A.I. Revolution 2 by Yuu Asami: B+

From the back cover:
Explosions, rescues, time machines, mistaken identities and former loves all come together to complicate Sui’s efforts to teach Vermillion—and now Kira—about being human. Not that Sui has much time for the two hot robots, with her bad-tempered friend Aoi wreaking havoc on the city…

Review:
There’s something about this series that reminds me a little of Silver Diamond. You’ve got the gentle human, Sui, teaching two newcomers about humanity, and everyone becoming a sort of family. I can’t help but think that if the casts of these two series got together, they’d all get on fabulously.

The episodic nature of the series continues in this volume, with chapters about a teenage genius in astrophysics, a surly adolescent hacker, et cetera. These stories also deal with some deeper issues, though, like the fact that robots, no matter how much like humans they may seem or how much Sui may like them, are designed to do the things humans don’t want to or can’t do. When Sui protests that Kira and Vermillion are sent into a building wired with multiple bombs, her dad answers, “That’s what they’re for.”

Also like Silver Diamond, this series has a certain quirky sense of humor that I adore. In the story the about astrophysics genius, some of Kira’s long hair gets shot off while he’s protecting her from thugs who want the wormhole research she’d been conducting. He sports a shorter style for a couple of chapters until Sui’s dad, who is responsible for Kira’s bishounen looks, concocts a beverage that causes spontaneous hair growth in robots. After it works on Kira, Vermillion has to try it, too, and when he asks Sui how he looks, she shakes her head in mute horror. He and Kira then shuffle off, dragging their new tresses behind them. I don’t often giggle aloud, but even the memory of that panel is making me grin in retrospect.

A.I. Revolution 1 by Yuu Asami: B

I reviewed the first volume of this Go! Comi series—about a girl tasked with teaching a robot prototype all about being human—for Comics Should Be Good. You can find that review here.

A.I. Revolution is a bit of an older series with seventeen volumes total. Five volumes have been released in English so far.

The Sharing Knife: Legacy by Lois McMaster Bujold: B+

From the front flap:
Fawn Bluefield, the clever young farmer girl, and Dag Redwing Hickory, the seasoned Lakewalker soldier-sorcerer, have been married all of two hours when they depart her family’s farm for Dag’s home at Hickory Lake Camp. Alas, their unlikely marriage is met with prejudice and suspicion, setting many in the camp against them. A faction of the camp even goes so far as to threaten permanent exile for Dag.

Before their fate as a couple is decided, however, Dag is called away by an unexpected malice attack on a neighboring hinterland threatening Lakewalkers and farmers both. What his patrol discovers there will not only change Dag and hew new bride, but will call into question the uneasy relationship between their peoples—and may even offer a glimmer of hope for a less divided future.

Review:
When I reviewed the first installment in The Sharing Knife series, Beguilement, I lamented its lack of a more traditional fantasy novel plot. It’s not that it wasn’t good; it just wasn’t what I expected. This second volume, Legacy, definitely fulfills more of that traditional fantasy role while dealing with the aftermath of Dag and Fawn’s marriage in interesting ways.

Since the two books were originally conceived of as one, this one picks up two hours later, with the newly married Dag and Fawn on their way to Hickory Lake, the Lakewalker camp where Dag’s family resides. When they arrive, all sorts of questions are answered, though it’s the new ones that crop up that prove the more interesting.

Bujold again excels at writing in such a way that it is incredibly easy to visualize the scene and her worldbuilding is unique and thorough. I enjoyed all the details of life at Hickory Lake, including the way the camp is laid out, the clever patrol-tracking system in place in the commander’s cabin, further information on sharing knives and the origin of malices, and the process for settling camp grievances. I also thought it was neat that, like Fawn’s family back in West Blue, Dag’s family is still unable to really see him for his own worth.

More compelling than this, however, is the fact that the novel deals with the question of what Dag and Fawn ought to do now that they are married. What will become of Fawn when Dag goes out on patrol? What if he doesn’t come back; can he trust the camp to provide for her? Will she ever be accepted, even if she displays her cleverness and desire to be useful over and over again? Indeed, it’s Fawn who makes the intuitive leap later in the novel that saves the lives of ten people, yet others almost immediately seek to award credit to Dag somehow. Even those who like her, like the camp’s medicine maker, Hoharie, stop short of recommending a permanent place for her in camp life.

On the more fantasy side of things, Dag is contending with his “ghost hand,” ground that originally belonged to his left hand, now missing, which can be called upon in times of urgency to perform unexpected feats of magic. (Or, as shown in the too-detailed marital consummation scene early in the book, for sexy purposes. At least the rest of such encounters are less explicit.) When a jaunt as captain, commanding several patrols as they strive to exterminate a highly-advanced malice, ends with him using this hand in a couple of new ways, Dag begins to realize that perhaps his life is going to change directions.

What with the way Fawn’s being treated at the camp, the way farmers largely remain ignorant of the malice threat, the threat of banishment arising from his family’s petition to dissolve his and Fawn’s marriage, and the knowledge that maybe he could be something other than a patroller, Dag eventually decides to head out and travel the world with Fawn by his side. Somehow I had absorbed the spoiler that this would eventually happen, but I like that the decision ultimately makes sense.

Overall, I liked Legacy more than Beguilement. I like the lead characters and hope that the small band of supporting Lakewalkers who were on their side in the camp council hearing will be seen again. It looks like Dag and Fawn will be acquiring some traveling companions in the next book, too, which I’m look forward to.

Additional reviews of The Sharing Knife: Legacy can be found at Triple Take.

Mansfield Park by Jane Austen: B

From the back cover:
From its sharply satiric opening sentence, Mansfield Park deals with money and marriage, and how strongly they affect each other. Shy, fragile Fanny Price is the consummate “poor relation.” Sent to live with her wealthy uncle Thomas, she clashes with his spoiled, selfish daughters and falls in love with his son. Their lives are further complicated by the arrival of a pair of sophisticated Londoners, whose flair for flirtation collides with the quiet, conservative country ways of Mansfield Park. An outsider looking in on an unfamiliar and often inhospitable world, Fanny eventually wins the affection of her benefactors, endearing herself to the Bertram family and readers alike.

Review:
I feel very much that I ought to love Mansfield Park, Austen fan that I am, but I simply can’t. With any Austen novel—satirical as they are—one is bound to encounter excessively foolish and self-aggrandizing characters. I fully expect that and am accustomed to disliking a few in each novel. I did not, however, expect to dislike nearly everyone, which is lamentably the case with this novel.

Fanny herself is the biggest problem. She’s meek, weak, weepy, and irksomely virtuous, to the point where other characters annoyed me simply because they gave her fodder for her hand-wringing. Her cousin Edmund, our ostensible romantic hero, isn’t much better. He’s a wet blanket, too, fond of lecturing others about what is right, but also a hypocrite, since his objections to the scandalous idea of producing a play at Mansfield Park are easily overcome when he learns one additional man is required to play the suitor of his lady friend, Miss Crawford.

Everyone else is self-absorbed, indolent, or deluded to varying degrees. Though Fanny’s personality is the biggest blow to my enjoyment of the novel as a whole, the character I hate most is actually Mrs. Norris (though at least with her I can feel assured that this doesn’t run counter to Austen’s intentions). She’s Fanny’s aunt, a frequent visitor to her sister and brother-in-law at Mansfield Park, and is fond of claiming charitable acts for herself that she actually had no part in executing, getting into everyone’s business, and making snide remarks about Fanny at every opportunity. No wonder J. K. Rowling named Filch’s cat after this odious woman! The only character I truly like is Fanny’s uncle, Sir Thomas, for he’s one of those gruff but kind paternal types that I can’t help but love.

The plot itself, like Austen’s other novels, involves the social interactions of several country families, with the importance of marrying well uppermost on everyone’s minds. The back cover blurb quoted above says that Fanny “wins the affection of her benefactors,” but that implies that Fanny actually does something to bring this about. In reality, Fanny pretty much sits back, sticks to her principles in refusing one undesirable suitor, and, when he is proven a rake and her female cousin disgraced, is suddenly valued for all of her propriety.

Thus brings us to the inevitable conclusion, wherein Edmund realizes that Fanny would make a better wife than Miss Crawford. There’s no romance leading up to this, since he spends the majority of the novel longing for the latter and often employs Fanny as his confidante in this regard. Though I am probably supposed to be happy for Fanny at this outcome, I instead find it pretty icky. True, Fanny has sheltered romantic feelings for Edmund throughout the novel, but he has always treated her very properly like a close relation. In fact, as he ponders the match, he holds hopes that her “warm and sisterly regard for him would be foundation enough for wedded love.” To that I must say, “Ew.”

Although I had plenty to complain about, Mansfield Park is still an Austen novel, which means that the writing is excellent and the characters vividly drawn and memorable. Though it’s my least favorite of the four I’ve read so far it by no means decreases my regard for her in general.

InuYasha 36-37 by Rumiko Takahashi: B

Centuries ago, a dog-like half-demon named Inuyasha attempted to steal a powerful gem known as the “Shikon jewel” from a village, but was thwarted by a beautiful priestess, Kikyo, whose enchanted arrow pinned him to a tree. There he remains for fifty years until Kagome—a modern-day high school girl transplanted to the past by means of an enchanted well—frees him because he’s the only being in the village capable of defeating the monster currently threatening it. Kagome is revealed to be the reincarnation of Kikyo when the Shikon jewel, carried by Kikyo into her funeral pyre, emerges from a cut in her body.

When the jewel is later shattered, scattering slivers of its power across the land, Inuyasha and Kagome team up to hunt for the shards. They’re joined in their travels by a young fox demon (Shippo), a lecherous monk (Miroku), and a demon slayer (Sango). A cast of recurring characters includes Inuyasha’s full-demon brother (Sesshomaru), a brash wolf demon who fancies Kagome (Koga), and the resurrected Kikyo, for whom Inuyasha had romantic feelings back in the day and whose occasional reappearances cause him angst and prevent any progress in his nascent relationship with Kagome.

InuYasha is rather notorious for the repetitiveness of its plot. Over and over, the group will encounter a village that is being menaced by some kind of supernatural threat, be it a horde of self-replicating rats or a band of undead assassins. They will generally discover that a Shikon shard is in use and that Naraku, the chief antagonist of the series, is responsible. They will track Naraku down and Inuyasha will fight and nearly defeat him, but he will escape, even if all that’s left of him is his head and shoulders, and eventually return, due to his regenerative powers.

Volume 36 adheres closely to this pattern in its outcome, though the beginning stages vary somewhat, as Inuyasha and friends are now in search of Naraku’s heart, hidden in the body of an infant, which is what enables him to defy death so frequently. They receive some assistance from a surprising source—Kagura, one of Naraku’s creations, has been angling for a while to be free of his control, and so leads the good guys to a cave where the infant has lately been hidden.

In volume 37, things are a little different, though not substantively. Half-demons change into human forms on the night of the new moon, and Inuyasha is in that weakened state when Moryomaru, a demon created by one of Naraku’s minions, comes after the last Shikon shard in Kagome’s possession. Sesshomaru arrives to save the day and a rather uninspiring battle ensues, ending with Moryomaru’s disembodied head escaping, sure to return, et cetera. The volume does end with some great infighting amongst Naraku’s cohorts, though.

I long ago stopped feeling any investment in these encounters with Naraku and no longer expect anything but another reiteration of the pattern. Knowing that there are nineteen more volumes to follow these ensures that I won’t feel genuinely excited until we are much nearer to the end. Given this lack of forward momentum, then, why do I find the series so endearing?

The answer lies in the series’ characters. Like any good sitcom, InuYasha boasts a cast of likable leads. Everyone has their own subplot—Miroku is cursed with a “wind tunnel” in his hand that is slowly killing him, Sango’s late brother has been reanimated by a Shikon shard and forced to serve Naraku—and genuinely cares for the others. For every storyline that pans out exactly as one expects, there are nice scenes like the one near the end of volume 36, where Kagome and Inuyasha share a quiet, peaceful moment in a tree, musing upon how happy they are to have the other by their side.

Also, despite occasional gore and an inordinate number of severed heads, the story has a gentle sort of humor that I appreciate. I don’t find Miroku’s pervy antics to be that amusing, but other things are cute, like Shippo’s shape-changing abilities and the shorter tales that don’t tie in with the main narrative, like one about a handsome traveling medicine man who wishes only to return to his original form… a mosquito.

Takahashi’s art is up to the challenge of handling all of the story’s diverse elements. Her style is distinctive, and a little bit retro, and I’m a big fan of it. She doesn’t skimp on backgrounds and uses tone judiciously—daylight scenes are usually bright and clean while tone is chiefly used to provide gloom as needed. The biggest complaint I could make is that the art has been flipped. Thankfully, volume 37 marks the end of that era, as Viz recently announced that beginning with volume 38 in July, InuYasha will be released in English with unflipped art for the first time. The upcoming VIZBIG editions will also read right-to-left.

InuYasha is a manga institution for good reason. It may meander at times, but I don’t regret a single moment I’ve spent reading it.

Review copy for volume 37 provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

InuYasha 35 by Rumiko Takahashi: B-

From the back cover:
A new crop of demons is plaguing the land. The more demons are killed, the more humanlike they become. This progression culminates in a battle between the gang and Moryomaru, Hakudoshi’s new and fearsome creation. Can Koga and Inuyasha stop their infighting long enough to battle a common enemy?

Review:
In volume 34, which I reread before starting this one, Inuyasha and pals pledged to help a living mountain regain his “nulling stone,” stolen by Naraku, which hid his demonic power and let him pretend to be a normal mountain so he could live peacefully and undisturbed. I mention this because the story shifts so abruptly into fighting this new batch of demons created from other demons—or “hodge podge demons” as I dubbed them—that I completely forgot about their quest. Eventually, Naraku’s minion, Hakudoshi, swipes some nulling stone-detecting crystals from Miroku, at which point I went, “Ohhhh! Riiiiight.”

That kind of gives you an indication of how blah these plots were. Hodge podge demons rampage, Inuyasha and the gang kill them. Hakudoshi appears with a more advanced demon. Teamwork prevails and the bad guys flee, etc. After that, there are a few chapters about a girl who Miroku had apparently pledged to marry two years ago who is now due to wed a catfishy lake spirit. The saving of her is not interesting, but I enjoyed Sango’s reaction. I wish she would’ve stayed pissed a bit longer, though, since Miroku’s sleazy ways do not amuse me.

I also liked seeing more signs of dissension within Naraku’s ranks, as Kagura visits Sesshomaru with one of the stone-detecting crystals, which will enable him to find the location of Naraku’s heart—it being kept separate from his body is supposedly what’s allowing him to regenerate so often—and destroy it. It occurs to me that I’d really love to see a chapter or two that tells the story from the bad guys’ perspective—A Day in the Life of Kagura or something like that.

High School Debut 9 by Kazune Kawahara: A-

It’s sports festival time, giving Haruna and Yoh the chance to work together on the same team. Alas, the plans for togetherness don’t work out, as Yoh is elected grade captain and has to work hard to master his ceremonial duties and not disappoint those who elected him. Haruna, of course, is very encouraging and does things like make him foul-tasting radish juice to help his throat (since he has to yell a lot). Meanwhile, Haruna receives some encouragement herself from Yoh’s friend, Asaoka, who seems to be in in her vicinity quite often. Yoh figures out that Asaoka has feelings for Haruna and tells him not to confess, as doing so would only upset her.

I’ve read about sports festivals and romantic rivals before, but somehow High School Debut is able to take these familiar manga staples and make something new out of them. The sports festival, for example, provides many opportunities for sweet interaction between the two leads, from Yoh’s embarrassment at his own sentimentality to their inability to vote for other people in the captains’ election, even though they had agreed to do so.

Also, because so much time has been spent on developing the supporting characters, it doesn’t actually feel out of left field that Asaoka, who has seen how being with Haruna has changed Yoh for the better, might come to wonder what might’ve been. He’s an intriguing character, the kind who jokes so often that it’s impossible to tell when he’s serious, which has the additional benefit of pushing normally cool Yoh’s buttons in very entertaining ways.

Are there really only four volumes left of this series? How time flies!

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

High School Debut 8 by Kazune Kawahara: B+

From the back cover:
Yoh’s worried that a freshman seems to have the hots for Haruna, but Haruna is as oblivious as ever. So when the boy in question makes a move on her, how will she respond? More importantly, how will Yoh react?

Review:
Ah, High School Debut. How I love you so.

Only this series can make it palatable when the heroine receives an unsolicited smooch from some other guy and then goes absolutely bonkers trying to disinfect herself, pondering ways to turn back time, et cetera. While I didn’t enjoy Haruna having a “too stupid to live” moment, there were still a few scenes and comments that made me giggle, so it was okay in the end.

I really liked the story about Haruna’s birthday, though. Yoh’s under a lot of pressure to make it a special one, and even condescends to buy a massive shoujo-looking tome of birthday ideas. Haruna has actually purchased the same thing, and there’s a great pair of pages where the same ideas that mortify him make her all giddy.

In the end, she tries to help him out and relieve his stress by giving him suggestions, and they end up having a wonderful time. Volumes in this series usually end on wonderful moments between the main couple, and this one is no exception, as Yoh spells out for Haruna why he likes her and how happy she makes him.

This series makes me laugh, sniffle, and feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

S 4: Afterglow by Saki Aida and Chiharu Nara: B-

Masaki Shiiba was a detective investigating the manufacture of illegal firearms and Keigo Munechika was his “S,” an informant who played a key role in Shiiba’s information gathering. At some point in the past, the two began a romantic relationship, but a powerful yakuza boss with a grudge against Munechika wants to see him suffer and so hires a hitman who’ll receive one million yen every time he shoots Munechika.

As the fourth volume begins, Munechika lies hospitalized and Shiiba has turned in his resignation and bought an illegal gun with the intention of killing the man responsible—Takanari Godou—who also might’ve had something to do with the death of Shiiba’s sister eight years earlier. Shiiba gets as far as confronting Godou at gunpoint, but the other man manages to exploit his weaknesses in such a way that he agrees to do Godou’s bidding in exchange for the hit against Munechika being called off.

Let me be clear on one thing: I am not comparing S to great works of literature. As far as yaoi novels go, however, it seems to be better than most. True, the writing is facile, with a blatant disregard for the admonition “show, don’t tell,” but at least the story is trying to be about something more than sex. In fact, there’s only one sex scene in the whole book and it’s between two men who genuinely love each other. Despite Godou’s attempts to humiliate Shiiba while the latter is in his clutches, no nonconsensual scenes result. That alone is worthy of praise.

The basic plot is “the good guys versus Godou,” and I had no trouble getting into it, though the finer details never really coalesced for me. Nearly all of the characters are conflicted in some way, especially Shiiba, whose ruminating upon past events fills in the blanks pretty well. Throughout, I could easily visualize the action, so it felt a lot like reading a novelization of a story originally told in manga format.

There are some problems, though. After much is made of Shiiba needing to stay at Godou’s house in order to protect Munechika, there are no consequences when he leaves. When Shiiba is reunited with Munechika, who has some powerful connections himself, Munechika’s people simply say, “Oh yes, we know about the hitman,” and that’s that. It’s all very anticlimactic. Also, two characters, including the main villain, have similar angsty backgrounds that involve a mother’s inappropriate love for either her son or her son’s half-brother and her subsequent early demise. I’m not sure what the author was trying to say there.

DMP’s packaging is a mixed bag. A color illustration is included, which I appreciate—Chiharu Nara’s art is quite nice and depicts both Shiba and Munechika as mature, masculine men—but there are many grammatical errors in the text. Most of these are things that should’ve been easily caught, like “the wings itself aren’t blue,” while others, like “He took the bouquet from the employee’s hands, who looked conflicted,” conjure up amusing mental images of unusually expressive appendages.

If you’re looking for a yaoi novel with an emphasis on plot, then S might suit you to a T.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt: B+

From the back cover:
Shots rang out in Savannah’s grandest mansion in the misty, early morning hours of May 2, 1981. Was it murder or self defense? The question captivated the city’s Society, high and low, for over a decade.

John Berendt, a veteran New York magazine writer and editor, traveled to Savannah and, having become enchanted by this isolated remnant of the Old South, made it his second home. Over a period of eight years, he encountered the city’s eccentric characters, became involved in bizarre adventures, and closely followed the unpredictable twists and turns of a landmark murder case.

Review:
A literary account of a crime + old houses + the South = a book with my name all over it.

It’s kind of hard to categorize Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, since it’s not a straight-up account of a murder. Instead, Berendt takes his time in bringing the “beguiling” city of Savannah to life, from its high society—the rich businessmen and who belong to the yacht club, the well-bred married ladies who gather to play cards every month, et cetera—to those who society would disdain, like a drag queen with massive attitude and a practitioner of black magic. Fully the first half of the book is the author getting introduced to various colorful characters and hearing tales about crazy parties and ancient yet salacious scandals that haven’t been forgotten. It’s all very interesting to read about—reads like fiction, really—but the picture Berendt paints makes me glad I don’t live there or know any of these people!

The crime part comes in when Jim Williams, a man who wasn’t born into wealth but earned it through his own savvy for antiques, shoots and kills his violent-tempered lover. He claims it’s a case of self-defense, though there are certain pieces of evidence that would indicate otherwise. Williams ends up getting tried for the crime four separate times on account of various errors and hung juries, and in desperation ends up turning to a black magic practitioner, Minerva, for help. It’s from an expedition to a graveyard with Minerva that the book derives its title.

I found it interesting that at first, Williams comes across as very urbane and polished and when he first consults Minerva, he’s pretty dismissive about what she’s doing. As time wears on and he grows more desperate, he begins to believe in things like curses and ghosts bearing grudges more and more. It’s like you’re seeing him come a bit unhinged before your eyes. I shan’t spoil the outcome because, really, the book reads rather like a mystery. We know who did it and how, but the mystery is whether he’ll eventually be acquitted and allowed to return to his posh life or if he’ll finally go to prison for good.

I might’ve rated the book more highly if there weren’t so many characters (or, I suppose, residents) who rubbed me the wrong way, but ultimately, I found it to be both well written and entertaining.