Black Cat 15-17 by Kentaro Yabuki: B

July 10, 2010 by 1 Comment

The last time I reviewed Black Cat, I said, “There are six volumes left of this series, and if they’re comprised of a huge epic battle between the sweepers and Creed and his goons, I think I could be quite happy indeed.” Well, I was wrong. Oh, my prediction as to the contents of these volumes was correct, but I wouldn’t describe myself as “quite happy” with the results. Not outright displeased or anything, but perhaps a little weary after a few volumes of it.

When we left off, the members of the Sweepers Alliance had converged upon Creed’s island fortress. Train, Eve, and Sven are all separated from one another and each wind up temporarily partnered with a new character. These three volumes are chiefly combined of fights between our heroes and members of Creed’s group/movement, The Apostles of the Stars, that generally last three chapters or so and frequently end with the victorious good guy convincing the defeated bad guy that it’s possible to change their ways and embark upon a new life.

And that wouldn’t be bad—in fact, when Eve takes her turn giving the speech, it has special resonance because of her personal evolution from living weapon to protector of the innocent—but it just happens over and over and over. Also, some of the supposedly awesome new skills the fighters come up with, like River’s Sonic Fist and Train’s Black Claw, just look really lame.

The high point of these volumes is the demonstration of how much Eve has grown. She is far more confident as a fighter, for one thing, having been motivated to practice her skills because of Train’s example, and is impressively badass in her fight against The Apostles’ Leon. More than that, though, it’s as if she has begun to truly understand what being a sweeper and putting one’s life on the line for others really means. I love that her maturation is considered an important enough part of the story that Yabuki finds time to focus on it a bit even in the midst of chaos.

When I first sat down to read these few volumes, I thought, “Oh, I have the final three volumes of the series out from the library, too. Maybe I can just devour all six at once!” After finishing this group, though, I definitely needed a break. I hope the finale can change things up enough to be truly satisfying.

Filed Under: Manga, Shounen Tagged With: ,

Saturn Apartments 1 by Hisae Iwaoka: B+

July 9, 2010 by 1 Comment

In this low-key, dystopic sci-fi story, a boy named Mitsu takes up his missing father’s occupation as a window washer in the hopes that it will yield answers about his disappearance, or maybe just life in general.

Humanity has vacated Earth. They were not, however, willing to move too far away from their former home, now declared a vast nature preserve, and have instead taken up residence in a gigantic ring around the planet. Within the ring, a very stratified society exists, with public facilities located on the relatively airy middle levels, spacious homes for the wealthy in the upper levels, and dark and cramped living conditions for everyone else in “the basement.” Saturn Apartments is essentially a slice-of-life story that follows Mitsu as he begins his new job (washing the ring’s external windows) and interacts with residents from the various levels of society. Most of the guild’s work is either assigned by the government or commissioned by the very rich, so when his first job is cleaning windows on the lower level, it’s rare.

This job has been requested by a young couple who are about to get married—the groom-to-be is Sohta, a very bright young man who obtained an advanced degree with the hopes of finding a job in the middle levels. Only after Sohta graduated was he told that, even if he goes to grad school, he’s still not going to be employable because he’s from the basement. He ends up settling for a job as a technician in a power plant instead. Many of the following stories also serve to illustrate the plight of the basement-dwellers while offering in contrast the excesses of the rich, including one eccentric fellow who keeps a near-extinct sea creature in his home and another who tinkers with robots all day long and has the crew back to redo his windows over and over without offering any explanation as to what they’ve done wrong.

Meanwhile, Mitsu seeks to learn more about the accident that apparently claimed the life of his father, Akitoshi. Five years ago, Akitoshi’s rope was cut and he plunged toward Earth. Mitsu had always suspected that his father cut the rope intentionally, but when he’s sent to work at the same spot, he notices some damage to the ring’s hull that could’ve been responsible for severing the rope, along with many handprints that suggest his father fought to stay alive. Later, he meets his Akitoshi’s former partner, Tamachi, and begins to hear about a side of his father that he never knew.

As I wrote in my introduction, the world of Saturn Apartments is what I would call a low-key dystopia. Those who dwell in the basement aren’t too happy with their lot, but they seem resigned to the fact that they can’t do anything about it. The only one who really has any spunk is Jin, the experienced window washer with whom Mitsu is partnered, but his frustration at rich folks manifests as bursts of ill temper that pass quickly. Iwaoka’s art excels at depicting the oppressive feeling of life in the basement—narrow alleyways and towering buildings reinforce the notion of insurmountable obstacles and one can almost feel the weight of all the rooms above Mitsu’s pressing down on him.

Mitsu himself is perhaps the weakest link here because he is so much an observer. We do learn that his mother died when he was very young and that, after his father’s death, some kindly neighbors attempted to care for him but he always kept a respectful distance from them. Now that he’s finished school and is working, he is determined to pay his own way and seeks to find meaning in the work that he’s doing. Too, he believes that following in his father’s footsteps and working hard will enable him to learn something. What that is, exactly, he doesn’t know, but perservering feels important.

I certainly find Mitsu’s quest interesting and will keep reading about him and his world, but it’s as if he’s keeping a respectful distance from the reader, too, which makes it difficult to become more than simply curious how things will turn out.

This review was originally published at Comics Should Be Good.

Saturn Apartments is published in English by VIZ. One volume has been released so far, though two chapters of volume two are available on the SigIKKI website. The series is still ongoing in Japan; five volumes are currently available there.

Filed Under: Manga, Sci-Fi, Seinen Tagged With: ,

Banana Fish 5-6 by Akimi Yoshida: A-

July 6, 2010 by 9 Comments

I’ve always been intrigued by Ash Lynx, the lead character in Banana Fish, but suddenly I feel like I understand him so much better after reading these two volumes.

We begin with Ash and friends still in Los Angeles at the home of Dr. Alexis Dawson, one of the creators of Banana Fish. When Ash and Max are drawn away by a threat against Max’s family, Chinese mafia member Yut-Lung exorcises his influence over Ash’s friend, Shorter, and kidnaps Eiji, taking him back to New York to become Papa Golzine’s new plaything. Of course, the beautiful Yut-Lung is immediately turned into a tool by his own brother, who sends him as a gift for Golzine with the expectation that he’ll also act as spy.

Ash is captured soon thereafter—though not before Alexis Dawson can conveniently return and explain all about the origins of Banana Fish—and everyone reunites at Golzine’s mansion, where the true capabilities of the drug are demonstrated when Shorter, under the influence of Banana Fish, is compelled to attack Eiji, which in turn causes Ash to kill one friend to save another. Yut-Lung, once he sees how horrible Banana Fish truly is, helps Ash escape, leading to an incredibly awesome sequence where Ash raids the armory, gets Eiji and the others to safety, then returns for Shorter’s body and vengeance upon Dr. Abraham Dawson.

There’s really a ton of plot in these two volumes but what stands out to me the most are some amazing scenes involving Ash. I love, for example, how he cries over Shorter’s fate and in sympathy for what’s happening (or going to happen) to those he cares about. It really shows that, though he’s tough and brilliant, and has suffered and been mistreated, he’s not too damaged to love others. I love that so much of what he feels for Eiji is conveyed in simple looks, because there’s not enough time for words. I love that he looks a little confused that Eiji values him so much. And I love how he ignores the pleading of Abraham Dawson and simply empties his gun into the man who is, in a way, ultimately responsible for much of the misery that is Ash’s life.

It’s pretty impressive that Yoshida is not only able to show more facets of her lead character, but also move the plot along significantly, resolving the mystery of Banana Fish, setting up some of its possible ramifications, and blowing wide the scope of the story by showing that the White House and the US military are in cahoots with Papa Golzine.

It seems that the story is going to get a lot bigger than I was expecting—Ash versus the government?—but like his gang, with whom he’s finally reunited, I have faith that he’s going to survive, one way or another.

Filed Under: Manga, Shoujo Tagged With:

Portrait of M & N 1-2 by Tachibana Higuchi: B-

July 4, 2010 by 1 Comment

Much as with Natsuki Takaya’s Tsubasa: Those with Wings, I had been looking forward to the English release of Portrait of M & N by Tachibana Higuchi only because I enjoy later work, Gakuen Alice. Aaaand, much as with Tsubasa: Those with Wings, I ended up somewhat disappointed.

Portrait of M & N is a love story starring a beautiful girl named Mitsuru Abe and a handsome boy named Natsuhiko Amakusa. Matters are complicated, however, because each character harbors an embarrassing secret: Mitsuru is a masochist (or M) and Natsuhiko is a narcissist (or N). Ostensibly, these conditions developed as a result of the way they were treated by their parents—the most attention Mitsuru received from her mother was when she was being punished, while sickly Natsuhiko was forbidden to go outside and play with other kids, and thus developed a fixation for his own reflection.

Both Mitsuru and Natsuhiko are hoping for a normal, peaceful high school life, and things seem to be off to a good start because their good looks have attracted positive notice from their classmates. That is, until Mitsuru’s masochistic tendencies are triggered in Natsuhiko’s presence. It’s almost as if she has a split personality: when she is hit in the face, she suddenly becomes aggressively submissive, offering anybody who happens to be nearby the chance to do whatever they want to her. Against his better judgment, Natsuhiko becomes friends with Mitsuru and attempts to protect her whenever she goes into M mode, and thus reveals his own secret to her, one that turns him into a tearful, blushing fool whenever he catches sight of himself in a mirror.

If you’re looking for an accurate, sensitive portrayal of masochism or narcissism, you’re not going to find it here. This is a comedy, after all, and Higuchi seemingly delights in inventing ridiculous situations for the characters to endure—like a mandatory game of dodgeball, for example. A third character, Hijiri, enters the mix in toward the end of the first volume and, realizing Mitsuru’s secret pretty quickly, uses it to extract her cooperation in protecting him from a particular dog (he has a secret phobia of his own) on his way to and from school. Mitsuru’s closeness with two of the hottest guys in school does not go over well with the other girls, who treat her very poorly. These are the most tiresome scenes in the series, by far.

Setting aside the ridiculous and the tiresome, however, there really are some things I genuinely like about Portrait of M and N. Most of the time, a shoujo romance is presented from the girl’s point of view. She falls in love with the boy and we’re privy to her emotions, but we rarely, if ever, get inside his head. That is not the case here and, in fact, I believe there has been more attention paid to Natsuhiko’s developing feelings than Mitsuru’s.

As one bit of text reads, “She swiftly fell in love in spring, he realized he was falling in love in summer.” For Mitsuru, it was easy to fall in love with Natsuhiko, who is kind and understands her, but for Natsuhiko, the realization that he is falling in love with someone else is doubly important because it means that he can. All of his life, relatives and classmates have been vocal in their doubts that such a thing would ever be possible, but he has proved them wrong, and his happiness is mixed with not a little relief.

While I find Hijiri generally annoying, he is useful in that his interactions with Mitsuru force Natsuhiko to confront how he feels about her, and they end volume two by sharing an awkwardly cute moment together. It’s for scenes like these that I’ll continue to read Portrait of M & N and hope that there’s less to irk me in volumes to come.

Portrait of M & N is published by TOKYOPOP. The series is complete in Japan with six volumes, and two have been released in English so far.

Review copies provided by the publisher.

Filed Under: Manga, Shoujo Tagged With: ,

Time and Again 1-3 by JiUn Yun: A-

July 3, 2010 by 1 Comment

It’s China during the Tang Dynasty. Exorcist Baek-On Ju travels with his bodyguard, Ho-Yeon Won, dealing with ghosts, crafting talismans for his customers, and advising on various mysterious phenomena. The series is primarily episodic but is nonetheless affecting, owing to the quality of the stories and the painful memories that unite Baek-On and Ho-Yeon in self-incriminating suffering.

Many of the stories are based on folk tales, and Yun’s useful end notes are careful to note their origins, if applicable. Most are dark and full of surprising, sinister twists that make them exciting to read, even if the protagonists of the series are largely absent. Sometimes, too, we are able to care about these guest characters a great deal in even a short amount of time—the best example is the final chapter in volume one, in which a guard valiantly defends the concubine he has come to love, sight unseen, against an invading horde.

I initially wondered whether Baek-On, who is seen consulting with a governor’s minion on ways to “get rid” of concubines, was somehow responsible for the outcome of that story, but in later volumes, his obsession with karma and his conviction that he will have to pay for certain of his actions in his next life leads me to believe that he would never want to add to his karmic burden in this way. Karma plays a large role in this series, not just for Baek-On, but for his customers, who are urged to consider how their present actions will affect them in their next life or who are doomed to repeat a tragic cycle of events because they are not willing to listen to his advice.

Baek-On’s refusal to forget tragic events for which he feels responsible is the reason Ho-Yeon, a skilled warrior weary of killing people, feels comfortable with him. At this point, it’s unclear exactly what happened, but it appears that Ho-Yeon left his younger sister unprotected and that, while he was away, she was killed. He wanted to die too, that day, but forces himself to keep living, never forgiving himself for what happened. No longer willing to fight the living, he instead fights spiritual foes at Baek-On’s side.

Both characters are complex—Baek-On enjoys playing the lighthearted fool, though his moments of desperate emotion expose the lie, and Ho-Yeon seems to be the quiet, thoughtful one but has endured more dark times than one would suppose—and their relationship is quite fascinating. Even though Ho-Yeon would seem to be in an employee’s role, it’s clear that Baek-On likes and needs him a great deal. The real depth of their friendship is not apparent in volume one, but by the third volume it’s been fleshed out quite nicely.

There are a few things that bug me about the series. It seems that Yun was still fine-tuning some ideas after the first few chapters were written, which causes some inconsistencies down the line. In volume three, for example, Baek-On will not allow a ghost to have her revenge. This is a little odd because, in the very first chapter, that’s exactly what he does, and takes his client’s money for arranging the situation, to boot. Does abetting a ghostly murder not damage one’s karma? Too, many of the female characters in the book look incredibly similar, and the position of Ho-Yeon’s neck and face in a color illustration in volume two seems anatomically impossible.

Sometimes with an episodic series, I continue to read it because I like the characters. I certainly do like these characters and want to read more about them, but Time and Again is a welcome rarity in which the stories themselves are also a major draw. I’m sad that I have to wait until November for volume four!

Time and Again is published in English by Yen Press; three volumes have been released so far. The series is complete in Korea with a total of six volumes.

Review copies for volumes one and three provided by the publisher.

Filed Under: Manhwa, Supernatural Tagged With:

Team Spectacular: Micro-Preemie Power by Scott Wright: B+

July 1, 2010 by Leave a Comment

Book description:
When Scott Wright’s wife, Jodi, goes into labor during the 24th week of her pregnancy, the couple is terrified. After their son, Morgan, is born weighing 1 pound 8 ounces they must find ways of dealing with their micro-preemie baby’s daily struggle to survive.

Review:
The Team Spectacular webcomic wasn’t originally about how a micro-preemie named Morgan came into the world, but reader mail inspired artist Scott Wright to tell the story of his son’s birth over a series of strips in 2008. This slim 32-page comic collects those strips and also offers commentary on each, sometimes replicating and sometimes deviating from the original remarks that ran along with the strips on the website.

I received this book from a friend of mine with a micro-preemie of her own, and all I could do as I read it was imagine her and her husband going through these things: hearing pronouncements of doom and gloom, being told “prepare for the worst,” having to place their trust in total strangers… Did they, too, have trouble dreaming future dreams for their child while monitors beeped and alarms sounded?

Most of the comic aims for a positive spin—ending on a triumphant note as Morgan is finally able to come home after spending the first 131 days of his life in a hospital—and sometimes exaggerates situations for comedic effect. (Clearly, their family was far more supportive than the slovenly, slouchy person depicted in one panel.) One particular panel did affect me a good bit, though. In it, Wright depicts (verbally and visually) the NICU as a temporary home to many anxious families, and while one might be receiving good news, another might be experiencing devastation.

In the end, I am torn. I wish there were more. More detail about the various machines and the inner workings of the NICU, more detail about life at home caring for Morgan… But maybe I only think I want these things. Maybe I am better off with that triumphant ending, counting my lucky stars that I have never been through something so terrifying.

Filed Under: Comics

Foiled by Jane Yolen and Mike Cavallaro: B-

June 29, 2010 by 4 Comments

From the front flap:
Aliera Carstairs doesn’t fit in. She’s invisible at high school. She’s too visible at the fencing gym. Aliera’s starting to wonder… where does she belong?

Review:
Tenth grader Aliera Carstairs has established a routine: go to school, go to fencing class, go home. On Saturdays she plays a table-top RPG with her wheelchair-bound cousin, Caroline. She’s exceptionally good at fencing, but that doesn’t seem to matter much in her daily life, the drabness of which is conveyed by the art’s uniformly greenish-grey color scheme (also indicative of Aliera’s color blindness). When a cute boy named Avery Castle transfers into her high school and is assigned as her lab partner, Aliera forgets the golden rule of fencing: protect your heart.

While Aliera begins to fall for Avery despite some decidedly odd behavior on his part, she’s also ruminating a lot on her new practice foil, a $2 find (complete with gaudy “ruby”) that has helped improve her skills. One day, as she’s waiting in Grand Central Station for a tardy Avery to show up to a movie date, Aliera puts on her fencing mask to protect herself from a dive-bombing bird and can suddenly see a plethora of colorful fantasy creatures mingling with the ordinary travelers. She must immediately dispel some kind of evil cloud with her bejeweled foil, learns Avery’s secret (spoiled by Jane Yolen’s thank-you section in the front of the book), and is told that she’s a Defender of the Kingdom of Helfdon, but must receive more details from a Slayer. Or something.

I would like to say that Foiled is a story about a lonely girl finding her place, except she doesn’t quite manage to do so. Instead, it’s more of a prologue to a story about a lonely girl finding her place. I can only assume a sequel will follow. Not that Foiled isn’t enjoyable on its own, however. Aliera is a wry narrator with a conversational style and, though I do not get at all why she thinks Avery is dreamy when he obviously enjoys dissecting a frog way too much, I can sympathize with her excitement that any boy, let alone a cute one, has finally noticed her.

My main problem with the book is the somewhat jerky pace of the narrative. Some scenes are a little too choppy, some scenes of bickering between Aliera and Avery go on a little too long, and at one point, Aliera asks Avery, “What was that all about—the rats, the green glass crown?” except we haven’t seen a green glass crown! I can only assume that something was cut and an editor didn’t catch this reference. The cliffhanger—we end with many unanswered questions about Aliera’s role as Defender—is also awkwardly executed; even just a little more resolution would’ve made it feel like Foiled had functioned like a self-contained story while sustaining a sense of momentum going forward.

If a sequel to Foiled is released, I’ll read it. Perhaps I’ll appreciate this prologue more when I can actually see where it’s headed.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Filed Under: Comics, Fantasy Tagged With:

Saiyuki 1-3 by Kazuya Minekura: B

June 27, 2010 by 6 Comments

Although Saiyuki‘s sequels and prequel ran/run in magazines aimed at a female audience, the original was serialized in GFantasy, which, as MJ pointed out in her Black Butler review, features many shounen series created by and appealing to women. Therefore, while I associate Saiyuki with intense female fandom, it still technically qualifies for inclusion in the Shounen Sundays experiment.

Saiyuki is based on the famous Chinese tale, Xi-You-Ji, or Journey to the West. Accordingly, the story begins with a Buddist monk, Genjyo Sanzo, receiving orders from a bodhisattva to gather three youkai (supernatural beings) companions and travel with them to India to stop the resurrection of a dangerous youkai lord known as Gyumaoh. Whoever is attempting the revival has combined human science and youkai magic in forbidden ways, resulting in a “Minus Wave” that has turned normally peaceful youkai into monsters and threatens the harmonious cohabitation they have enjoyed with humans. Sanzo and his companions, who are protected from the Minus Wave by virtue of either part-human lineage or power limiters, duly travel west as ordered.

The real point of the story, however, lies not in thwarting Gyumaoh’s return—a plot which proceeds at a pace best described as glacial—but in the characters and their personal journeys. In addition to Genjyo Sanzo, the priest who believes only in himself, there’s Sha Gojyo, a half-youkai womanizer; Cho Hakkai, a generally level-headed manipulator of chi; and Son Goku, the energetic Monkey King. Each character has a painful backstory more detailed than the main plot and as they travel ever so slowly westward, their various encounters with violent youkai or would-be assassins lead to gradually more revelations about their lives before they met.

While some of them get along well from the start—it seems Gojyo and Hakkai have been friends for a long time—Sanzo, the sole human of the group, initially has trouble trusting that his companions will not someday succumb to the effects of the Minus Wave and turn on him. Gradually, trust grows all around, leading to some nice moments of what I like to call “teamy goodness.” The characters are so compelling—though I could do without the constant (and grating) siblingesque arguing between Gojyo and Goku—that one finds oneself reading just for them. I really don’t care at all about Gyumaoh, for example, and the youkai encounters are already getting repetitive, but the promise that the fourth volume will offer more information about Hakkai makes me eager to continue the series.

It’s not just the heroes that are likable, though. I love a story with sympathetic villains, and so far Saiyuki has produced several. The chief antagonist so far is Kougaiji, son of Gyumaoh who is (unwillingly) doing the bidding of his father’s lover on the basis of a promise to free his mother from some kind of… containment. He sends members of his band to target Sanzo and his group, eventually arriving in person with his (mostly) likable inner echelon of followers. One gets the sense that he regrets having to fight Sanzo, but has no choice if he wants to free his mother. Another villain turns out to be a former priestly comrade of Sanzo’s who voluntarily cursed himself so that he could protect other priests from murderous thieves responsible for the death of Sanzo’s master. This brings up some informative and painful memories for Sanzo, as one might expect.

Artistically, Minekura has improved a lot since the early days of Saiyuki. Even by volume three the art is looking better, but initially the contrast between the covers and interiors is pretty major. This especially manifests itself in characters with droopy eyes, like Sanzo and the bodhisattva, who end up looking severely deformed on a number of occasions. I’m also strongly reminded, by some of the costumes, character designs, and the feel of the story as a whole, of Yun Kouga’s Gestalt (not that this is a bad thing). They did run in the same magazine, so perhaps that’s not unusual.

Ultimately, I liked Saiyuki a lot more than I’d expected to. It’s no Wild Adapter, and it’s a little bit pokey and a little bit silly, but it’s still much better than I thought it would be.

Saiyuki is published in English by TOKYOPOP and all nine volumes have been released. TOKYOPOP also publishes a sequel, Saiyuki Reload, and has released nine volumes of that series, as well. No word yet on a release date for the tenth and final volume.

This is my fourth and final Shounen Sundays review. Thanks again to MJ for participating along with me. It’s been fun!

Filed Under: Manga, Shounen, Supernatural Tagged With:

Chi’s Sweet Home 1 by Konami Kanata: A-

June 24, 2010 by 8 Comments

From the back cover:
TAKE THIS KITTY HOME

Chi is a mischievous newborn American shorthair who, while on a leisurely stroll with her family, found herself lost. When we found Chi it was clear to us she was completely distraught as she longed for the warmth and protection of her mother. Feeling sympathy for the little furball, we quietly whisked her away, inviting her into our small apartment home… where pets are strictly not permitted. While we dread parting with her, there is no way she can stay.

Little Chi is a happy and healthy litter-box trained kitten. And while she can be a little bit of a handful, she has been a great source of joy in our lives and a wonderful companion to our young son. Living with Chi has completely changed our lives, and we are sure she will have the same impact with whomever gives her a good home.

Review:
One day, a small tabby kitten is enjoying a stroll with her mother and siblings when she’s distracted by a fascinating bird and ends up getting separated from her family. She’s found by a small boy named Yohei, and his parents end up taking care of her in their no-pets-allowed apartment while they try to find someone willing to take her. Eventually, of course, they wind up falling in love with the adorable kitten and decide to keep her.

At first, Chi is determined to get home, but pesky distractions like bowls of milk and tantalizingly drippy faucets keep delaying her departure. In time, memories of her feline mother fade and she begins to look on her human caretakers as her new family, even though they subject her to horrors like baths and trips to the vet. Chi’s kitty behavior is not idealized—a few chapters deal with her struggle to find an acceptable place to “wee,” for example—but is sympathetic because a) she’s incredibly cute and b) readers have insight to her thoughts, be they earnestly confused (see above re: wee) or simply exuberant (her delight in the discovery that Daddy’s jeans are the ideal surface for sharpening one’s claws).

I had fully expected to find Chi adorable—it took only eight panels for me to say “Aww!”—but hadn’t considered that Yohei would be just as cute. I’m not sure how old he is—not quite old enough to be perfectly potty trained himself—but he’s a clever little boy, and it’s he who ends up giving Chi the clue she needs to figure out that the box in the bathroom with all the lumpy stuff in it is sadly not a playpen but her new toilet. (As a side note, I had always figured that Chi’s name was related to chiisai, the Japanese word for small, but it actually relates to pee. Poor kitty!)

Although unusual for manga, the full-color artwork in Chi’s Sweet Home is absolutely gorgeous. It’s vibrant without being garish, and is such an integral part of the story that I find it impossible to imagine how this series must look when it runs in Morning, at which point in time the art is still black-and-white. I don’t think I even want to know! The warm colors, small trim size, and left-to-right orientation (a smart marketing decision on Vertical’s part) all contribute to a book that looks and feels like something kids would be drawn to. I’m going to test this theory by loaning it to my coworker’s daughter.

On a final note, Chi has at her disposal a vast array of facial expressions. As I read, a thought kept niggling at me: “This reminds me of something. What is it?!” After much pondering, I realized that some of the faces Chi makes remind me of Kimi ni Todoke’s Sawako in super-deformed moments. Presented for your consideration:

Chi’s Sweet Home is published in English by Vertical, Inc. Volume one will be released on June 29, 2010. The series is ongoing in Japan, where volume seven came out two months ago.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Filed Under: Manga, Seinen Tagged With:

The Color of Heaven by Kim Dong Hwa: C+

June 23, 2010 by 5 Comments

From the front flap:
Ehwa, now a confident young woman, finds herself in the same maddening situation as her mother: waiting for a man. Her mother hopes for the return of her roaming lover, and Ehwa, in turn, gazes up at the same moon as her fiancé Duksam, a farmer who has gone to sea to seek his fortune so that he can marry her.

Review:
I do honestly want to like The Color Trilogy. I like the idea of a mother and her daughter living together in a rural village in turn-of-the-century Korea. I like learning about food and traditions that are new to me. I like the detailed drawings of the landscape and, especially, the family kitchen. The problem is there’s just so much about the series that annoys me that I simply can’t like it.

The central plot of this volume is that Ehwa’s love, Duksam, has left town to attempt to make a living as a fisherman, and so she is left to wait around until he returns to marry her. Her mother is also waiting for her traveling salesman lover to stop by, so they proceed to have many, many conversations about men and how it’s the lot of women to wait for them. I’m not sure they ever talk about anything but men, actually.

I know that the limited scope of life for a woman in this time and place is historically accurate, and that for a mother to say, “There is nothing better in life than getting married” reflects a period where marriage provided the ultimate in protection for a woman. But still, I can’t help but get fired up by speeches like this:

After waiting and waiting, you begin to lose track of whether it’s the moon or the sun in the sky, and that’s when he comes in with a smile on his face. As soon as you see that face, all is forgotten and you begin chasing after his footsteps once again. That is the heart of a woman.

To be honest, I think a large part of my ire is due to the fact that The Color Trilogy is written by a man. If a woman wrote these things, I’d still be annoyed, but coming from a male author I can’t help but read such statements as downright condescending. Try as I might to view these attitudes through a historical lens, I’m simply unable to get over my knee-jerk reaction.

It isn’t only Ehwa and her mother who are obsessed with discussing men and women. Everyone in town gets into the metaphor that women are flowers waiting for butterflies (men) to alight upon them, and almost all of them talk in language that’s incredibly, ridiculously poetic. In an early example, Duksam says, “I’m going to head for the sea. The sea that’s as wet and salty as your tears, and as bold and clear as your eyes.” Now, I admit that I have little appreciation for poetry, but this sounds to me like something one would come up with as a parody of purple prose.

Every now and then someone speaks plainly, like when Duksam frankly discusses his fear of leaving Ehwa behind, which had me wishing for more of the same. All of the imagery and metaphor might appeal to some readers, but to me, I would’ve enjoyed The Color Trilogy a lot more had it been more straightforward.

I reviewed The Color of Heaven for this month’s Manga Manhwa Moveable Feast. More reviews and discussion of this trilogy can be found here.

Filed Under: Historical Fiction, Manhwa, MMF Tagged With:
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