The Lizard Prince 1 by Asuka Izumi: B-

lizardprinceFrom the back cover:
Canary is the princess of the kingdom of Linaria. Her father, the king, has promised her hand in marriage to Heath, the handsome prince of the kingdom of Gazania. Canary isn’t crazy about this, because Heath has a bad reputation. The Prince has his own reservations, and gets his brother Sienna to pose as him on their first date, convinced he’ll drive her away. But the plan backfires when chemistry ignites between the two. The only problem is, Sienna’s been under a spell, which turned him into a lizard. And once he’s done posing as his brother, he reverts back to that form! Will love really conquer all in this mixed-up triangle?

Review:
CMX does a great job finding all-ages shoujo fantasy titles that also appeal to older readers. I enjoyed both The Palette of 12 Secret Colors and Lapis Lazuli Crown, and while I think The Lizard Prince has some problems, it’s still a decent read.

When Princess Canary’s father announces that the time has come to discuss an arranged marriage, she is pragmatic enough to have been expecting it, though she is not so sanguine about her proposed mate. Prince Heath, heir to a neighboring kingdom, is rumored to be a drunken, womanizing lout and Canary wants nothing to do with him. Her father assures her that she need only meet him once and can then call things off, and she agrees. Meanwhile, Prince Heath has acquired some magical 24-hour body swap medicine and prevails upon his talking lizard pal/minion to switch places with him.

With the lizard inhabiting his body, the Prince Heath Canary meets is sweet and kind, and she falls in love with him. Awesomely, when Canary later meets the real Prince Heath she can tell instantly that he’s not the same person and, when she learns the truth behind the masquerade, unselfconsciously professes her love for the lizard. The moment she does so, the curse upon the lizard is lifted and he’s revealed to be Heath’s older brother, Sienna.

It’s patently clear that The Lizard Prince was meant to be a one-shot story. Events wrap up so neatly at the end of the first chapter that there’s not much else to be done. And yet, the tale continues with Canary and Sienna having a variety of episodic (and rather lame) adventures, like dealing with an imposter, helping some ghosts achieve closure, and caring for an infant. After fifteen years of living as a lizard, Sienna now possesses the ability to become one at will (though he has no control over when he becomes human again), and frequently faces peril while in this form. It’s sometimes amusing, but not often.

Though it may be similar in feel to Lapis Lazuli Crown, The Lizard Prince suffers in comparison because there’s no point to the story. Both Canary and Sienna are likable characters—a “strong woman and pathetic man” combo that the author professes to prefer—and much of the enjoyment derived from reading the volume is on account of them, but it’s disappointing that they’re not given more to actually do.

Izumi’s artistic style isn’t particularly distinctive, but it is nice to look at. Sienna doesn’t look much like any lizard I’ve ever seen—he kind of looks like a plushy comma with teeny legs—but I doubt realism was even attempted. The biggest problem is that it’s occasionally hard to determine in what order the panels should be read; I made the wrong choice a few times.

The Lizard Prince is pleasant but forgettable. If the series were any longer, I’m not sure I’d bother continuing, but since it’s only two volumes long, I will likely seek out the second for the sake of completion.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

East by Edith Pattou: B

eastFrom the back cover:
Rose is the youngest of seven children, meant to replace her dead sister. Maybe because of that, she’s never really fit in. She’s always felt different, out of place, a restless wanderer in a family of homebodies. So when an enormous white bear mysteriously shows up and asks her to come away with it—in exchange for health and prosperity for her ailing family—she readily agrees.

Rose travels on the bear’s broad back to a distant and empty castle, where she is nightly joined by a mysterious stranger. In discovering his identity, she loses her heart—and finds her purpose—and realizes her journey has only just begun.

As familiar and moving as Beauty and the Beast, yet as fresh and original as only the best fantasy can be, East is a bold retelling of the classic tale “East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” a sweeping story of grand proportions.

Review:
Based on the fairy tale “East of the Sun, West of the Moon” (a translation of which can be found here), East is the story of a girl named Rose who agrees to go away with a white bear in exchange for the healing of her sick sister and an improvement to her impoverished family’s circumstances. She is taken to a castle in a mountain where she is well-provided-for, though she’s troubled by a nightly mystery: each evening, after the lamps have been extinguished, a stranger comes and lays down next to her. She has never seen his face, for he’s always gone by morning. When curiosity overcomes her and she uses an enchanted candle to catch a glimpse of the man, she finds she has done him a grievous wrong. He is the white bear and must now travel east of the sun, west of the moon to become the consort of the troll queen. Rose is determined to rescue him.

Pattou adheres pretty closely to the original story—sometimes too closely, as I occasionally found myself waiting impatiently through familiar bits for parts with more action—and nicely captures the magical quality that it possesses. She embellishes many details, like Rose’s large family and the specifics of her journey north, which is far less fantastic here than in the fairy tale. She alternates narrators between Rose, Rose’s father, Rose’s brother, the white bear, and the troll queen, and gradually the full picture of events is revealed. I particularly like Pattou’s interpretation of troll culture; instead of ugly beasts, Pattou depicts them as beautiful and pale, though rough-skinned, and capable of both cruelty and love.

Rose is no passive damsel, which is one of the reasons the original tale is so noteworthy, and makes for a good protagonist, but certain aspects of the story do seem to go on too long. There’s a lot of emphasis on the sewing projects she undertakes, for example, and the description of her journey to rescue the man is extremely dull. I have little patience for long journeys, I admit, but this one had my eyes glazing over; not even the nifty Norwegian setting could save it. Some aspects of the ending are a little irksome, too, but ultimately it wraps up in a satisfying fashion.

I’m left wondering whether I would’ve liked East more if I hadn’t been familiar with the original story. Ultimately, my final recommendation would be to read this first, and then investigate the tale that was its inspiration.

M is for Magic by Neil Gaiman: A-

misformagicFrom the back cover:
Master storyteller Neil Gaiman presents a breathtaking collection of tales for younger readers that may chill or amuse, but that always embrace the unexpected:

* Humpty Dumpty’s sister hires a private detective to investigate her brother’s death.

* A teenage boy who has trouble talking to girls finds himself at a rather unusual party.

* A boy raised in a graveyard makes a discovery, and confronts the much more troubling world of the living.

Review:
In the style of Ray Bradbury, who collected selected short stories for a younger audience into the anthologies R is for Rocket and S is for Space, Neil Gaiman presents M is for Magic. Most of the stories are available in other compilations—namely Smoke and Mirrors and Fragile Things—but there are a few exceptions. The stories cover a wide variety of topics, from fairy tails to Arthurian legend, from graveyard denizens to awkward teens, and employ a variety of styles, like the hard-boiled detective narrative of “The Case of the Four and Twenty Blackbirds” or the story-within-a-story structure of “October in the Chair.”

I don’t consider myself much of a fan of short stories, so it was no surprise when some of these failed to thrill me. The aforementioned hard-boiled story was not a favorite, for example, since I don’t much care for that genre and stories that try to be clever by citing lots of fairy tales irritate me for some reason. I also found “Sunbird,” the tale of an Epicurean club in pursuit of meat they’ve not yet tasted, to be rather long and boring, even though its ending very nearly made up for that.

Some, though, are really great, and I’ll take them in ascending order of awesomeness.

1. “How to Talk to Girls at Parties”
Shy Enn and his more suave friend, Vic, are on their way to a party, but they’ve left the directions behind. They end up finding a party, though it’s not the one they’d wanted, and Vic encourages Enn to chat up some girls, which he tries to do. This story’s fantastic twist is that each girl seems to be the embodiment of a concept, like “the universe” or “poetry,” but it also works as a metaphor for how incomprehensible the world of girls can seem to an inept teenage boy. I particularly like the bits where one girl is going on about being an alien tourist or something, and the whole time Enn’s just wondering if he should dare to put his arm around her.

2. “Troll Bridge”
At the age of seven, a young boy encounters a troll who announces his intention to eat the boy’s life. The boy bargains for his release, promising to return once he has experienced more of life. The boy encounters the troll twice more and the culmination of their final meeting is great. I admire that Gaiman allows the protagonist of this one to be a bit of a jerk, offering his first love to the troll in exchange for himself and eventually realizing that he’s incapable of loving anyone. As in “How to Talk to Girls at Parties,” Gaiman works human truth and keen observations into his fantastic works.

3. “Chivalry”
A widow makes a weekly pilgrimage to the Oxfam shop, and one day picks up a golden goblet that would look swell upon her mantel. Shortly thereafter, she’s visited by a knight on horseback, who claims to be Galahad on a quest for the Holy Grail. He offers many treasures in exchange for the grail, but none would look so fine upon the mantel in the widow’s eyes, so she refuses. Eventually, he tempts her with a fruit that would promise eternal youth and, wanting him to go away, she finally accepts some very powerful stones that would make lovely knicknacks and sends him away. I love this one for the subtlety of the widow’s reaction to the promise of the fruit and her quiet decision to resist it and continue to pursue her quiet existence.

4. “October in the Chair”
The first description of this story that comes to mind is “bloody brilliant.” We begin with a gathering of the twelve months of the year, sitting around a bonfire and telling each other stories. Each month has got a particular personality, like February, who’s a stickler for the rules, or April, who’s both cruel and sensitive. When it’s his turn, October, who is in charge this month, tells a story of a boy who’s teased by his brothers, runs away and encounters a ghost, and then possibly chooses to live a ghostly life himself. October’s story has no definitive end, which may bother some, but I thought both tales were excellent. The concept itself is supremely creative, too, and reminds me a bit of the Sandman comics.

Even though there were a few stories that didn’t do it for me, on the whole, the collection is so good that I’ll probably be checking out the compilations from which these stories were selected. I guess if anyone could make me into a short story fan, it’d be Neil Gaiman.

The Witches by Roald Dahl: A

witchesFrom the back cover:
Grandmamma loves to tell about witches. Real witches are the most dangerous of all living creatures on earth. There’s nothing they hate so much as children, and they work all kinds of terrifying spells to get rid of them. Her grandson listens closely to Grandmamma’s stories—but nothing can prepare him for the day he comes face-to-face with The Grand High Witch herself!

Review:
Though I’ve counted Willy Wonky and the Chocolate Factory among my favorite movies for 25 years now (side note: holy crap, I am so old), I’d never actually read any of Roald Dahl’s books before The Witches, though I own several. Rest assured that I shall now be rectifying this deplorable failing forthwith.

The Witches is the story of an unnamed boy who loves to listen to his grandmamma’s tales about witches. She tells him all about how to spot a witch (even when she’s masquerading as an ordinary woman) as well as their burning desire to exterminate children, and so the boy is well able to realize his predicament when a holiday in Bournemouth coincides with the annual meeting of all the witches in England. Trapped in a ballroom with the witches as they discuss a cunning plan to turn all the children in Britain into mice, he is eventually found out and turned into a mouse himself.

Does the story end there? No, it does not. He and his grandmamma (Dahl does love these grandparent/grandkid pairings, doesn’t he?) execute a cunning plan of their own, save the children, and end up with a new quest to keep them busy for the rest of their admittedly limited life spans.

What a perfect children’s book! It’s certainly imaginative, and comes with many amusing illustrations by Quentin Blake. It avoids familiar pitfalls, like a tedious interim wherein the mouse-boy must struggle to make himself understood by humans; Dahl dispenses with this entirely by allowing the mouse to speak normally. It doesn’t shirk from darkness—the boy remains a mouse and, as such, his life expectancy is dramatically reduced. And lastly, it’s just plain riveting, for an adult as well as a kid.

Sometimes children’s fiction just doesn’t click with me, even if I like the concept, but that wasn’t a problem whatsoever with The Witches. No wonder Dahl is so beloved; turns out he’s earned every bit of it.

13th Boy 1-2 by SangEun Lee: B

13thboy_1There’s really no way to describe 13th Boy other than “odd,” but it’s odd in the best possible way.

It’s the story of Hee-So Eun, a fifteen-year-old girl who is already on her twelfth boyfriend, Won-Jun Kang, to whom she confessed on a national TV program. Alas, their relationship only lasts a month before Won-Jun unexpectedly breaks up with her. Hee-So refuses to give up, however, and concocts various schemes to get closer to her “destined love,” like stealing his wallet and contriving to get into the girl scouts so that she can go on a camping trip with him. Her efforts are unwillingly aided by Whie-Young, a boy with feelings for Hee-So, and Beatrice, a (male) talking cactus.

On its surface, 13th Boy reminds me a bit of Sarasah. With her unquenchable persistence in the face of rejection, Hee-So is similar to Ji-Hae, and they both seem to share a taste for cool and aloof boys with nothing to recommend them but their looks. Quickly, though, 13th Boy proves itself the better series by actually giving Won-Jun a semi-pleasant personality, though Hee-So is still clearly more in love with the idea of him than any qualities he may possess. There are also many unexpectedly strange elements like, oh, say, a talking cactus, a weird connection between Won-Jun and some former kindergarten classmates, and the magical abilities that Whie-Young possesses and keeps using to help out Hee-So even though he knows that using his power shortens his life span.

13thboy_2Often when a series tries to juggle this many weird elements it ends up an awful mess, but that doesn’t happen with 13th Boy. There’s enough of a forward momentum with the main story that the subplots are free to develop more slowly, and I never got the sense that the creator didn’t know where she was going with all of this. By the end of the second volume, for example, several things are already more clear and the possible directions the story could take are numerous.

I’m definitely looking forward to seeing where this unpredictable tale goes, but I do have one fairly major problem with the series: I don’t like Hee-So. She does some dumb stuff in pursuit of “love,” which is kind of irritating, but what’s worse is her frequent reliance on “I’m a weak girl” as an excuse for why she can’t be expected to do certain things. With Whie-Young there to bail her out at every turn, she never has to take responsibility for her ill-considered actions at all and clearly expects to be able to coast along on cuteness all while simultaneously criticizing another girl who takes the same ploy—if it is a ploy in her case—to extreme levels. I can only hope that she matures as the series continues, else all the loquacious cacti in the world won’t be able to save it.

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Takeru: Opera Susanoh Sword of the Devil 1-2 by Kazuki Nakashima and Karakarakemuri: B

Upon a string of islands known as Oyashima, a country called Amamikado is attempting to assert its dominance by sword and by spell, the tales of its brutality making for easy victories over the frightened populace. The only nation able to oppose the Amamikado onslaught is Jagara, renowned for its warrior women and fabled to have on its side the legendary Sword of Susanoh. As the story opens, a young man arrives from the mainland in search of a wooden box, which, when united with its twin already in his possession, will reveal a clue as to the sword’s location.

After retrieving the box, with the help of a burly fellow, and acquiring some additional (paid) assistance in the form of a stealthy assassin, the young man introduces himself. He is Izumo-no-Takeru, the muscular guy is Kumaso-no-Takeru, and the assassin is Oguna-no-Takeru. The trio sets off to Jagara in search of the sword, but things in the seemingly idyllic jungle kingdom are not as they seem; tragedy and betrayal soon follow.

Takeru comes as something of a surprise, as I hadn’t expected it to be this good. The plot is engaging, moving swiftly and offering up some startling scenes and genuinely unexpected reversals of fortune. The characters are likable. There’s humor. And, as a special bonus, there are extremely capable female warriors whose queen, Miyazu, is effortlessly and awesomely competent in a variety of situations.

On the flip side, sometimes the speed of the narrative works to its disadvantage. I don’t want to spoil anything, but the big reveal in volume two leaves me with some unanswered questions, and with the story proceeding at such a pace, I’m not sure there will be time to come back and answer them. There’s also little chance to develop the lead trio beyond their types. Izumo is the inscrutably cheerful leader; Kumaso is the forthright, personable hothead; and Oguna is the reserved and distrustful ninja. I can’t help thinking certain events would elicit more of a reaction beyond “Oh, cool!” if readers had been given more time to get to know the characters.

takeru2I like Karakarakemuri’s art a lot; it’s lovely in general and features interesting layouts and perspectives, some unique character designs, and a good sense of setting. Also, I love how she uses body language to demonstrate character; this is best seen in a scene in which Izumo plops down on someone’s couch and, while engaged in conversation, plucks a flower from a vase and fiddles with it until his annoyed host snatches it away to return it to its proper place. The art’s only flaw is that action sequences are often unclear, particularly as it pertains to Oguna. Since his primary asset is his speed, his attacks are frequently portrayed as slashes of white, and it can be hard to tell what just happened. “Did he really cut that guy’s head off?” I had to wonder at one point and, y’know, beheadings generally aren’t known for their ambiguity.

At only four volumes, this series doesn’t require much of an investment and offers a genuinely entertaining fantasy adventure. I’ll definitely be following it until its conclusion.

Takeru: Opera Susanoh Sword of the Devil (sometimes written as takeru: OPERA SUSANOH SWORD OF THE DEVIL, though that looks silly next to a cover that reads otherwise) is published by TOKYOPOP. Two volumes have been released so far. The third volume will be released in December 2009 and the fourth and final volume in March 2010.

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

The Lapis Lazuli Crown 2 by Natsuna Kawase: B+

lapislazuli2After receiving encouragement from a boy called Radi, really Prince Radian in disguise, Miel Violette has been devoting herself to her magical studies in order to earn a place as a palace magician and be of use to Radi. The events of volume two span at least eighteen months, as Miel first enrolls in a kind of prep course, then takes the entrance exam for the palace training school, earns a place in the Barrier Bureau (responsible for keeping out magical burglars, essentially), and finally clears her family name by exhibiting her profound physical strength and magical power in a ceremony to reinforce the barrier protecting the entire country of Savarin (a barrier manufactured by the lapis lazuli crown, which finally makes an appearance in the series bearing its name).

Through the author’s comments, it seems clear that a more leisurely progression through these events was originally planned but had to be accelerated to comply with “page constraints.” Despite sacrificing some elements, the story still hangs together well and offers a satisfying conclusion, one that manages to work in a little palace intrigue to boot. I like that Miel is encouraged to demonstrate both her prodigious strength and magical ability, and that the emphasis is on achieving her place through her own merits rather than by any patronage of Radi’s. The romance between them takes a backseat to the rest of the story, which is fine by me since it really is comparatively less interesting.

Kawase’s art continues to be remind me of Nari Kusakawa, which is definitely a compliment, and CMX’s packaging is lovely. The most glaring flaw in this edition, however, is how the name of Miel’s friend, Seigle, is often spelled as Seagle. It’s as if they changed it midway and forgot to make sure it was consistent throughout.

On the whole, The Lapis Lazuli Crown is a cute and enjoyable series, and because of its rating would definitely be a good choice for kids and libraries.

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

Summer Fun with Shonen Jump

tegamibachiI reviewed four summer releases from VIZ’s Shonen Jump imprint for a post over at Comics Should Be Good.

On the agenda are:
Tegami Bachi: Letter Bee 1 by Hiroyuki Asada: B-
It’s very pretty and atmospheric, but some aspects of the story are rather cheesy. I will probably still check out volume two, though.

Gin Tama 13 by Hideaki Sorachi: D
I know some find this series amusing, but it would seem I’m not among them. Like… really really not among them.

Wāqwāq 1 by Ryu Fujisaki: C+
The plot’s convoluted and the art is muddled but I’ll be damned if I didn’t still kind of like it.

Naruto 45 by Masashi Kishimoto: C
Most of this didn’t make sense to me and what did make sense was very silly. Also, Sasuke is a total angstmuffin.

All in all, it was a fun experiment but I’ve kind of had my fill of shounen for the time being.

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Animal Academy 2 by Moyamu Fujino: C+

The second volume of Animal Academy is much the same as the first. Neko Fukuta and her shapeshifting animal classmates engage in low-key adventures like searching for a lost camera or deciding which club to join. There’s one chapter entitled “Hunt for the Hair Clip,” which should give you an idea of what kind of stories to expect. Some imparting of lessons about friendship is also involved—nominally for the animals attempting to pass as human but presumably for the readers as well—but is handled with some subtlety.

The transition between these everyday moments and some darker aspects of the tale is handled less well, however, making for some jerky segues. I’m actually kind of interested in the bigger mystery that seems to be brewing, but I lack confidence that it’s going to escalate in any kind of meaningful way. Still, it’s early days yet and Animal Academy might just surprise me. I certainly like it more than I’d expected to based on the premise alone.

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

Fairy Tail 7 by Hiro Mashima: B+

From the back cover:
Fairy Tail’s rival guild, Phantom Lord, has taken the competition to dangerous levels by smashing the Fairy Tail building and nearly killing three wizards. What is Fairy Tail’s response? A full-frontal assault on Phantom Lord! But this clash is all part of the Phantom Lord’s evil plot to capture a coveted prize.

Review:
Volume seven of Fairy Tail is a lot of fun. The battle between Fairy Tail and Phantom Lord continues on, and not only are some nifty villains introduced on the Phantom Lord side, we also learn more about some members of Fairy Tail who’ve remained in the background thus far. True, a couple of the chapters could be summarized as “Mirajane and Elfman have angst,” but it’s about time some of these folks got some attention.

Showcasing the new faces on both sides means Mashima gets to show off his talent for devising interesting new magical abilities. The most devastating new power to be introduced in this volume is called “drain,” wielded by a wind magic user, which essentially blows a person’s powers right out of them. Elfman turns out to have a pretty cool ability too, and now that he’s overcome his angst enough to use it, I wonder whether he’ll figure more prominently in the story from now on.

Lastly, I must commend Mashima for not taking this in the exact direction I was expecting. I was dreading another entry into the “our heroine is kidnapped by the enemy and our heroes bravely battle to retrieve her” school of shounen plotting, but Lucy surprised me by escaping her confinement pretty quickly. Everyone does still battle because they refuse to hand her over, but at least she wasn’t wholly passive about it.