The Manga Curmudgeon

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

Six bucks

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I’ve been trying to figure out if Jeff Smith’s Shazam! The Monster Society of Evil (DC) is worth six bucks, but I think I’ve been asking the wrong question. It’s not a case of it being worth that price point so much as whether or not it was smart to package it in such a way that the single-issue cost went that high.

It’s a quality object, with a sturdy cover, 48 glossy pages, high production values, and no advertisements. In the mathematics of comics production, all of those qualities push the price point higher, and I don’t think it’s just a matter of perceived value.

I appreciate the choice to eschew advertising, because Jeff Smith’s work has a purity and simplicity that would not sit comfortably next to greasy skater punks hawking yogurt in a tube or whatever other ads run in Big Two comics these days. It demonstrates a respect for the product even as it narrows the margin of profitability.

At the same time, this is a story that could and should be marketed to readers outside of DC’s traditional audience for super-hero comics. It’s by Smith, who has managed to appeal to both art-comics aficionados and a mainstream audience with his deservedly beloved Bone series. The finickiest connoisseur can appreciate the craft of Smith’s work while the reader picking up a graphic novel for the first time can get lost in the story.

And that’s basically what Smith does with Shazam! There are no barriers to entry into the world of the story; you don’t need any familiarity with the character to appreciate the story of a hard-luck kid being rewarded for his decency and thrown into a fantastical world of legendary heroes and bizarre monsters. It’s fun and imaginative and a little scary, and it looks great.

But I do wonder if the price tag will be an obstacle that keeps casual readers – who’d really enjoy it – from picking it up. It’s a general-audience story with Direct Market packaging and pricing, and those qualities seem to be in conflict.

On the one hand, DC seems to be dancing with the ones who brought them with a package that sits right at the top of the quality scale for single-issue publishing. And the price issue will probably be moot when the inevitable collections (hard- and soft-cover) come into play, because this is the kind of story that could reasonably be expected to fly off of bookstore shelves and go into heavy library circulation.

And really, the book is right in line with what a number of pundits have been begging for – a fun take on an iconic character that isn’t yoked to continuity or a self-consciously “mature” corporate tone. I’m sure that DC is perfectly well aware that the series of individual issues won’t reach its broadest potential audience and that they’re trying to maximize profits from all of its published iterations. That’s a sensible thing for a publisher to do, no matter how taken I am with the loss-leader model of anthologies or web-to-print.

So I guess the question I’m really asking is whether or not I’m willing to pay six bucks per issue.

Filed Under: DC

Express, rush hour and local

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A while back, I took a look at the competing manga versions of the Densha Otoko story. Having read the final volumes of the Viz and CMX variations, I thought I would follow up.

My initial impression stands. Of the three (Del Rey released a one-volume shôjo version), Hidenori Hara’s take, published by Viz, is the clear winner. It’s the most subdued of the three, and it’s also the most sincere. Hara seems to stand back and let the charm of the characters and the sweetness of their growing rapport do most of the work. The title otaku’s confidence builds gradually but credibly, and Hara takes the time to give depth of character to the object of Train Man’s affection, the lovely “Hermess.” She’s not just pretty and kind; she seems like an actual person, one with enough layers to carry infatuation beyond the “love at first sight” point.

Wataru Watanabe, creator of the CMX version, opts for what I’ll call the “explosive nosebleed” approach to the story. Train Man is constantly on the verge of panic; he’s a garden-variety shônen spastic who just can’t believe this is happening to him. I couldn’t really believe it either, honestly, unless his Hermess is the most intuitive and tolerant of women. (I find romances that rely on excessive intuition or tolerance of one of the parties involved a little hard to swallow.)

There are two other essential problems with Watanabe’s approach, as I see it. The first is the visual aesthetic, which is aggressively cute. Train Man and Hermess both look about fourteen, which ends up undermining any emotional weight the story has. And since the story verges on saccharine to begin with, extra dollops of adorability result in an oversell. It ends up looking like a fantasy instead of a contemporary fable.

The second is Watanabe’s decision to beef up the role of the message-board denizens who help Train Man cope with his insecurities and woo Hermess. This results in a lot of superfluous subplots that distract from what should be a simple story of unlikely people coming together. The impulse to give Train Man’s cheering section layers and happy endings of their own is generous, but it clutters things up.

It’s not a story that can withstand a lot of flourishes or extra baggage. Hara keeps it streamlined, so Viz wins.

The lingering question is whether three concurrent, licensed versions of a pleasant modern romance were absolutely necessary. From an artistic standpoint, I don’t think so. It’s a sweet urban myth about people being nice to strangers, which seems portable enough in times when people are casting about to find the next permutation of “community.”

From a marketing standpoint, I think the simultaneous releases made sense, because it pre-packages a phenomenon for an audience that isn’t already sold on the story’s benign merits. It capitalizes on the story itself and its origins, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the curiosity factor didn’t drive readers who might otherwise have been relatively disinterested to sample multiple versions. It worked for me.

(Comments are based on complimentary copies provided by CMX and Viz.)

Quick comic comments: Thirds

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After reading the third volume of Yû Watase’s Absolute Boyfriend (Viz – Shojo Beat), I think I’m done with this series. The love triangle that drives the story fails to make me care about any of the potential outcomes, mostly because Watase hasn’t convinced me that Night is an actual character. I’m not all that interested in the characters that aren’t custom-made love robots either. Even fluffy romantic comedies need some emotional suspense.

There’s also something creepy about supporting characters trying to stage the heroine’s first sexual experience for commercial purposes.

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On the other hand, Meca Tanaka’s Omukae Desu (CMX) invests pleasant, episodic diversion with some very appealing romantic tension with its third volume. Without sacrificing any of the appeal of the ghost-of-the-chapter structure of the stories, Tanaka is gradually adding more layers to the characterizations of her core cast.

I liked the book’s quartet of afterlife travel agents to begin with, so it’s very rewarding to see more shadings emerge. It gives their interactions more purpose and weight. The extra effort is also spilling over into the guest ghosts; the unfinished business that’s keeping them tethered to their old lives is more affecting because it’s more resonant for the people trying to help them move on.

Tanaka’s illustrations are becoming progressively more polished as the series moves along as well. I liked the loose, scratchy quality of the early chapters, and there’s still some of that in evidence, but it’s used more specifically for comic effect. It creates nice visual balance.

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And back on the subject of omake, both Tanaka and Watase cover the usual territory – overwork, side projects, and fan appreciation. The difference is that Tanaka seems to take a light, self-deprecating approach while Watase… Seriously, what’s going on with Watase? Sometimes they sound like messages from a political prisoner smuggled out of a manga sweatshop by an international aid agency.

First reading

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And here’s the Democrat-News report on the first reading of the materials selection policy at yesterday’s meeting of the Marshall Public Library Board. A final vote will follow at the next meeting of the board scheduled for March 17.

Two Marshall citizens contributed their views on the policy. One wore an “I Read Banned Books” button, and the other suggested that library patrons could “find these types of trash along I-70.” Ah, nuanced public discourse.

And here, for anyone curious, are the selection criteria that the library system uses:

“The factors are: constraints of budget; contemporary/social significance; critical acclaim; format and durability of material suitable for library use; local interest; patron requests; popular demand; reputation and significance of author, illustrator, editor, artist, performer, etc.; reputation/authority of author; scarcity of material on the subject and availability elsewhere; and/or timeliness and/or permanence or subject matter.”

Anyone care to play a round of Count the Applicable Criteria? I think Fun Home meets at least five, but I could never make it all the way through Blankets.

Nearing the finish line

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There was a more comprehensive preview of the Marshall Public Library’s proposed materials selection policy in yesterday’s Democrat-News.

Here’s the process the committee has designed:

  • A library patron submits a written request for reconsideration of material they find questionable.
  • After informing the library board of the request, the library director evaluates the material based on selection criteria, possibly seeking input from other parties.
  • The material in question will remain available on reserve for in-library use.
  • The library director will notify the patron of the decision regarding the request.
  • The patron can appeal the director’s decision to the library board if they disagree with the outcome, and the board’s decision will be final.

    • The library board was scheduled to review and possibly approve the policy proposal during last night’s meeting.

    Charts and graphs

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    Since Publishers Weekly Comics Week can’t seem to be bothered to offer commentary on their top ten comics for the month of January, I thought I’d take a stab at it.

    1. Death Note, Volume 9. Tsugumi Ohba. (Viz Media, $7.99 ISBN 978-142150630-2) With so much attention paid to “the Cartoon Network Effect,” it’s a little surprising to see a manga title rise to the top of a sales chart without a concurrent anime release acting as a driver. It’s less surprising that said title is Death Note, which combines a perpetually twisting, suspenseful narrative with excellent art.

    2. Fullmetal Alchemist, Volume 11. Hiromu Arakawa. (Viz Media, $9.99 ISBN 978-142150838-2) But it seems that the Cartoon Network Effect isn’t entirely irrelevant, even if airings of the Fullmetal Alchemist anime are sporadic and reserved for the wee hours of the morning.

    3. Vampire Knight, Volume 1. Matsuri Hino. (Viz Media, $8.99 ISBN 978-142150822-1) While Fruits Basket (Tokyopop) generally holds the title for highest sales chart shôjo placement, this new addition to Viz’s Shojo Beat line is the first series to join the serialization roster of the line’s monthly anthology since its launch in 2005.

    4. One Piece: It’s All Right!, Volume 13. Eiichiro Oda. (Viz Media, $7.95 ISBN 978-142150665-4) Is it the Saturday morning cartoon? The serialization in the Shonen Jump monthly anthology? Or do kids just love pirates?

    5. Black Cat, Volume 16. Kentaro Yabuki. (Viz Media, $7.99 ISBN 978-142150610-4) The second entry from Viz’s Shonen Jump line, with its $8 price point and action-rich stories.

    6. Ouran High School Host Club, Volume 8. Bisco Hatori. (Viz Media, $8.99 ISBN 978-142151161-0) Another Shojo Beat offering, though not one serialized in the anthology. The higher frequency of releases in Shojo Beat’s non-serialized titles (Yû Watase’s serialized Absolute Boyfriend only recently released its third volume) doesn’t seem to be hindering sales.

    7. Shaman King, Volume 11. Hiroyuki Takei. (Viz Media, $7.95 ISBN 978-142150678-4) Okay, maybe they don’t all beg for individual commentary. See comments for One Piece.

    8. Punch!, Volume 2. Rie Takada. (Viz Media, $8.99 ISBN 978-142150875-7) Um… ditto. See comments on Ouran High School Host Club.

    9. Inuyasha, Volume 28. Rumiko Takahashi. (Viz Media, $7.95 978-1421504681) While many women have had success in shônen manga (like Hiromu Arakawa above), Rumiko Takahashi remains one of the best examples with long-running hits like Inuyasha and the recently concluded Ranma ½.

    10. W Juliet, Volume 14. Emurai. (Viz Media, $9.99 ISBN 978-142150567-1) Shôjo releases don’t need to be new (or new-ish) to enjoy strong sales, as demonstrated by this long-running series.

    Comics Worth Reading and MangaBlog have also weighed in on the list.

    From the stack: Kitchen Princess

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    Kitchen Princess (Del Rey) is shôjo romantic comedy so formulaic you can practically read it with your eyes closed. A spirited country girl enrolls in a big-city private school, finding snooty rivals and romantic possibilities among the student body. Potential suitors include feuding relatives who are united only in their fondness for our heroine.

    In other words, it’s Imadoki! without the smartly overturned expectations, or Fruits Basket without the supernatural pathos. The art is cute, the protagonist is spunky, the boys are dreamy, and the plot moves from point to point with lockstep familiarity.

    Now would be the point to make a “cookie-cutter” joke, because the single distinguishing factor of Kitchen Princess is that it’s culinary manga. I’m a sucker for culinary manga. And while Kitchen Princess isn’t great culinary manga, recipes go a long way with me.

    I like the book’s underlying food philosophy – that cooking is a way to express affection and to share something that matters with someone you care about. It’s corny, but it’s sweet. But I really do hope that the story and characters deepen along the way and that something even remotely unexpected happens.

    Oh, and while I’m not entirely convinced that works of fiction lead to dangerous, imitative behavior, I’ve got to speak out on one subject. It would be great if reading manga motivated kids in the audience to learn to cook, but making caramel at home results in a substance roughly the temperature of molten lava and about as friendly to one’s epidermis. The story is perfectly safe for all ages, but the recipes require parental supervision.

    Grab bag

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    Stop it, manga! I haven’t received my tax refund yet! And you, western comics publishers… you’re not helping! At all!

    Tons of the stuff that was due out last week is actually arriving this week, along with a bunch of other stuff that I want. It’s going to be a bloodbath.

    The first culprit is Dark Horse, which unleashes new volumes of Eden: It’s an Endless World!, Mail, and The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service, any one of which could vie for “pick of the week” status. I’m also very curious about the first volume of Red String by Gina Biggs, the first volume of a collection of a shôjo-influenced webcomic.

    I can’t remember the last time I was really excited by the prospect of a monthly from DC, but I’m really looking forward to Shazam: The Monster Society of Evil. My interest in the character probably peaked with the live-action Saturday-morning show that ran when I was about eight (and even then I preferred Isis), but it’s Jeff Smith doing a comic that doesn’t apparently require consumption of an anti-depressant to get through it. It sounds like exactly the kind of friendly-to-a-wider-audience treatment of an iconic character that some bloggers have been wanting.

    And Dark Horse doesn’t own the helping-the-dead manga category this week. CMX has a new volume of Omukae Desu.

    I remember reviewing the first two volumes of Category: Freaks (DrMaster) about a year ago, and the third volume is just coming out now? I’ll have to put it on the “check it out when time and disposable income permit” list.

    Escape from “Special” by Miss Lasko-Gross (Fantagraphics) will also go on that list. It sounds intriguing, and who can resist exuberant, demographically sensitive solicitation text like this: “Miss Lasko-Gross, who has the sensibility of a love child of Linda Barry and David B. midwifed by Judy Blume, has created a graphic novel that should appeal not only to the growing readers of graphic novels, but to teens grappling with similar unresolved questions.” Not me, that’s for sure.

    Oni releases the second issue of the very appealing Maintenance, a workplace comedy about custodians at a mad-scientist think tank.

    Viz delivers the Shojo Beat titles that were initially scheduled for release last week, along with the final volume of Train Man: Densha Otoko, my favorite of the competing manga adaptations of the story.

    Wild things

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    This week’s Flipped is up, devoted entirely to Wild Adapter (Tokyopop). The bad news is that the book isn’t the long-awaited, salacious biography of Jake Forbes. The good news is that it’s still mighty entertaining.

    Weekend reading

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    While John Jakala was playing “Just Imagine: Clamp” this weekend, I was reading actual Clamp. I had a coupon, and I’ve been meaning to read further into xxxHOLiC (Del Rey) to see if it clicks for me, because the first two volumes seemed to be right on the border between “oooh” and “eh.”

    After reading the third and fourth volumes, the series is still straddling that damned border. The book is gorgeous, and I love the subject matter, but something is keeping me from loving it. It’s not the crossover elements with Tsubasa (also Del Rey), though my thoughts wander to grocery lists and scheduling an oil change when they come up. It’s not that I have yet to come up with a mnemonic device to remind me how to capitalize the title.

    It’s that stupid Watanuki. He’s so whiny and shrill and emotionally tone deaf to the people around him. I’m sure he becomes less irritating as the series progresses, because he’d have to, but how much more can I endure before that happens? I’m torn between wanting Dômeki to just kiss him because it would shut Watanuki up, however briefly, and wanting much better for Dômeki.

    I do love just about everything about Yûko – her impeccable fashion sense, her bottomless appetite for libations, her languid cruelty. Put simply, she rocks, and I can even forgive her for constantly creating new reasons for Watanuki to sputter and whine, because I suspect he’d do those things without any kind of external stimulus.

    Okay, he’s not entirely obnoxious and ridiculous. There are brief moments when his behavior isn’t akin to fingernails on a chalkboard. But those moments are fleeting.

    It’s strange, because I spent a good portion of the weekend wondering how Kazuya Minekura had made what should have been a repellant protagonist so fascinating in Wild Adapter, and I’d almost used my coupon on some early volumes of Saiyuki instead, but I didn’t. And now I’m forced to ponder how Clamp has managed to make what should have been a sympathetic protagonist so grating.

    Or is it just me?