory usually offers.

It’s about a fox who, against all societal norms, yearns to embrace his inner bunny. His family is aghast, and truth be told, so is the fox. Received knowledge tells him he’s a freak, and the conflict between his deepest feelings and the prevailing culture can be agonizing. Hartzell certainly doesn’t flinch away from illustrating the manifestations of that conflict, and the consequences of the fox choosing to pass for “normal” are gruesome in ways that take full advantage of the Wild Kingdom dynamic.

In other words, Hartzell is blending human concerns without fully anthropomorphizing his cast of critters. It’s tricky storytelling, though its cleverness and visual appeal don’t diminish or trivialize the subject matter. Anyone who’s read a fair amount of the work of Osamu Tezuka will recognize the juxtaposition of familiar, even friendly cartooning tools with deeper, darker issues.

And Hartzell steadfastly refuses to fall back on moral clarity. If the fox’s attempts at passing tear him apart, his path to transformation is also challenging and frightening. Polarity and anxiety aren’t only found in the rigid constructs of fox versus bunny; the gray area, the place where creatures are freer to express and explore, has its own difficulties and sometimes contradictory rules.

It’s a challenging piece, one that Hartzell has executed with emotional frankness and a wonderfully fluid design sense. He seems to want an argument, and he sets the stage for a rewarding and complicated one.

Quick comic comments: King of Thorn Vol. 2

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The second volume of Yuji Iwahara’s King of Thorn (Tokyopop) offers more of exactly the same – a small handful of thawed-out survivors of a deadly disease navigate a now-monster-infested medical facility where they were cryogenically frozen until a cure could be found for their affliction.

I’d write a proper review, but it would end up sounding just like the one I wrote about the first volume, only with increased impatience — exciting set pieces, great art, and flat characters. It’s probably an unfair comparison, but I think Mochizuki Minetaro gave Dragon Head (also Tokyopop) a much more effective launch. There were just as many thrills and chills, but Minetaro’s characters were instantly arresting and specific, in spite of the extremity of their circumstances.

Has anyone read this series in Japanese or German or French? How long does it take for things to get weirder and more interesting, or at least more personal? I really want to like this series, because Iwahara’s Chikyu Misaki (CMX) is one of my favorite manga of all time, but I really need some reassurance that quirkier developments are coming.

Upcoming 11/14/2007

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So clearly, the release of the week is Bryan Lee O’Malley’s Scott Pilgrim Gets It Together from Oni. The rest of the comics industry might be forgiven for just taking it easy in the face of such a formidable arrival, but they aren’t.

Heck, even Oni isn’t, and they’re releasing Courtney Crumrin and the Fire-Thief’s Tale from Ted Naifeh. (I’ve really got to catch up on this series, because I’ve loved what I’ve read.)

I’ll be covering it in more detail in next week’s Flipped, but I will say I really enjoyed Yuki Nakaji’s Venus in Love (CMX). It’s a sweet slice of college life about a girl and a guy who are in love with the same guy.

A new title from Fumi Yoshinaga is always worth a look, and Digital Manga offers Garden Dreams. I tend to favor her contemporary stories to her period pieces, but I generally can’t resist either, and I’m intrigued that this one isn’t part of the Juné imprint.

The previous volume of Natsuki Takaya’s Fruits Basket (Tokyopop) offered the biggest bombshell in a while, and the eighteenth installment promises even more shocks. But really, the whole thing could be nothing but characters talking about their favorite onigiri filling and I’d still buy it.

And yes, I’m still a Shojo Beat junkie, thanks to the inclusion of Honey and Clover and Sand Chronicles. Well played, Viz.

From the stack: Muhyo and Roji's Bureau of Supernatural Investigation

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Quirky private investigators helping people with supernatural difficulties? In theory, I’m exactly the target audience for Yoshiyuki Nishi’s Muhyo and Roji’s Bureau of Supernatural Investigation (Viz – Shonen Jump), because I’ve repeatedly demonstrated my fondness for these kinds of stories. The reality is slightly more complicated, because Nishi’s take lacks the specificity and quirks of books like The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service (Dark Horse) or Omukae Desu (CMX).

It has a fun premise. Creepy, tiny Muhyo is an executor of “magic law.” He’s entitled to hand down gruesome sentences on spirits of varying degrees of malevolence, and he takes a certain delight in messing with the heads of the living and the dead. Roji is his dorky, good-natured clerk, trying to work his way up the magic law ladder and keep Muhyo from scaring away all of their clients.

As a comedy duo, they’re functional but unexceptional. They don’t have the depth of character to really nail the jokes. That leaves most of the entertainment heavy lifting to their clients and cases.

The series is on firmer ground there. Nishi comes up with some nifty and varied hauntings, and there are some nice shivers in the individual chapters. (Is there anything spookier than a possessed doll?) There’s next to no gore in the illustrations, but Nishi has great visual imagination. The set pieces demonstrate a neatly gruesome energy.

As these kinds of series go, it’s not the best. (That would be Kurosagi, followed closely by the too-short Mail, also from Dark Horse.) But it’s pretty good, and with more attention to character, it could notch up to really good.

(Based on a complimentary copy provided by the publisher.)

From the stack: Aventura

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Shin Midorikawa’s Aventura (Del Rey) falls into the category of what I call “If you say so” manga. By that I mean that the underlying mythology is generally impenetrable to me, no matter how carefully the manga-ka tries to articulate it.

In this case, it’s magic. The series takes place in a school dedicated to the subject where students are divided into two categories – wizards and swordspersons. Scruffy redhead Lewin Randit is on the hack-and-slash track, though it’s not his first choice. Unfortunately, he seems to have no magical aptitude whatsoever outside of some minor pyromaniac tendencies.

In spite of the segregation, he meets a budding witch and wizard in the school library, and they form a solid friendship. Yes, it’s three youngsters, two male and one female, navigating magic school together, and Lewin has an odious, Draco Malfoy-esque rival, though the similarities to Harry Potter pretty much end there.

For one thing, Aventura is a lot more sincere. There’s nothing particularly antic going on, and daily life seems to consist of lots of long talks about following dreams and being true to yourself. The magical content is beyond my ability (or desire) to fully comprehend as well, much more theoretical than practical. I think it has something to do with earth, wind, fire and water, but it seems vastly more complicated.

It’s gorgeous to look at. Midorikawa’s illustrations are eye-poppingly detailed and generally flow well. I just wish they were in service to a more gripping story.

(Review based on a complimentary copy provided by the publisher.)

From the stack: Hikkatsu! Strike a Blow to Vivify

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I’ve just put the finishing touches on this week’s Flipped, with cooking manga in the spotlight, and I was hoping to be able to wedge Yu Yagami’s Hikkatsu! Strike a Blow to Vivify (Go! Comi) into the mix. Alas, in spite of the protagonist’s dedication to violent appliance repair, he doesn’t give so much as a hostile look to a microwave, much less roundhouse-kick a convection oven into compliance.

Yes, the protagonist, Shota, uses karate to repair broken appliances, or at least he hopes to. For the most part, his efforts just guarantee that the appliances will never work again. It’s amusingly ridiculous, if not ridiculously amusing.

Shota’s quest is based in a misunderstanding. During a scolding, his sensei insisted Shota use karate only to help, and the logic of a six-year-old took it from there. After a decade of training atop Mt. Fuji, he re-enters the world with an equally bizarre paramour at his side. (Momoko is a spirited young woman who was raised by pigeons, and she’s completely undeterred by the fact that Shota seems only marginally aware of her presence.) A trio forms when Shota and Momoko run into a crook named Kanji who makes a living selling a variety of dodgy merchandise.

Fortunately, Yagami has a better success rate with the jokes than Shota does with his work-in-progress repair strike. They don’t all work, but some are genuinely hilarious, and the series is good-natured overall. The art is a lot of fun, all gangly figures and loopy action sequences. It’s Go! Comi, so you know the production values and translation are of high quality.

If I was going to unreservedly recommend an absurdly funny action series, it would probably be Hideaki Sorachi’s Gin Tama (Viz). But Hikkatsu! makes a solid, second-place showing.

(Review based on a complimentary copy provided by the publisher.)