Susan says next month is Asian Heritage Month, so the theme this week is Asian and Asian-American creators. And since manga is not exactly something I’m knowledgeable about, I’ll stick to discussing comics by Asian-Americans.

Two of the most prominent AA creators right now are Derek Kirk Kim and Gene Luen Yang. The former is Korean, the latter Chinese, and both creators weave elements of their respective cultures in their work while keeping them accessible to all audiences.

Kim’s books, like Same Difference and Other Stories, are marked by a love of geek culture and the awkwardness of young adult relationships. His autobiographical stories have a self-depreciating humor that also pokes fun at certain unusual aspects of Korean life. He can take on a variety of art styles, and the anthology Same Difference alternates from the semi-realistic style of the title story to a broad, almost diagrammatic technique for some of his single-page gag strips.

Yang’s books, like the critically-acclaimed American Born Chinese, have a more spiritual bent to them, though they stop short of proselytizing. CO and Worducopia readers may recall that ABC made history in 2006 by becoming the first graphic novel to be nominated for a National Book Award.

The two recently teamed up to create a new graphic novel anthology, The Eternal Smile. I just finished reading it. While I think the three stories in this book rely a little too much on the M. Night Shyamalan-like twist (which Yang did use to magnificent effect in ABC), it’s still enjoyable enough to serve as an introduction to the two creators’ work if you’ve never read them before.

In addition: Adrian Tomine has done a variety of quiet, introspective relationship comics, including his long-running series Optic Nerve… My friend Stan Yan makes humor comics, my favorite being The Wang. He really has gotten better and better as an artist over the years, so if you like raunchy-yet-geeky humor, give his comics a try… This spring has seen the release of an anthology of AA talent called Secret Identities. (Here’s an interview with one of the editors.) Haven’t read it yet, but the buzz is positive… The first time I saw Jen Wang‘s work, it was as part of the phenomenal anthology Flight, and I thought she was one of the brightest spots of what is by all accounts a superlative collection of young comics talent.

And while I’m not that much into manga, there is one manga that I’ve read that left a huge impression on me: Eagle: The Making of an Asian-American President by Kaiji Kawaguchi. Long before America even heard of Barack Obama, here was a story of a minority running for – and winning – the White House. Written during the Clinton administration, some of it may seem dated, especially in this post 9-11 world, but it does a superb job of chronicling the suspense of a political campaign, with all the double dealing, intrigue, highs and lows that come with it.

By Maki Minami
Published by Viz
Rating: 13+

I had a very vitriolic reaction to Special A. I feel more strongly about the title than Katherine did in her review of volume one.

Hikari’s life-long rival is Kei, who has driven the working-class Hikari to attend a school for the super-rich (sort of like Boys Before Flowers, but unfortunately lacking in class conflict). The school is ruled by an elite group of the top seven ranking students whom everyone admires (sort of like Kare Kano). The “Special A” as it is called, does not attend class, and spends their time drinking tea in a fabulous greenhouse on the school grounds (kind of like Ouran High School Host Club).

I have two major problems with this series:

Problem #1 Too many characters are introduced too quickly. All seven Special A students are introduced in an illustrated dramatis persona two page spread in the front of each book starting with volume three. Some of the details listed are hilariously irrelevant; Tadashi has “wanderlust” and Ryuu is the son of the owner of a sporting goods store, but as of volume four these details do not impact the story. With such a large cast, it’s hard to tell characters apart (some of the boys have nearly identical metrosexual hair), but instead of developing characters one at a time, Minami introduces additional characters; Kei has a random cousin who is in love with him (apparently a common problem in manga-Japan), Kei’s little brother is a pest, troublemakers Yahiro and Sakura become regulars, until finally in volume three we start getting some backstory for Tadashi (ranked 5th, the school director’s son). With so many major characters, I don’t see a need to introduce external conflict until we understand the relationship between all seven regulars.

Problem #2 I think we the readers are supposed to be laughing at Hikari’s “hilarious” efforts to defeat Kei at something, anything, but I sympathize so much with Hikari that I just can’t laugh at her. I desperately want Hikari to win. I’m fairly certain that the author presumes you the reader will concede that Kei is Hikari’s athletic and intellectual superior and Hikari is a fool to try and compete with a boy, but isn’t that misogynist?

It gets worse – as the price for losing one contest, Kei decrees that Hikari make him an onigiri (rice ball) to fulfill his desire to eat homemade food prepared with love, something he is too rich to have experienced firsthand in his life so far. Hikari’s training as a wrestling fanatic (see volume one) has left her with super-strength but no cooking ability. She tries her best to make onigiri for Kei, but she’s so strong that when washing the rice she grinds it into powder. Let me get this straight: Hikari is not very feminine because she can’t cook. Kei wants to eat an onigiri made by her because he loves her, but also so she can fulfill the role of his mother. GROSS!

Hikari is clueless about how Kei feels about her, no matter if Yahiro tells her Kei loves her and regardless of how many times Kei kisses her. Her cluelessness is supposed to be funny, but because Hikari is ranked second in her class I just can’t buy that she’s also some kind of an idiot. Maybe I’m taking this way too personally since I was salutatorian of my high school class. My friends in those days called me “smart but oblivious”.

I want S.A. to be better. I want it to tackle class issues and discuss talent versus hard work. I want the Special A characters besides Hikari to attend class or at least study. For example, I have a hard time buying that being the son of the president of a sporting goods store makes you a math genius by default. In volume six we learn more about Kei’s photographic memory, which gives him a severe advantage in life but also makes him isolated from his peers. I want to cheer for Hikari like I cheer for Rock Lee in Naruto – Rock Lee has no chakra, Hikari does not have a photographic memory.

In volume five the Akira (daughter of an airline president) flies Hikari to London to stop Kei from transferring schools. Heretofore, the rich S.A. members have used their wealth for extravagant vacations and school festivals, but not to service the plot. In the same chapter, Hikari uses her superior athletic ability to jump the fence of Kei’s family mansion and outrun the security guards. Meanwhile Ryu, who loves animals, tempts away the guard dogs. I suddenly wished every chapter of S.A. was more like Richie Rich, (or how I imagine Richie Rich to be without actually reading it).

I want the art to be better. Minami often draws outline-y stick figure-y things for non-important characters. Katherine praised the background detail and character designs, and mentioned that the characters are recognizable in chibi form, but I disagree. I had a hard time separating Yahiro from Kei in several volumes. Yahiro is particularly hard to identify in volume five, where he has stopped acting evil (his characteristic trait is suddenly dropped).

I recently revisited Ouran High School Host Club for Otaku USA, and as I re-read volume one I realized that in Ouran the jokes are actually funny and each page – each panel is crammed with antics and busy with screentone. S.A. introduces backgrounds and establishes setting better than something like Wild Ones, but then it relies on screentone to fill gaps. S.A.‘s jokes aren’t that funny either. Hikari wears a rabbit costume for large sections of volume five and it’s just not funny.

I actually hate S.A. and I’m not sure why I keep reading it. Is it because I said I would review volume four and went back and bought volumes two and three? Maybe it’s because I didn’t get it reviewed in time and two more volumes came out so I thought I would read them to be current. Or maybe there are other, darker reasons:

Possible Reasons why Erin Keeps Buying/Reading S.A.:

1. Hoping to sell it on ebay as a complete set as if it’s an “investment” (The series in Japan is up to volume 13 and may be ongoing.)
2. Secretly hoping it will get better
3. Interested in seeing the surprising new ways Minami can offend me with misogyny
4. Building up a case against it so I can deprogram any S.A. fans, should I ever meet one
5. Hoping Hikari will eventually beat Kei

In the depth of my bizarre S.A. madness I watched five episodes of the anime series, which is currently airing in Japan. The anime is uninspired and modestly budgetted. It’s easier to tell the characters apart and some of the jokes are funnier. It is doggedly loyal to the manga, which is at best mediocre.

Here’s a very brief summary of events for each volume of the manga from two on:

Vol. 2 – Student council problem, wrestling, Hikari makes lunch, two school festivals, Hikari plays some sports, is invited to Yahiro’s party

Vol. 3 – A big foot race, a trip to Hawaii over summer vacation, Kei has a date with Tadashi (Tadashi’s backstory)

Vol.4 – Kei gets sick and Hikari nurses him, the S.A. goes to a regular school, Akria’s backstory, Kei has an omiai with Sakura

Vol. 5 – On a BBQ trip Sakura likes Jun and unleashes his other self (Jun’s backstory), Hikai cross-dresses in an attempt to ruin Kei’s omiai, Hikari wears a rabbit costume for a tour of another school, the S.A. go to London to stop Kei from transferring, the S.A. act as a host club at a cultural festival

Vol. 6 – Ogata tries to seduce Hikari away from Kei so he’ll transfer schools, Hikari makes Kei and Ogata dinner, Kei and Hikari skip school to go on a date to an amusement park, Hikari realizes she loves Kei but overhears “Whoever falls [in love] first loses”, Hikari is ranked 13th after midterms, Hikari and Kei are put in charge of rival teams on for the sports festival

By volume four the rivalry has fallen to the wayside in favor of the love story. I can’t tell you how angry it makes me that Hikari drops to 13th in her class as soon as she figures out she loves Kei (and by “figures out” I mean, “Kei points it out to her”). In Kare Kano Yukino and Soichiro’s class rankings both drop when they start dating (Yukino’s drops more because she’s the girl I guess) but in S.A. Kei stays at number one.

S.A. feels like a direct rip off of Ouran and Kare Kano, but with the good parts painfully removed.

Volumes 1-6 of S.A. are available now.

By Negi Banno
Yen Press, 128 pp.
Rating: Older Teen

The fact that I am not the intended audience for this title was made readily apparent when the eight-page color illustration collection in the front of the book contained not only a hot springs scene (complete with buoyant bosoms), but also an image of a character looking shocked to be discovered in the act of clutching a skimpy towel around her nude and glistening body while fellating a melting popsicle (as you do).

There’s not as much concentrated fanservice in the manga itself, at least. It’s the story of long-time friends Izumi Maki and Nagumo Yuko who return to their former high school as Physical Education and Japanese teachers, respectively. There, they meet and befriend fellow teachers Arai and Karasuma. The back cover promises “hilariously juvenile” behavior from this quartet, and while the content certainly delivers on the latter part of the bargain, there isn’t much hilarity in evidence.

The Astro in the title stands for Asashio Sogo Teachers ROom, but the characters hardly spend any time there at all. Much of the action takes place outside of school, like going out drinking or viewing cherry blossoms. Events occurring at school are usually outside the classroom, which is a shame, since my favorite bits are those where they were actually doing their jobs, administering tests and devising trick questions with which to trip up the students.

Because S. S. Astro is a four-panel manga that takes place in a school setting, it’s inevitable that it will get compared to Azumanga Daioh, and there are indeed some similarities. Each of the characters has one single trait that becomes the punchline for most strips featuring them (chronic sleepiness, a voracious appetite, predatory lesbianism). Female characters dominate and most of the adult males who appear are cretins. Both series also have a surfeit of annoying characters, but with S. S. Astro it’s more a case of characters who can be interesting one moment and irritating the next.

The art isn’t bad, though often these twenty-something women appear far younger. Maki, in particular, has a tendency to look twelve. Questionable content aside, the best art is to be found in the color illustrations, especially the character portraits in the very front that resemble ID badges. Care has clearly been taken with the translation, including signs and sound effects, and very informative translation notes have been included. The overall feel of the book is quite nice, with a slimmer width and slightly larger trim size than usual to set it apart from the crowd.

Lastly, a brief preview for Suzunari is included in the back of the book; Yen Press would like you to know that it also features boobs.

Volume one of S. S. Astro is available now.

By Iqura Sugimoto
Published by CMX
Rating: Mature (18+)

A young girl named Aiko awakens after witnessing her parents brutal murder at the hands of an inhuman beast called a Chimera, to find that her left arm has been altered by the experience. Picked from the hospital by the shadowy organization known as Atheos, Aiko is given a choice. Aid them in battling, capturing and studying the Chimera, or become a test subject herself. Can Aiko survive the battles with the Chimeras? Where do they come from? What is Atheos? And why does her left arm seem to be constructed of Chimera cells? The dark, grim series of Variante holds the answers!

This is not a happy series. Right from the get go things are grim with the slaughter of Aiko’s family and the weirdness of her left arm. Aiko spends a good chunk of the first volume in tears, being miserable and lonely, and basically wanting to die. It’s kind of understandable considering all the insanely horrible things that happen to her. Thankfully she gets a bit more proactive in the subsequent volumes, but she never quite takes control of the situation in the way one would hope. Instead she essentially allows herself to be used as a weapon to battle the Chimeras, trying to convince herself that this is a reason for living while crushing on one of her captors, an investigator known as Sudo. The reason for this is pretty easy, while everyone else treats her like a living weapon or a subject for experimentation, or even something to be feared, Sudo’s the only one who treats her like a person and who doesn’t want her to die. The reasons for this are many and ultimately ties into an ugly head band he wears all the time.

Of course there are also dozens of mysteries and twists, most of them coming in the final two volumes: the secret behind Atheos, what’s up with Aiko’s arm, why Sudo always wears that head band, and why he cares about what happens to Aiko so much. All of those questions, plus mysteries that were so deeply hidden they seemingly come out of nowhere, are all answered by the final climatic volume. Sadly the ultimate end is yet another downer!

Sugimoto’s art is actually pretty good. There’s a nice mixture of cross-hatching and toning that works well here, giving the artwork a unique feel to it that helps convey the rather bleak world of the series. The designs of the Chimeras and Aiko’s left arm are very organic looking, perhaps a bit too organic–at times it can be difficult to differentiate various parts and bits of their anatomy. They tend to look like flesh grown willy-nilly at times, or perhaps cancerously, with large bumpy flesh, flesh stretching like a bats wing, mouths where there shouldn’t be any, that kind of thing. They’re certainly weird looking and freaky. Sugimoto also does a fantastic job at the scenes of carnage that fill the book. Bodies flayed and dismembered, rooms turned to rubble, destroyed vehicles and the like, all look really amazing here. The action scenes are few and far between which leaves a lot of the character interaction and various mysteries to carry the book, and thankfully Sugimoto’s artwork works there as well. While the anatomy at times can look a little bit off, Sugimoto does a very good job at getting characters emotional states across via their facial expressions. You can practically see Aiko’s lip trembling at times.

It’s a hard series to recommend because it’s quite a downer. Aiko just has one horrible thing happen to her after another, especially in the first volume. It really got to a point where I was muttering, “You’ve got to be kidding me,” to myself at times. After the depressing first volume it does pick up a bit, but it’s still not exactly a fun, happy adventure by any means. Horror fans might enjoy it, though the angst factor is kind of high and that could be turn off for many.

All four volumes of Variante are available now.

By Rumiko Takahashi
Published by Viz
Rating: Older Teen (16+)

When you hear Rumiko Takahashi’s name, what do you think of? Action/romance comedies have always been Takahashi’s strong suit, though her series tend to be extremely lengthy. (Ranma ½ was 38 volumes, while Urusei Yatsura was 34 volumes!) To the serious collector, this isn’t a hassle, but to the casual reader, keeping up with a long series can be expensive and tiresome. That’s where the four-volume One-Pound Gospel comes in. Takahashi began One Pound Gospel in the 1980s, after she completed another short story collection, the four-volume Mermaid Saga. She worked on Gospel over the next twenty years, finishing the final chapter in 2007. Viz has just begun re-issuing the complete run in a new, unflipped edition that offers new readers a short and sweet entrée to Takahashi’s work.

Volume one introduces us to Kosaku Hatanaka, a fledging boxer with immense talent. Despite his powerhouse punches, Kosaku can’t seem to make weight for his fights due to his inability to control his appetite. To make matters worse, he has fallen for Sister Angela, a local nun-in-training who’s made it her mission to save this “lost lamb.” The volume is a good introduction to the story, setting up Kosaku’s relationship with his coaches, Sister Angela, and the world of boxing.

Kosaku is looked down upon as a professional because of his inability to keep his weight down. (His binges sometimes cause him to throw up during a match, earning him the nickname “The Hurler.”) He almost never lands a match and when he does, it’s usually a crazed boxer out to teach Kosaku a lesson. Kosaku’s coaches are constantly trying to help him (having him sleep in the gym, adding extra weight to his scale, etc.) but end up giving up on him as a lost cause. Kosaku redeems himself with a few wins but is back to his old ways by the end of the book. It’s the kind of cute story telling that Rumiko Takahashi uses to flesh out her characters in series like Maison Ikkoku, but it wears on you with One-Pound Gospel.

Volume two is more of the same hijinks. Kosaku gets a match with his former Pro Test opponent, a toothless mongrel who has become obsessed with humiliating Kosaku. It was good direction for Rumiko to take, giving us more insight into Kosaku’s past life and his effect on others. After that episode, Kosaku encounters a boxer, who, despite his talent, is afraid of the sport. Through sheer willpower and another proposition to Sister Angela (this time to live together!), Kosaku convinces his cowardly opponent to fight and the two duke it out. Volume two was surprisingly stronger because the boxing matches hold deeper emotions and meaning than in volume one. Volume two also delves into Sister Angela’s life at the nunnery, introducing us to the Mother Superior.

Altogether, One-Pound Gospel is a good condensed version of Takahashi’s works. The characters reveal themselves through their actions: Kosaku’s inability to stop eating, Angela’s motherly ways, and the Coach’s worrisome antics all speak for the characters more than flashbacks could. The story itself is also very appealing, as Takahashi uses technical elements from the actual sport, acting almost like an educational guide. At times the story seems repetitive, as Kosaku’s binges can become annoying, making the reader wonder when he’ll learn.

Much like Zombie Powder or Bustu Zone, One-Pound Gospel represents a transitional period in a very popular manga-ka’s journey as a storyteller and artist. Though One Pound Gospel is a good read, it’s obviously not on par with Maison Ikkoku or Ranma ½. If you’re an intensive manga reader, you’ll enjoy seeing Takahashi at an earlier stage in her career; if you’re new to Takahashi’s work, One Pound Gospel makes a good introduction to her unique comedic storytelling.

Volumes one and two of One Pound Gospel are available now.

Aspirin, Vol. 1

By Eun-Jeong Kim
Tokyopop, 200 pp.
Rating: Older Teen (16+)

Naming a manhwa Aspirin is a bit like naming a movie D.O.A.: if it’s good, no one will think twice about the title; if it’s bad, all but the most restrained critics will have a field day riffing on the title. Alas, Aspirin falls into the latter category owing to a headache-inducing combination of stale jokes, ugly artwork, and confusing storylines.

The set-up is pure shonen. Ondar, a not-so-bright young man, finds himself on a quest to round up the four “Direction Gods,” a quartet of powerful demons accidentally released from captivity by the bumbling King Dan-Goon. Should he accomplish his mission, Ondar will marry the king’s daughter; if he fails, he’ll be permanently exiled from the kingdom. Helping Ondar on his quest is the foul-mouthed, foul-tempered Haemosoo, a demon hunter and inveterate womanizer whose romantic conquests cause almost as many complications for the pair as the Direction Gods themselves. As one might infer from my summary, Ondar and Haemosoo’s mission is really just a pretext for extended fight scenes and wacky hijinks. Reading many of the chapters, it’s easy to forget who, exactly, the pair are supposed to be hunting, as they engage in hand-to-hand combat with a wizard named David Cupperfield, a pistol-packing nun, and a pair of high-kicking twins who appear to have escaped from Street Fighter Alpha. The artwork does little to clarify the story; too many pages are marred by clashing patterns, heavy speed lines, and grotesque close-ups of shouting characters. By the end of volume one, I found myself reaching for something stronger than aspirin to purge the memory of this unfunny train wreck.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Samurai Champloo: The Complete Series

Created by manglobe, Written and Illustrated by Masaru Gotsubo
Tokyopop, 352 pp.
Rating: Teen (13 +)

Samurai Champloo: The Complete Seriescollects volumes one and two of the Samurai Champloo manga, a series of short stories involving the trio of Jin, Mugen and Fuu that otaku know and love from the anime series of the same name. The manga contains a short remake of the first episode, showing how the three characters fall in together and the beginning of their search for Fuu’s mysterious “Sunflower Samurai,” but aside from that, it contains new and original tales set during their journey.

It’s an OK read. None of the stories are particularly amazing, though a few are interesting enough to make me wish that they had been turned into episodes, particularly a two-parter involving a Russian otaku. Most of the stories split the group up, focusing on one or two of the trio, while others seemingly focus on new original characters with the trio stumbling into their stories. The art is nice and loose, managing to convey a nice sense of movements and action while resembling the anime’s style (without being beholden to it). In addition to the stories there’s also some nifty extras tossed in: two short letters from the Tokyopop editor for the series, a sketchbook section, and a bonus volume involving zombies.

The bottom line: fans jonesing for more of Fuu, Mugen and Jin might want to give Samurai Champloo a look, but don’t expect new revelations or character development.

–Reviewed by Ken Haley

Sola, Vol. 1

Art by Chaco Abeno, Story by Naoki Hisaya, Character Designs by Naru Nanao
Broccoli Books, 216 pp.
Rating: Teen (13+)

There’s an unspoken understanding among otaku that manga adaptations of popular anime leave something to be desired: think of the Cowboy Bebop or Wolf’s Rain manga, both of which are pallid imitations of the originals. I haven’t seen the thirteen-episode anime on which Sola is based, though I’m guessing it’s a more satisfying experience than reading its poorly paced adaptation. The manga unfolds in a herky-jerky fashion, with tedious slice-of-life scenes punctuated by occasional fights and off-putting panels of fanservice featuring girls in towels, ridiculously short skirts, and thigh-high patent leather boots. (Because when you’re facing an unspeakable evil, nothing says “ready for combat” like fierce footwear and a garter belt.) The action scenes are surprisingly static; characters spend more time striking dramatic or provocative poses than they do inflicting damage on one another.

About the best I can say for Sola is that Broccoli Books has done a first-rate job with the packaging, offering fans the kind of bells and whistles that are all too scarce on this side of the Pacific: gorgeous full-color plates, high quality paper stock, and a generous assortment of bonus features that includes translator’s notes, gag manga, character sketches, and a detailed synopsis of the anime. The translation isn’t too bad, though the text includes a few typos and unintentional howlers. (One character describes her first shopping trip as a “revolution,” a sentiment that would strike most Marxists as terribly bourgeois.) The bottom line: anime buffs and moe enthusiasts may want to add Sola to their collection, but most manga readers won’t find much to love except the cover art.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Togari, Vol. 6

By Yoshinori Natsume
Viz, 200 pp.
Rating: T + (Older Teens)

Returned to earth after spending centuries in hell as punishment for his evil ways, Tobei is now tasked with hunting down and returning 108 sins that have escaped Hell. Armed with the mystic sword Togari he must face the challenges of the 21st first century while tracking down these supernatural entities. But is this job an offer or redemption, or another form of punishment?

Togari is a fairly straightforward action series: kid on a quest who slowly begins to discover things about himself. In this volume, we see him beginning to notice some internal changes in the way he relates to people and the world. Where once he was an angry monster of a boy, he’s now beginning to connect and relate to others. Of course the catch is, the nicer and less hateful he becomes, the less powerful Togari seems to be. Manga-ka Yoshinori Natsumue’s artwork is actually really lovely. (DC junkies may recognize his name as the creator of CMX’s Batman: Death Mask.) There’s a nice angular feel to it at times, and he mixes cross-hatching and toning for shading to wonderful effect. The action sequences can be a bit iffy at times, but I get the feeling that comes more from the nature of the fights in this volume (creatures made out of water and smoke) than the art itself.

–Reviewed by Ken Haley

Very! Very! Sweet, Vol. 1

By JiSang Shin and Geo
Yen Press, 176 pp.
Rating: Teen

If you had stripped this book of all identifying marks and given it to me to read, I never would’ve guessed it was from the same creative team behind Rolling, which I reviewed in last week’s Manga Minis column. It’s got solid characterization for one thing, and a plot that looks like it’ll actually go somewhere!

Both of the main characters are likable in their own way. Be-Ri is an animal-lover who’s raising money to protect some land from development. She’s obsessively frugal and has the awesome hobby of collecting junk to refurbish and sell online. Tsuyoshi is a coddled rich boy who has been sent to Korea by his grandfather as a way to curb his misbehavior. He comes across as bratty, but isn’t really all that bad. Any teen who is willing to heed the earnest advice of his mother earns points in my book.

Although Be-Ri and Tsuyoshi get off on the wrong foot, the potential for each to positively impact the other’s life is easy to spot. A couple other things I like about the story are the deftly handled love polygon forming between several of the characters and the way Tsuyoshi’s partial grasp of Korean is portrayed. His dialogue makes sense, but is imperfect, resulting in sentences like, “I also discomfort.”

To be sure, there are some rough spots, but the charm of the series remains intact despite the clunky expository dialogue and irrational grandpas. I look forward to seeing how the story will unfold.

–Reviewed by Michelle Smith

By Minoru Murao
Published by DMP
Rating: Young Adults (16+)

The less attached to Christianity you are, the more you might enjoy Knights, which takes place during a time period no organized religion would be proud to claim: the age of mass purging known as “witch hunt hysteria.”

As innocent people are subjected to sham trials, sentenced to death, and burned alive, hope comes to the fictional kingdom of Excludo in the form of Mist, a squire willing to defy the knights’ oath to serve the church. In fact, Mist takes his fight against the witch hunts very seriously, having known the downside of religious intolerance all his life. Although skilled enough to be a knight, he has always been treated as an outsider due to his dark skin, and is reasonably surprised when Nina, a daughter of nobility whom he saves from the witches’ pyre in the series’ first adventure, takes a fancy to him.

Knights, however, is more interested in smiting those who would use the public’s fear of witchcraft to acquire wealth and power than in romance. Too bad the adventures themselves are mediocre at best: writer/artist Minoru Murao has trouble settling on a consistent tone, there are logic gaps, and the villains – who are, of course, all Christians – are too over-the-top evil to be interesting.

Throughout volume one, the heroes run afoul of vile priests, as well as a self-righteous saint with lethal hair, who kills a woman for doubting her own impurity – even though the method by which she had been judged was clearly inaccurate. That scene was a bit much, and I had a similar to reaction to all of Murao’s men and women of the cloth and/or cross. They’re not just misguided, but depicted as masochistic; not just evil, but gleefully, sneeringly so. Unfortunately, by making these characters into one-dimensional caricatures, lengthy fight scenes involving them become downright torturous to read.

Meanwhile, there are occasional story glitches that can leave readers scratching their heads: in one chapter, Mist approaches a tower where Nina is being held prisoner inside; the only windows are about three stories high, and, as another knight tells him, the doors are locked from inside. Mist does eventually get in by leaping through one of the aforementioned windows, but how he managed this miraculous feat is never explained.

On the plus side, the art is suitably flashy whenever the broadswords get broken out, and at one point, Murao does an effective job cutting back-and-forth between Mist and his partner Euphemia, who are each battling magically-powered creatures. Yet I will be eternally curious why a character like Euphemia – a scantily-dressed “witch” who releases aphrodisiacs into the air, then has sex with everyone – had to be included at all. Not only does her costume, which is essentially a cape and some pasties, contrast drastically with the seemingly-authentic-looking medieval garb around her, her motif of spontaneous orgies feels downright silly next to Knights’ otherwise dead-serious tone. Perhaps the creator is hoping it has a be-witching effect on male teenage audiences.

Volume one of Knights is available now.

Cy-Believers, Vol. 2

By Shioko Mizuki
Go! Comi, 200pp.
Rating: 16+

The second installment of Shioko’s Mizuki’s Cy-Believers is, if nothing else, a stellar example of bad transitioning and plot rehabilitation. The first hundred or so pages cruise along amiably through situational comedy until, out of seemingly nothing, a curveball last chapter manages to scare up some drama, tension and secrecy that presumably will bridge the series into future installments.

Which begs the question: why spend two and a half volumes treading water only to suddenly try and ground this airy, gag strip-eqsue comedy in something of substance? Almost the entirety of the volume is given over to yet more comedic, meanderingly pointless episodes involving everygirl Rui and her attractively nerdy compatriots until the arrival of Rui’s creeper of a father provides an excuse for change. And change it does, as suddenly everything is not as it seems, otherwise known as time to air some family laundry–much-needed plot development, to be sure, but also one hell of a right turn for the series. The art style, however, remains hopelessly mired in the same ambiguous toned world of its predecessor, showcasing Mizuki’s ability to sketch characters but not backgrounds well. Granted, Cy-Believers is no longer a plotless wonder, but do you really need two volumes of filler to get there?

–Reviewed by Chloe Ferguson

Goong: The Royal Palace, Vol. 2

By Park So Hee
Yen Press, 200 pp.
Rating: Teen (13+)

Goong: The Royal Palace unfolds in an alternate version of present-day Korea, one that still boasts a Windsor-esque royal family. The story focuses on commoner Chae-Kyung, a high school student who marries the next in line to the Korean throne. Just as Diana Spence did in real life, Chae-Kyung discovers that being a princess isn’t glamorous, as her day-to-day life is filled with palace intrigue, onerous civic responsibilities, jealous classmates, and an indifferent husband who’s in love with someone else. (At least Crown Prince Shin is a babe.)

Though the plot is an amalgam of familiar soap-opera conventions—romantic triangles! hot younger siblings! disapproving mother-in-laws!—the story has surprising depth, showing us the emotional toll that public life exacts on the young couple. The characters, too, are developed beyond their plot functions into flawed, interesting people. Chae-Kyung, for example, is a refreshingly honest, outspoken heroine who tries to please her new family while struggling to preserve her sense of self, sometimes committing egregious faux pas in the process. Another plus is the artwork: it’s flat-out gorgeous, with considerable attention devoted to ancient ceremonial costumes (not to mention the contemporary fashions… no one here shops the sale rack at Old Navy). The characters’ bodies are somewhat stylized, but are a little softer and more languid than the norm for seong-jun manhwa, adding to the artwork’s sensual appeal. Pair those beautiful images with a compelling plot and boatloads of romantic tension, and you have the recipe for manhwa crack. Highly recommended for shojo and josei buffs of all ages.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Love*Com, Vol. 8

By Aya Nakahara
Viz, 216 pp.
Rating: Teen (13+)

Risa and Outani are finally going out, but she’s uncertain about how she’s supposed to act around him now. She’s got this preconceived notion of what a girlfriend should be, and internally beats herself up each time she fails to live up to that ideal. It helps some when Outani sets aside his natural reticence and introduces her to people as his girlfriend, but he still hasn’t articulated exactly why he loves her, and she’s having a hard time imagining what he could see in her.

Later, Outani’s neighbor, Mimi, finds out he’s got a new girlfriend and is furious. The beautiful and tall middle schooler has harbored a crush on him for years, but abandoned hope because she thought he only liked tiny girls. A lot of Mimi angst follows, and while it’s creditable that Risa sympathizes with her plight, the way this new character suddenly dominates the story is rather irksome.

Eventually, though, I realized that her purpose is to solidify the main couple’s relationship. We see that she really poses no threat to them at all, that Outani’s feelings never waver, and that he and Risa really are made for each other, rough edges and all. Having fulfilled this destiny, may she now go quietly away.

While this particular volume didn’t focus on the leads quite as much as I would’ve liked, it still excels at depicting the insecurities and awkwardness of this period in a relationship. That’s no surprise, since Love*Com has nailed many other aspects of first love. I’m sure it will continue to do so in the volumes to come.

–Reviewed by Michelle Smith

Rolling, Vol. 1

By Ji-sang Sin and Geo
Tokyopop, 192 pp.
Rating: Older Teen (16+)

It’s not difficult to get admitted to Bright Free High School. They’ll take anyone, even other schools’ rejects, and theoretically whip them into shape with strict rules that exceed even the military’s notions of discipline. This volume introduces the four students and one freeloader who are sharing a dorm room. Episodic adventures ensue.

I’ve seen this kind of premise before, but usually in a way that incorporates character moments in with the fun. Rolling doesn’t do that; it just sort of drifts along with no point or direction. Honey and Clover, for instance, might use the chapter about the ramen shop opening up across from campus to highlight the students’ insecurities and romantic woes. In Rolling, the main point is… how come Il-yong always gets an egg?

The back cover also hints at possible romantic involvement between the characters, but this never quite materializes. Two characters are particularly cuddly with each other and some sudden personality transplants (a character shown in chapter one to be logical is suddenly inane by chapter three) allow for a nude laundry scene, but there’s no real shonen-ai to speak of.

When all is said and done, Rolling is bland. We’re given no reason to care about these characters or to find their escapades interesting.

– Reviewed by Michelle Smith

Vidia and the Fairy Crown

By Haruhi Kato
Tokyopop, 192 pp.
Rating: All Ages

Like Kingdom Hearts and Kilala Princess, Vidia and the Fairy Crown features familiar Disney characters and settings—in this case, the fairies of Never Land—in brand new adventures. The manga itself takes its cue not from Disney’s animated Peter Pan film of 1953, but a more recently launched line of spin-off novels and straight-to-DVD movies based loosely on characters from J. M. Barrie’s 1906 novella, Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens. (God, I love the Wikipedia sometimes…) Given the source material, it’s not surprising that most Never Land fairies are wholesome and domestic, blessed with talents such as doing dishes, folding laundry, and making other people clap. The lone exception is Vidia, a dour creature whose primary talents are flying fast and talking trash about the other fairies—two qualities that immediately endeared her to me, but make her an outsider in Pixie Hollow. When the Queen’s crown goes missing, the other fairies scapegoat Vidia, accusing her of stealing it. Vidia then teams up with the impossibly sunny Prill to clear her name, retrieve the Queen’s tiara, and teach the other fairies a lesson about tolerance.

Older readers will find the material predictable, as the mystery unfolds in the same manner as a typical Scooby Doo episode, with every clue’s significance explained in painstaking detail. Parents, too, may find the story wanting, especially its retrograde gender roles—surely Disney could have updated the material to include fairies with talents outside the kitchen and the washroom. Seven-to-ten-year-old girls, however, will adore Vidia and the Fairy Crown for its button-cute artwork and fantasy elements, though many of them will prefer the prissy Prill to her saucy, black-clad counterpart.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

By Sai Madara
DrMaster, 158 pp.
Rating: 13+

You’d think being a highly-skilled ninja would be a dream come true, but tell that to Mamoru Kagemori, the main character of Mamoru the Shadow Protector. For him, coming from a family of great warriors brings nothing but headaches, given their duty to protect the wealthy Konnyaku family. Luckily for us, his trials and tribulations translate into an entertaining, cutely-drawn manga that never takes itself too seriously, even if the main character does.

As a narrator informs us, a great lord who loved konnyaku – a traditional, Japanese jelly-like delicacy – had ordered the family which made it to be secretly-protected by a ninja clan; countless years into the future, the Kagemori family continues this tradition. By day, Mamoru Kagemori, a friend of Yuna Konnyaku since childhood, appears to be just another ordinary high school student. However, whenever Yuna gets into trouble, he uses his superhuman agility, weapons, even a ninja dog to protect her.

The idea of dual identities – one mild-mannered, the other heroic and exciting – is something right out of countless superhero comics, and indeed, Mamoru’s high school student alter-ego even includes coke-bottle eyeglasses (albeit ones with a unique swirled pattern on the lenses). But the manga bears more resemblance to one of those old Popeye cartoons featuring Sweet Pea the mischievous baby, where a simple day out becomes an epic struggle to keep harm at bay.

Yuna has a real knack for getting into trouble, and most of the hijinks in volume one stem from her accidentally witnessing a drug deal, which she, due to her ditzy nature, fails to recognize for what it is. Nevertheless, a yakuza boss decides to eliminate her, and one after another, sends henchmen, a beautiful swordswoman, even a cadre of animal-themed assassins to do the job. Although Mamoru reacts to these threats with lightning speed, Yuna, being her oblivious self, never has the slightest clue what danger she is in.

Both the overall comedic tone and her total lack of awareness make up part of Mamoru the Shadow Protector’s considerable charm, but they also help set it apart from the standard superhero comic; imagine if Superman kept himself completely secret, and Lois Lane went through life never knowing she was being watched over. It may not sound like a formula that could sustain any serial over a number of volumes, but writer/artist Sai Madara keeps things interesting in different ways, one of which is tossing a screwball to anyone expecting a traditional comic book romance.

Along with the power to beat up bullies, the ability to impress the boy/girl next door ranks high among reasons why superheroes appeal so strongly to adolescents. However, in a so-obvious-it’s-kinda-brilliant twist, Mamoru views Yuna as a burden, even expressing annoyance at certain character traits, while she seems genuinely interested in him. Later volumes will undoubtedly determine if Mamoru comes around and considers her to be more than just his job. Meanwhile, Madara wisely includes a scene giving Yuna some depth – a sub-plot in which she goes out of her way to help a lost little boy. It’s a nice break from ninja-on-yakuza action, and for readers, these moments also show exactly why Yuna really is worth rescuing.

Volume one of Mamoru the Shadow Protector is available now.

By Akira Hiramoto
Del Rey, 544 pp.
Rating: OT 16+

RJ isn’t cut out for a farmer’s life. Despite the urgings of his sister and pregnant wife to give up his dreams of becoming a bluesman, he still finds himself drawn to the local juke joint, where folks of ill repute gather to listen to the blues. His own efforts to master the guitar aren’t going well, though, and after a particularly poor reception to his playing, one of the denizens jokingly suggests that he sell his soul to the devil to obtain the skill he lacks.

The desperate RJ goes through with the deal, and returns to wow the crowd with his incredible newfound ability. All this is not without a price, though, as he learns he’s actually been gone for six months and that his wife and baby have died in the interim, part of the devil’s deal to enable him to know the blues. He sets out on the road and before too long encounters Clyde Barrow, a white man and a criminal, who involves RJ in his schemes, one of which threatens to cost RJ his life.

I can honestly say that Me and the Devil Blues is unlike any manga I’ve ever read before. In fact, I think the closest thing to it in terms of tone and feel would be The Sandman series by Neil Gaiman. There are parts that I really love and parts that I still don’t quite get, and through it all there is an unstinting depiction of the brutality and ignorance of which the human race is capable. Uplifting it is not.

The art—truly excellent throughout—also reminds me of American comics to some degree, but with more consistent quality than that medium usually manages. The resemblance is particularly striking in the first few chapters, where much of the action takes place at the juke joint in RJ’s rural town. Panels have no free space, and instead reflect a darkened interior crowded with people dancing, drinking, and socializing. It’s not hard to imagine it in gritty color.

Hiramoto also does great things with the character of Clyde Barrow, managing to visually convey the man’s potential to be charming, confident, scheming, rattled, and dangerous. I particularly like the mannerisms he’s been given; I’m not sure I’ve seen a mangaka bother to give someone a recognizable tic like Clyde’s habitual hair smoothing before. The time period of the story (early 1930s) is also well-rendered, with hairstyles, clothing, cars, and attitudes all doing their part to contribute to a feel of historical accuracy.

While certainly not the sunniest option one might have for reading material, Me and the Devil Blues is not one to miss. It may also be just the thing for that comics-loving pal of yours who is absolutely convinced there’s no manga that would appeal to them.

Volume 1 of Me and the Devil Blues is available now.

Forest of Gray City, Vol. 2

By Uhm JungHyum
Yen Press, 200 pp.
Rating: Teen

Mourning the cancellation of Suppli? Still in Tramps Like Us withdrawal? Then I have something to help you heal that josei jones: Forest of Gray City, a two-volume soap opera chronicling a March-December romance between a twenty-something woman and her seventeen-year-old roommate. The first volume introduced us to the three principle characters: Yun-Ook, a graphic designer whose independent streak has complicated her search for Mr. Right; Bum-Moo, a brooding hottie with a killer wardrobe and a taste for older women; and Bum-Moo’s stepsister, whose loves her younger brother a little too much. Volume two begins with an extended flashback to Bum-Moo’s relationship with his stepsister, showing us how they met, and how tragedy brought them closer together.

Uhm JungHyum packs enough sudsy twists into the first sixty pages for a sweeps’ week worth of General Hospital episodes: second-chance weddings, fatal car crashes, law suits, and abusive husbands all factor into Bum-Moo’s backstory. Yet Forest of Gray City never veers into camp or melodrama, thanks to the beautiful artwork. Uhm JungHyum uses screentone and background detail sparingly, often relying on white space to suggest the isolation and sadness her principles are feeling. The story itself is a little rushed; the artist introduces a rival for Yun-Ook’s affections midway through the second volume, never allowing us to see this character as anything but a plot device. (His subplot barely merits twenty pages—a hiccup in the resolution of the central drama.) Narrative shortcomings notwithstanding, Forest of Gray City offers the same kind of compelling characters and elegant artwork as Suppli, Tramps Like Us, and Walkin’ Butterfly in a wallet-friendly, two-volume package, complete with gorgeous color plates. A must for josei connoisseurs!

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Kekkaishi, Vol. 14

By Yellow Tanabe
Viz, pp.
Rating: Teen (13+)

In this volume of Yellow Tanabe’s utterly enchanting Kekkaishi, we see a return to the episodic storytelling of earlier volumes. Though the multivolume Kokuboro arc was quite fun, the episodic supernatural dilemma solving is where this series really shines. Whether it’s taking down rogue ayakashi or stymieing the sex drive of a lustful goblin king, Yoshimori always has many hurdles to overcome in his quest to become a stronger kekkaishi.

In my last review, I noted the remarkable similarities between this series and its Shonen Jump counterpart Bleach. To be sure, the series have a lot in common. Demon-slaying dominates, and they even both involve cross-dimensional travel to an enemy fortress. As Kekkaishi finished its Kokuboro arc though, it has accomplished what Bleach did not. After an epic conflict, Kekkaishi has taken the much more believable and entertaining route of returning to the episodic storytelling that made it so great in the first place. Where Bleach has all but abandoned its most compelling draw, the monster-of-the-day fare of the pre-Soul Society arc, Kekkaishi has made a triumphant return. For Bleach, any sense of grounding has been lost as increasingly boring non-stop epic battles have dominated everything since the impressive Soul Society arc. For Kekkaishi, the first long story arc of Kokuboro was likewise a triumph, but the aftermath has been a far greater pleasure.

In addition, Tanabe’s art has only improved since her early volumes. My favorite improvement has been how wonderful all of the characters facial expressions are now. Also, Tanabe has a rare gift for a shonen mangaka: her flashback arcs are awesome. They add a lot to the story, and make you love the characters even more. Cheers to Kekkaishi and Yellow Tanabe for making me genuinely hopeful for the future of shonen manga. Run, don’t walk to the nearest volume of Kekkaishi. You won’t regret it!

–Reviewed by Isaac Hale

Pumpkin Scissors, Vol. 3

By Ryotaro Iwanaga
Del Rey, 222 pp.
Rating: 16+

Volume three of Pumpkin Scissors is lackluster at best. The book picks up with the Pumpkin Scissors busting the President of Public Waterworks for meeting with the elusive Sterling Wheel. The operation then devolves into a “who’s had a sadder time at war” battle between a flame-thrower named Hans and PS’s own Corporal Oland. Hans dies, SW leaves (mysteriously) and Pumpkin Scissors is sent back to HQ where they laugh, cry and find out their leader, the tomboyish Alice, has a fiancé.

Though volume three has drama to spare, the childish art ruined any mood that was created. Hans’ dilemma was an interesting storyline, but he didn’t last long enough for his torment to matter. Alice’s engagement and the introduction of her sisters seemed like useless filler. And almost every event that occurred in this volume never seemed mature enough for the “war” tone the book is trying to give off, or to justify the 16+ rating.

The entire time I was reminded of Full Metal Alchemist, as the two stories share the same wartime European setting. Yet Pumpkin Scissors lacks the fantastical magic that makes FMA the interesting story that it is. Possibly the only “magical” object in Pumpkin Scissors is Oland’s Blue Light, which makes him “super-human.” However, it seems almost as ineffective as the book itself. Not recommended.

–Reviewed by Sam Kusek

By Cuvie
Published by CMX
Rating: Mature

As Catholicism sweeps across feudal Europe, many of those who still practiced pagan religions find themselves ostracized, feared, or worse. In one small Germanic village, the practice of revering the local albino population leaves the area open to accusations of witchcraft and heresy from a neighboring king. Thus the young albino girl known as Dorothea is forced to leave her home and family for the first time as she sets forth on a quest to rally allies to help protect her people from persecution and a possible invasion.

The actual plot to get Dorothea out into the world is a bit confusing. While Catholicism spurs on an attempt to grab the land that Dorothea and her people inhabit, it also presents their own ruler with an opportunity to remove the albinos from his land, thus giving his sole control of the territory. With almost no where else to turn, an old friend pops up once more, presenting her and the rest of the albinos that live within the “White House” an opportunity to find allies. A returning friend is convinced to take her out into the world to find allies to help protect her friends and their land. The political in fighting and jockeying for positions of power takes a back seat to what’s essentially a coming of age story for young Dorothea. Accompanied by her friend, Gyruk, a boy who had left the village several years later to in his own search for adventure, she joins with a large mercenary battalion and is forced to confront the harsh realities of how the rest of the world treats albinos, not to mention the brutalities of warfare. Dorothea proves herself a strong and capable young woman, but still manages to have a certain emotional vulnerability that doesn’t impact her mental and physical abilities.

It’s the same emotional vulnerability of anyone going off into the world for the first time, not knowing what to expect and not truly prepared for the harshness of war and life outside of her little hamlet. The second volume really focuses on this, forcing her to deal with the repercussions and aftermath of her first skirmish with enemy soldiers, and the fact that the rest of the mercenaries she’s with tend to view her as a witch or demon. It shows her coming to understand the fact that evil is a rare thing and even those she calls allies are capable of doing some fairly horrible things, not to mention her wish to simply be accepted and not viewed as some sort of inhuman monster due to her appearance.

The artwork didn’t really blow away. It’s decent enough and it gets the point across, but something about it didn’t quite click with me. It just might not be my thing though, as I honestly can’t find anything bad to say about it. I found several of the characters to look alike and relied upon the dialogue and costuming to help tell them apart. Thankfully, Dorothea’s about the only girl who appears in both books, and she’s heavily designed to look unique due to her albinism and her rather snazzy outfit. The action sequences aren’t anything special; they tend be quick, taking only a few panels. The backgrounds also tend to be a bit sparse with toning being used to make up for the lack of detail in them.

Despite not blowing me away, I thought Dorothea was an interesting story. It’s always nice to see a strong and capable female lead, and Dorothea is definitely that. It seems like the kind of title that should be able to build up a strong fan base among girls in their early teens, but with CMX’s low profile, and the M rating warranting a shrink wrap, I get the feeling that many folks will over look or miss out on it.

Volumes one and two of Dorothea are available now.

This week, we tackle four new titles: volume five of The Antique Gift Shop (Yen Press), a Korean import with a supernatural vibe; volume one of Classical Medley (CMX), a shonen romp in which the characters have musically inspired names; volume four of Her Majesty’s Dog (Go! Comi), a shojo romance with a demonic twist; and volume two of Hollow Fields (Seven Seas), Madeleine Rosca’s award-winning OEL series.

The Antique Gift Shop, Vol. 5

By Lee Eun
Yen Press, 200 pp.
Rating: Teen

The first four volumes of The Antique Gift Shop adhered to the same formula: unsuspecting customers purchase objects from a magical emporium, only to discover that said objects are possessed by spirits with agendas of their own, e.g. reuniting lost lovers, punishing bullies for bad behavior. Volume five is something of an anomaly, as the longer of the two stories is only tangentially connected to the shop. In it, a delivery man finds himself stranded at a compound whose gothic denizens shun the one seemingly normal resident, a curly-haired moppet with big, dewy eyes. Though Lee Eun channels Charles Addams’ iconic family with her marvelous character designs and atmospheric backgrounds, she has considerable difficulty with the actual storytelling. Each scene is weirdly self-contained, leading to a denouement that feels more like a bolt from the blue than the logical resolution of the story’s central mystery. The second chapter suffers from many of the same problems–disjointed storytelling, cryptic dialogue–but has a crucial advantage: it stars the proprietress of the gift shop, a character familiar from previous volumes. Her story is, at times, frightfully hard to follow–I think she plays a hand of go to save her mother’s soul–but I did learn a few fun facts about Korean playing cards, and and dug her opponents’ fabulous costumes, which struck me as something Cotton Mather might have worn after a visit to seventeenth century Korea.

The bottom line: the cover art is beautiful, but the interior is a mess. Wait for volume six or backtrack to the first volume if you’d been curious about this series.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Classical Medley, Vol. 1

By Sanae Kana
CMX, 162 pp.
Rating: Teen (T)

There are two magical orbs in the Classical Kingdom, one a ball of light and the other a sphere of darkness. The power of the latter has been sealed away since being abused by a king of yore, and a ceremony to renew the seal is required every 100 years. The ceremony goes wrong, and the current king winds up possessed by dark powers while Alto, protagonist of indeterminate gender and bodyguard to the prince, obtains the powers of light. Alto flees with Prince Soprano and trusty dragon companion Mezzo to seek help from Soprano’s brother, who is the only one not to have come under the king’s evil influence since he’s attending school in another country.

This title is rated Teen, but it’s hard to imagine any teen wanting to read this. The characters look and act younger than their established ages, the attempts at humor are not funny, and the story keeps getting modified as it goes along. I’d say it ought to be rated All Ages instead, but there are a few gratuitous images of the queen’s enormous boobs that might make that problematic.

Classical Medley is thoroughly mediocre, treading closely to the border with outright bad. I’m usually a completist, especially with a short series like this, but I couldn’t endure a second volume, even to know how it all ends.

–Reviewed by Michelle Smith

Her Majesty’s Dog

By Mick Takeuchi
Go! Comi, 196 pp.
Rating: Older Teen (16+)

In my review of volume seven, I noted some similarities between Her Majesty’s Dog and InuYasha. In both series, for example, the heroine is a teenaged priestess/schoolgirl who pals around with a moody demon dog. Though the two series diverge plot-wise, they share another trait: the filler arc. Volume nine of Her Majesty’s Dog feels like one of those “Hey, let’s have InuYasha disrupt the cultural festival at Kagome’s school!” storylines that Rumiko Takahashi likes to insert between long, drawn-out quests for jewel chards. Nothing of consequence happens: Amane and Ateko quarrel and reconcile; Amane and Hyoue help a tree spirit cross over; the gang attend–you guessed it–a cultural festival.

Mick Takeuchi’s art hasn’t evolved much from the first volume. Her character designs and backgrounds are crisply rendered, if a little generic, while her indiscriminate use of screentone would vault her to the top of Dee DuPuy’s Most Wanted list. Takeuchi still struggles with action sequences; the few scenes involving koma-oni combat are a hot mess of diagonal panels, facial close-ups, and sound effects.

That said, fans of the series shouldn’t skip volume nine, as Amane “makes a shocking decision” (to borrow a phrase from the dust jacket) in its final pages–a decision with the potential to end her relationship with Hyoue for good and bring the series to a dramatic close.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Hollow Fields, Vol. 2

By Madeleine Rosca
Seven Seas
Rating: All Ages

One thing I can credit Hollow Fields with as a series: the main character does get more interesting. In the first volume, Lucy Snow showed severe growing pains at her new school, whining how it was too cold outside to dig up corpses, and fainting at the sight of vats full of genetically-engineered fish-birds and formaldehyde. Not only was she in danger of failing her first week and earning detention–which according to the rules at Hollow Fields, means being sent to the ominous windmill no student has ever returned from –worse, she was almost no fun. And attending a school for aspiring mad scientists should be fun, right?

In volume two, Lucy toughens up and shows potential in certain forbidden sciences. Unfortunately, she still comes across as bland compared to her classmates, especially Summer Polanski, who would be the star if this were a more subversive series. But it isn’t; writer/artist Madeleine Rosca seems content serving up a routine adventure plot, in which Lucy has to get out of Hollow Fields or something terrible will happen to her. Worse, Rosca doesn’t even let the suspense build until the next volume. Instead, just when the dark twists on academic competitiveness and pre-teen girl rivalries start to heat up, a major plot development takes place, and things take a turn towards more run-of-the-windmill stuff.

As a reader, I wanted more scenes like the mid-term exam, in which Lucy and her classmates unleash destructive class projects on a scale-model city. At least Rosca’s art, which combines cute, nose-less children with spooky-looking backgrounds, continues to make an interesting-looking combination. Now if only the story itself were as twisted as it looked.

– Review by Phil Guie

By YoungHee Lee
Yen Press, 192 pp.
Rating: 13+

Intelligent, affluent, polite, attractive…who wouldn’t like Seung-Ha, the resident prince of the school and beacon of perfection? Certainly not Nan-Wo, his klutzy, aggressive classmate who spends her days pining for him and replaying her seemingly endless string of slip ups in front of him. But when Seung-Ha asks her to date him, it all seems like a dream come true- that is, until she figures out that her dream prince is actually her worst nightmare!

Ah, the personality dichotomy: old as the hills but an ever attractive plot device. You’re So Cool may not be heading in any new directions, but a vicious bent and unflinching lead heroine manages to keep things interesting in spite of the title’s shortcomings. The first installment follows a remarkably simple path: girl likes boy, girl scores impossibly improbable date with boy, girl is victim of injustices and realizes boy is thug. It doesn’t make for great reading, and certainly doesn’t enamor one towards anybody other than Nan-Wo, but nonetheless serves as the right setup for future installments. Act One may be the big reveal, but act two will inevitably be sweet revenge.

Exempting a few forgettable background characters, You’re So Cool is almost entirely a two man show. Nan-Wo, the protagonist du jour, provides the levity and spastic humor the series revels in: she’s unfeminine, brash and thoroughly overeager, traits designed naturally to clash with her tormentor. Seung-Ha packs a vicious attitude and penchant for cruelty, but hints of emotional baggage and emotional instability promise that he has the Rich Boy Family Issues to explain it all away in future installments.

Artistically, the series remains firmly planted in the realm of serviceable manhwa style, improved by the occasional well done full page spread. Everyone suffers from a kind of angular lankiness, but the effect isn’t overwhelming enough to detract from the narrative. This being shojo, there’s plenty of elaborate toning, but never to the point of invasive excess. Yen’s treatment of the material is perhaps most admirable, as the oversized volume comes with an abundance of color opener pages and a well adapted (ten points for usage of the verb “shotgunning”) translation.

You’re So Cool may follow the usual love/hate dynamics, but an unstoppable female lead and appropriately nasty counterpart add an extra crackle that less outrageous titles fail to capture. There’s nothing new to amaze and delight anyone remotely familiar with the usual shojo tropes, but with so many simpering wallflower protagonists on the market, those searching for a little more spastic spunk are advised to take a look.

Volume one of You’re So Cool is available now.

By Frederic Boilet and Benoit Peeters
Fanfare/Ponent Mon, 152 pp.
No rating (Mature content)

To give full disclosure, I was a little reluctant to tackle this comic after crying my eyes out after a nineteen-volume Banana Fish marathon this week. After that kind of an emotional joyride, an arsty-fartsy nouvelle manga did not sound like a panacea. But fortunately I was pleasantly surprised. Boilet and Peeters’ moody tale of a Frenchman living in Tokyo is the perfect thing to quiet your worries and carry your imagination to Japan.

If you’re at all familiar with the duo’s previous work, such as Boilet’s Yukiko’s Spinach or Mariko Parade, it should not come as a surprise that the story revolves around a Frenchman in his thirties and the Japanese love of his life. You get the feeling after a couple of these nouvelle manga that there is at least some connection between this ongoing theme and Boilet himself, but I digress.

What truly fascinates is Boilet’s perspective into Japanese culture as a gaijin who has lived there for years. On page 113 the protagonist David says: “That there is a fundamental between the Japanese and the rest of the world is a lie… Hooey for lazy journalists… The Japanese are like us in every way. What changes is there way of being identical.” This is really a brilliant insight that smashes through the oft repeated BS in Japanophile circles that the Japanese somehow have an insurmountable culture barrier. But to David, who has lived in Japan for years and lived his life like he would anywhere else, this fallacy is revealed for what it truly is: a crutch.

In Tokyo Is My Garden, the protagonist David starts things off by breaking up with his model girlfriend. Turns out he’s a boutique French cognac salesman trying to expand his company’s market into Japan. Soon after his breakup, David meets a new girlfriend and prepares for his boss’ imminent checkup on him in Tokyo. The truth is, he’s sold only one case of the cognac in his years in Japan! And he left his last promo bottle on the train by accident! Whatever is he to do? Fate and chance actually factor heavily into this story as David’s career future is determined by strangers even as he focuses completely on his love life. The way his future is determined is beautifully depicted in a way that only clicks in the reader’s mind when things come to head in the comic’s conclusion.

The art’s minimalist comic-manga fusion style is a nice change from the pop manga that inundates our local bookstores. Boilet has outdone himself once again. What exemplifies his art for me is when David and his Boss go to a dance club and most of the people with in have very sketchy and minimal facial features. But when David and his lover are sharing intimate moments, the detail is jaw-dropping. The scene where David is photographing his love is one of the most iconic in Boilet’s work, a theme echoed from his earlier Mariko Parade. We are also treated in this work by brilliant shading by Jiro Taniguchi of The Walking Man and The Ice Wanderer fame.

Though this comic is unlikely to appeal to the vast majority of casual manga readers who drop in for their monthly fixes of Fruits Basket and Naruto, it’s definitely worth checking out for manga fans, comics lovers, and art enthusiasts alike. Its not one of my favorite manga of the year, but it certainly was nice to have a break from all the standard manga fare. Try out this nouvelle manga stuff, and you’ll sound as pretentious and crotchety as I do in no time. And while you’re feeling smug about being a part of real in-the-making comics history, take the time to give Tokyo Is My Garden a good long read. It’s worth it.

Tokyo Is My Garden is available now.

By Hiro Mashima
Del Rey, 196 pp.
Rating: 13+

Though there are distinct differences, Fairy Tail can easily be compared to Mashima’s former series Rave Master. Yet, in my opinion, Fairy Tail is a more competent version of Rave Master. While similar to many Rave characters (Natsu is a Hot-Headed Haru, Lucy is Elie and Gray is Musica), Fairy Tail‘s are much more fully developed. Mashima’s characters are his strong point and with Fairy Tail, he is able to accentuate his characters with a much smaller, more manageable cast. The overall plot is also much tighter, restricting the story to short vignettes instead of long-winded quests. So it is no surprise that volume three of Fairy Tail embodies all of the traits that make this series a winner.

Volume three leaves us with Fairy Tail‘s strongest team at the hands of Erigor and the Dark Eisenwald Guild. At Erza’s request, Natsu and Gray are sent after the fleeting Erigor, while she and Lucy stay put to fight the rest of the guild. This volume is a good, deep introduction to Fairy Tail‘s stronger characters. Erza, throughout the volume, is given a chance to showcase not only her offensive tactics (which I must say is one of the more amazing powers that Mashima has ever conceived) but also her leadership abilities. She is an incredibly perceptive woman, constantly taking note of what’s going on and steering her team in the right direction. It’s no wonder that she is called “Titaina Erza” or “Queen of Fairy’s Erza.” Let’s not forget Gray though, our other new hero of Fairy Tail. Though he doesn’t get as much of the glory as Erza does, Gray still manages to show us his stuff during the Lullaby Arc. Gray also gets a chance to show off the “Maker Magic,” which allows him to put a form to his magic. Though both Erza and Gray are both given a great amount of face time in this volume, the real focus is on Natsu’s fly cat companion, Happy. Happy, during the course of this adventure, gets the group out of the Erigor’s Wind Wall by giving Lucy the Virgo Key. On top of this, he encourages Natsu (through some reverse psychology) to beat Erigor.

Just as Mashima is known for his clever writing, his stylized artwork is also very appealing. His action scenes are not overloaded, giving the reader just enough detail. He spells out exactly what is going on without it getting confusing or boring. His character design is also fantastic. Each character has their own unique style, matching their abilites and personalities quite well. Natsu, Erza and Gray’s costumes speak volumes about who they are: Natsu’s open vest suggests his heated temper, Erza keeps her heart hidden, figuratively and literally behind iron clad armor, and Gray wears a warm coat to contrast his cool and calculating ways.

Del Rey has picked another winner with Hiro Mashima’s Fairy Tail. I would say that it is one of the better representations of modern shonen to date. Its clever story and engrossing characters are reminiscent of older series, like Dragon Ball and Yuyu Hakusho, yet Mashima still manages to put a fresher spin on the classic genre. Fairy Tail is sure to please a wide audience.

Volume three of Fairy Tail is available now.

By Takehiko Inoue
Viz, 208 pp.
Rating: Teen (T)

Sakuragi has never been a hit with girls. In fact, in three years of junior high he amassed an impressive fifty rejections! Now in his first year of high school, he once again believes he’s met the girl of his dreams. Haruko loves athletes, and basketball in particular, so to win her affections, Sakuragi becomes determined to join the school team.

This aim is complicated by Sakuragi’s overwhelming, almost painful stupidity and violent outbursts of temper. He mouths off within earshot of the captain (who also happens to be Haruko’s older brother) and publicly humiliates him in a basketball contest. Though he manages to control himself long enough to get onto the team, he is quickly frustrated by fundamentals training and ends up storming off the court in a huff.

I know Slam Dunk is a classic of sports manga, a genre I really like, but I didn’t enjoy it quite as much as I thought I would. Most of that has to do with Sakuragi’s temperament, though, so I’m hopeful that as he’s forced to learn discipline and teamwork, the ignorant boasting and random karate chopping will gradually subside. The actual playing and practicing of basketball is great fun to read, another reason I assume my enjoyment will increase in future installments.

I was both impressed and a little confused by Inoue’s artwork. The style is by turns realistic and comedic, and though sometimes it borders on unattractive, there are definitely moments of greatness. A page and a half spread of the basketball court is a particular standout; the way the panel is framed does an excellent job in conveying the size and height of the room.

The confusion stems from several characters that appear to be of African descent. Their names are Japanese, though, and one of them is Haruko’s brother, so I am assuming they’re not supposed to be a different ethnicity than their peers. I was also struck by the resemblance of one of Sakuragi’s buddies to the late Robert Goulet. Consider the evidence:

A number of extras are included in this volume, all without deviating from the standard Shonen Jump price of $7.99. The first chapter is printed entirely in color, and a glossy color section in back includes a profile of a real-life NBA superstar and some tips on how to perform a slam dunk. And a sticker!

I liked this okay, and I’m confident I’ll like the rest more. It’ll be a long wait until volume two–due out in February–but Viz recently announced that a new series is due to replace Slam Dunk in the magazine come March, so the frequency of releases ought to increase in the near future.

Volume 1 of Slam Dunk will be available on September 2, 2008.

Ellie Mamahara: Alley of First Love

By Ellie Mamahara
BLU Manga, 186 pp.
Rating: Older Teen

Despite its lurid title, Alley of First Love isn’t about cruising—it’s actually about two childhood friends whose relationship takes a sexy turn in adulthood. Shusuke, a dark-haired hottie, is an injured soccer star who’s marking time at the family liquor store; Atsushi, a fair-haired innocent, is a graduate student who spent nearly six years abroad. When they’re reunited, Shusuke contrives improbable schemes for spending time with his old pal (one involving a giant panda suit… don’t ask) to gauge Atsushi’s interest in him.

Not much actually happens; most of the book is devoted to flirtatious exchanges and earnest conversations about feelings. That uneventfulness is both a plus and a minus. On the one hand, it’s refreshing to see character development take center stage in a genre known primarily for steamy man-on-man action. On the other, Ellie Mamahara lacks Fumi Yoshinaga’s flair for dialogue, so the script is rather pedestrian. The artwork, too, is serviceable but not great. Like many manga-ka, Mamahara favors lean boys with bee-stung lips, sleepy eyes, and impossibly broad shoulders—in short, characters who read as sufficiently masculine, but have a certain softness and sensuality that’s more feminine. Her backgrounds are spare, with shojo-esque screentone patterns frequently standing in for actual detail. For readers who prefer yaoi that depicts healthy, consensual relationships, Alley of First Love offers a welcome respite from some of the more explicit offerings in the BLU, DMP, and Kitty Media catalogs. Hard-core fujoshi, however, are advised to seek thrills elsewhere, as Mamahara’s book is a strictly PG-13 affair.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Kasumi, Vol.1

Story by Surt Lim, Art by Hirofumi Sugimoto
Del Rey, 208 pp.
Rating: 13+

Born out of an east-west creative partnership and helmed by Del Rey, Kasumi gets effort points, a couple cute points, and not a whole lot else. The setup smacks of been-there, done-that, from cheery everygirl Kasumi’s strange new powers (which, of course, manifest themselves in socially humiliating circumstances) to her rich girl rival and mysterious ice block of a love interest. Friend making, school hijinks, and magic usage naturally ensues. A quirky set of extras provides a bit of air, but even a bit of weirdness can’t liven up a series that seems dead set on crafting Kasumi a few token magical friends to move the background action along.

The okay vibes extend even to the realms of art and toning, with Sugimoto’s serviceable closeups marred largely by the occasional anatomical iffyness and, more gravely, by serious tone abuse. Every character has been lovingly toned with a healthy plethora of grays and gradients, but the backgrounds have been left to languish in obscurity. Who needs shapes or distinguishable features when a splash of black gradient will do? The end result- very few well-drawn backgrounds, or, worse, extant backgrounds proves a serious detractor in the long run. Kasumi may be a step in the right direction for global manga, but also proves that there’s still much ground to be covered in closing the quality gap.

–Reviewed by Chloe Ferguson

Kikaider Code 02, Vol. 7

Story by Ishinomori Shotaro, Art by Meimu
CMX, 178 pp.
Rating: Mature

The long awaited finale to the Kikaider Code 02 series is here! Unfortunately, I haven’t actually read any of the series prior to this, so it left me a bit lost. Still, it wasn’t too hard to grasp what was going on, though some of the plot twists were perhaps lost on me. Meimu’s artwork was lovely and the designs for Kikaider and the various other robots were fantastic. The story itself concludes the tangled web of intrigue involving Jiro (aka Kikaider), his pseudo-brother Saburo (aka Haikaider), the rest of their family, and a secret organization that was plotting to wipe out mankind. It’s a fast paced, action packed finale with an ending that might leave some scratching their heads. It’s open to interpretation, but seemed awfully grim to me. In addition there’s some nice sketchbook material included in the end, along with a short afterward by Meimu about the series. Interesting stuff that left me wanting to hunt down the rest of the series so I could better grasp this final chapter.

–Reviewed by Ken Haley

The King of Fighters Art Book

Created by Wing Yan and King Tung
Published by DrMaster, 92 pages
Rating: Unrated

From artists Wing Yan and King Tung comes The King of Fighters Art Book, 92 pages of full-color oversized reproductions of the duo’s covers for three different King of Fighters comic series (2001, 2002 and 2003). Each cover takes up a single page with a little notation at the bottom indicating which series it’s from. The duo have done a good job at capturing the likenesses of the various characters, and fans of the comics or games will be pleased to see characters ranging from Kyo to Bill Kane making appearances in the various pieces. While the covers are certainly lovely, it’s a bit disappointing that that’s all the book contains. No sketchbook material, rough pencils, rejected covers or anything of that nature. It’s essentially a cover gallery, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it gives the book a really light feeling, especially since it comes with a $22 price tag. Still, fans of Wing Yan and King Tung’s art might want to give it a look, as might fans of the comics and video game series.

–Reviewed by Ken Haley

La Corda d’Oro, Vol. 8

By Yuki Kure
Viz, 178 pp.
Rating: Teen (13+)

Volume eight of La Corda d’Oro begins with every musician’s worst nightmare: in the middle of a performance, Kahoko loses her mojo. Her intonation wobbles; a string breaks; and worse still, the magic spell that allowed her violin to practically play itself wears off, forcing her to scratch and pick her way through the remainder of the piece. Though she’s demoted to last place in the school music competition, her fellow contestants (five of whom are cute, tousled-haired boys) praise her gutsy performance, squeaks and all.

This opening chapter has a certain intensity and honesty that’s generally lacking in La Corda d’Oro as a whole. Some of that is attributable to the beautiful artwork; many scenes are wordless, focusing instead on a facial expression or a hand poised to bow a phrase. Yuki Kure’s toning is superb, giving her characters and objects an unusually solid appearance—something that’s all too rare in shojo—while evoking Kahoko’s fragile, anxious state. The rest of the volume is conventional shojo fluff, as Kure introduces a potential rivalry between Kahoko and a button-cute girl from Ryotaro’s middle school, and sends Kahoko to an amusement park with the deadly serious—some might say pompous—Len. Volume eight also includes an utterly forgettable short story about a rich boy who behaves like a doormat in the presence of the girl he loves, despite the fact she’s a brusque pain the butt. From the rougher artwork and choppy narrative flow, I’d guess this story predates La Corda d’Oro, as it lacks the polish of Corda’s very best pages.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

Naruto, Vol. 30

By Masashi Kishimoto
Viz, 178 pp.
Rating: Teen (13+)

I’d like to preface this review by saying I was a Narutard years before it was cool. I got into Naruto when Shonen Jump first hit newsstands in the US. Though admittedly, the series’ first fifty-ish chapters are unarguably Naruto’s heyday, this hasn’t stopped the ongoing series from still being a blast. Even though Naruto embraces pretty much every shonen meme and convention, it brings enough originality and sheer entertainment value to make up for it. Additionally, there’s just no getting over the fact that Naruto simply has terrific character designs. This series is a terrific balance of humor, action, and a healthy dash of manservice for the fangirls.

In this volume, Naruto and co. face off against various members of Akatsuki, this year’s super-secret evil badass hall of fame. Why is it that with each successive shonen story arc, the villains get less and less memorable? In my not-so-humble opinion, most shonen stories get stretched far beyond their natural life cycles and lose originality and fall back on conventions as a result. Naruto is no exception—this is volume 30 for Christ’s sake! The way the manga cuts from one fight to the next makes me consider going on Ritalin with every read. The way this manga really should be enjoyed is one chapter at a time (as you would if you were reading it in a magazine). With a week between each chapter, the extra-special scene shifts and fever-pitch action really work in Naruto’s favor. Regardless though, the graphic novels are quite a bargain at $8.00, and volume 30 should definitely be picked up if you’ve kept up with the series so far!

–Reviewed by Isaac Hale

Tears of a Lamb, Vol. 3

By Banri Hidaka
CMX, 192 pp.
Rating: Teen (T)

The greatest strength of this series is the relationship between its two lead characters. After getting off to a rough start—with Kei badgering Kanzaki to allow her access to his apartment so she can search for a lost ring—it has developed into a solid friendship, with each able to confide in the other about their problems. I particularly like how Kanzaki’s consideration of Kei is shown through his actions rather than told in mere words. The best scenes are when they are engaged in heartfelt conversation. Unfortunately, such moments do not happen often in this third installment of the series. The standout chapter actually focuses on the school doctor and her own experiences in high school. A nice character piece, it also provides a glimpse of the mysterious Suwa, the older man upon whom Kei is fixated and the owner of the ring for which she is searching.

Hidaka’s art is cute (I love the fleecy lambs sprinkled throughout) but my enjoyment is marred by the continual reliance on violence as a source of humor. Poor Kanzaki takes a pounding on practically every page and it’s really beginning to disturb me. If you can get past that, however, Tears of a Lamb definitely has something unique to offer.

–Reviewed by Michelle Smith

xxxHolic, Vol. 12

By CLAMP
Del Rey, 208 pp.
Rating: Teen (13+)

I’ll be the first to admit that I love xxxHolic to death. I love the art, love the creativity, even love the quasi-spiritual pretentiousness. And to be sure, this latest volume of xxxHolic has all that. Unfortunately, this latest volume takes the self-important pontification to a really obscene level, with the dialogue ascending to a fever pitch of narcissism. During a particularly emo moment, for example, Sakura says: “The only thing I could do until the ‘time’ that I changed the future was to act through the part I saw in a dream.” Trust me, this makes no more sense in context. Frankly though, if CLAMP can get its obligatory emo monologues out in this single volume, it’s a-okay by me.

Despite my bitching, this volume is still a pleasure to read. xxxHolic is easily the best series CLAMP has whipped up since Card Captor Sakura, and it shows in the one-shot stories and the jaw-dropping artwork. Seeing the chapter title pages in their ornate and sexy awesomeness makes me yearn for an xxxHolic artbook like nobody’s business. Though this volume is not nearly as good as it could have been, it’s still the same old xxxHolic, and for that it still gets my purchasing recommendation.

–Reviewed by Isaac Hale

NANA, Vols. 9-11

By Ai Yazawa
Published by Viz
Rating: Mature

If you look at the back of any book in Viz’s Shojo Beat line, you should see a funky little thought bubble stretching from the book’s title that says: “The Real Drama Begins in…”. This is a great marketing catchphrase, but it’s a little disconcerting seeing titles like Vampire Knight, Absolute Boyfriend, and NANA put on this same pedestal. That’s like comparing an apple to an orange to a Buick—or, as they used to say on Sesame Street, one of these things is not like the others.

Since the first issue of Shojo Beat magazine, NANA has been the label’s high point, setting a standard against which most other shojo releases seem pretty tame.. Despite NANA’s massive popularity in Europe as well as Asia (Japan’s bestselling shojo/josei manga ever), NANA has had a far rockier journey here in the US. Amid tepid sales and a slowing stateside release schedule, Viz decided to drop NANA from the magazine lineup and release it only in the graphic novel format.

Despite a release schedule that is agonizingly slow in comparison to its foreign counterparts, Viz has continued to put out regular and high quality releases. In volume nine for example, Viz opted to include a bonus story that Ai Yazawa drew about the humble high school origins of Trapnest and Blast. This extra is a real treat, and it warms my otaku heart to know that Viz is still giving NANA its full commitment despite sometimes disappointing sales. Additionally, each volume of NANA has included an extras section as well, which is always a treat.

Since the bombshell of volume eight where we find out that Hachi is pregnant, the drama and depth of NANA has ascended to a new tier. In volumes one through eight, Hachi and Nana unite and a seemingly solid social framework for the rest of the series unfolds. After volume eight though, it becomes increasingly clear that the first eight volumes were merely setup for the series’ true drama: the interaction of the members of Trapnest and Blast and the wild card in their midst, Hachi.

Throughout volumes nine, ten, and eleven, the reality of NANA as we’ve come to know it is turned on its head. Romantic realities are rattled; hopes and aspirations shattered and reformed overnight, and the lines of camaraderie and friendship are redrawn. With Hachi’s child on the way, Hachi becomes more and more consumed by her impending life as a mother and drifts away from her tried and true friends of Blast. Though Takumi treats her well for the most part, it is obvious that Hachi is making a very painful transition that could burn her bridges should her life with Takumi fall through.

The most rattling relationship change has been between the series namesakes, Nana Osaki and Nana “Hachi” Komatsu. Through the first eight volumes the two develop a bond that stretches beyond friendship and is absolutely paramount to the two women. As circumstances force them apart though, their bond is not broken. Nana Osaki pines for Hachi constantly, and they both weigh heavily on the other’s heart and mind. Even as it begins to appear that their paths are destined to be irreconcilable, the two women never forget for a moment that they are doing everything with the strength they garnered from each other.

Indeed, despite the Nanas’ separation, the series’ homoerotic tension only increases. Aside from a couple of jokes being made about Nobuo and Shin (yeah… no), Nana Osaki all but admits to having a romantic (or something even greater?) fixation with Hachi. She admits that Hachi fulfills her in a way that Ren does not. When Hachi leaves to live with Takumi, Nana descends into despair and begins having panic attacks. Despite her immense sense of loss, Nana does everything with Hachi, her new lease on life, in mind. With these ever-mounting homoerotic undertones and Ai Yazawa’s apparent infallibility in this series, I can only hope that these tensions can be resolved in a realistic and decisive fashion.

Despite all its laurels in the otaku community, NANA has yet to receive the attention it deserves in the American market. As it has done since its inception, NANA humanizes interpersonal relationships in a profound way that no other comic I’ve ever read has achieved. And with the first eight volumes being only the leaping off point for this already emotionally turbulent ride, we can be sure the best is yet to come. My hat is off to Ai Yazawa for creating the best shojo/josei title I have ever read. Accept no substitutes: the real drama begins in NANA.

Volumes nine, ten, and eleven of NANA are available now.

By Tohru Fujisawa
Tokyopop, 192 pp.
Rating: Mature (18 +)

In the near future, a special branch of the Tokyo Police Department is formed to deal with mysterious rash of mass murders that have been plaguing Japan. The murders are of a grizzly and inhuman nature and, to make things even more interesting, are often accompanied by earthquakes and the sudden appearance of mysterious holes. Enter Ranmaru Shindo, a new member of the Tokyo Police Department who’s assigned to the unit that’s the public face of the investigations, and a survivor of one of the early mass murders. Will he be able uncover the mystery behind the murders, and the mystery of a secret group within the police department know only as Tokko?

Tokko is not high literature. It’s a simple, over-the-top, pulpy action/horror series. The very set up is one that almost defies logic: a mysterious rash of mass murders that have been occuring over the span of about five years with dozens, even hundreds, left brutally mutilated each time, yet life continues along as always despite the fact that the police can’t even begin to come up with a suspect? I don’t know, I’d imagine that Tokyo would be emptied out by the time of the third or fourth one. Can’t imagine anyone wanting to hang around a city where hundreds of people mysteriously die at random, especially since they indicate that this seems to be happening with increasing frequency. So, the premise is a bit of a stretch, but what about the rest of it?

Well, the characters are interesting enough I suppose. Ranmaru’s a fairly likeable guy with a weird sister who’s constantly trying to hook him up with her friends, and who’s fond of teasing him by walking around their apartment half naked. He also suffers from a recurring dream of the day his parents and everyone in the housing project where they lived were murdered in one of the mass killings. (Unlike the actual event however, in his dreams there’s a half naked woman with a sword.) The mystery of the murders have driven him to join the police force in an attempt to bring the killer of his parents to justice and, as he learns in this volume, the descision to join the police force is about to bring him face-to-face with the woman from his dreams as well. Aside from Ranmaru, everyone else is just kind of there. Sure, his friends are likeable enough, but they don’t do a whole lot beside provide a way to feed us information on the world, the murders, and Ranmaru’s life. The Tokko squad, at this point are just mysterious ciphers, while his sister is just comedy relief. Then again, this isn’t the kind of story you read for deep character development.

The art’s very good, but that seems to be the norm for a Fujisawa book. The characters are very detailed and it’s quite easy to tell the various characters apart from one another. The gore and violence are surprisingly in short supply for a horror series. Outside of one crime scene most of gore and blood is just depicted by massive gushers of black ink. It’s certainly not as gorey as many of the horror offerings currently available. The action scenes are also a bit lacking. They tend to be handled fairly quickly and usually consist of a character leaping forward and killing someone in one hit, usually accompanied by the before-mentioned gushers of black ink. Even when the Tokko guys show up the fights tend to last a few panels, most of which will depict a single attack and a character or demon being cut to shreds in the process.

All in all, Tokko is a fun B-movie on paper. Crazy monsters? Check. Giant weapons? Check. Copious blood splatters? Check. A simple and vaguely goofy plot? Definitely a check. It’s light, it’s entertaining, it’s a quick read. Still, it does manage to entertain in a cheesy way.

Volume 1 of Tokko is available now.