By Yoshihiro Tatsumi
Drawn and Quarterly, 840 pp.
Rating: Older Teen 16+

Gekiga is undoubtedly one of the most formative art forms to ever have reached the pages of manga. Much like how serious American comics are referred to as graphic novels, gekiga became the “dramatic pictures” of Japan. When the art form first surfaced in the post-World War II period, Manga was largely regarded as a children’s medium, focusing mainly on lighter, silly stories rather than anything gritty. Gekiga was really the driving force in maturing the art form in both artist and reader, giving manga a much-needed sense of realism. Gekiga drove series like Golgo 13 and Barefoot Gen into fruition.

Yoshihiro Tatsumi, given the title “The Grandfather of Japanese alternative comics,” originally coined this phrase in a means to get his works seriously recognized amongst a sea of Disney wannabes (sorry, Tezuka). His book, A Drifting Life, follows Tatsumi from boyhood to his adult stages as a budding manga artist and ultimately the purveyor of alterative Japanese comics. This book did debut a while ago, but was it worth the wait?

Having only reading one of Tatsumi’s works (The Push Man and Other Stories), I had a very skewed idea of his writing and art style, which at times can be kind of blasé and flat. A Drifting Life really breaks out of that lackluster style and shows his potential and reach as an artist. Though Tatsumi has depicted himself as a very plain person, much like his everyman protagonists in his gekiga stories (maybe an attempt to insert us into his life?), the supporting characters have a range of features. His brother, Sakura, who is sick for a majority of the first half of the book, is shown with sunken-in cheeks and eyes that match his often-sour disposition. There is also a great amount of detail put into the depictions of the other gekiga artists; for instance, Takao Saito is often seen with a classic beret while Masaaki Sato is given curly locks of hair that reinforce the sense of youth and vigor that Tatsumi sees in him.

Other highlights of the book are its historical perspectives. Not only do we understand Tatsumi’s growth in writing, art and motivations to start the gekiga art form, we get to see the birth and boom of the manga industry. Tatsumi ultimately starts his career as a manga artist quite young—while he is still in middle school, he submits comedic koma work to Manga Shonen, Manga Yomimono, etc., and grows up on the crest of a wave that is Tezuka’s genius. The book then moves along to discuss the introduction of short-story books and how they ultimately affected the industry (which was largely monetized by rental shops at the time) and how Tatsumi fits into the picture. It is supremely fascinating to watch him grow as an artist; he has this unexplainable sense of passion and drive that I envy so much. At times during the book, he is an unstoppable drawing machine, sacrificing countless days and nights to churn out page after page.

Though this is exhilarating to watch and certainly extremely inspiring to read (I am trying to write and draw comics of my own), there is a hint of disappointment throughout the whole novel. A tone of depression pervades the book as the reader explores Tatsumi’s family problems, sick brother, and trouble with the opposite sex. Most of the chapters conclude on a very sad note, usually with Tatsumi ending up in some position he feels he isn’t ready for. This is nice every once and again, but it grows old after awhile and brings quite a somber feel to the book.

Personally, I really appreciate Tatsumi’s style of writing, with its subtle nuances and undertones of subversion. I wish we’d been able to see more of it. Throughout the book we see him create story after story, though we never get to see more than an interesting title and a few teasing panels. The pieces he labors on so ambitiously are never revealed to the audience, leaving a gap in the story. How can we understand his growth from small-town boy to full-fledged artist without a chance to view any of the works he produced along the way? Wouldn’t that make a biography feel empty, almost incomplete? I feel as though I was being shown a mirage of a wonderful but seemingly unknowable artist.

Ultimately, I would make A Drifting Life required reading to anyone who is seriously interested in comics on any coast, especially the professionals at DC and Marvel. It’s a must-read for anyone who considers comics an art form, though I wouldn’t recommend it as your first Tatsumi experience. The book won’t make a lot of sense unless you take the time to carefully read his collected works (The Push Man and Other Stories, Abandon the Old in Tokyo and Goodbye) and have a previous understanding of where he is coming from. So go out and buy them and learn about comics!

A Drifting Life is available now.

Review copy provided by the publisher.