Detroit Metal City 1 by Kiminori Wakasugi: C

dmc1From the back cover:
By all appearances, Soichi Negishi is a sweet, well-mannered boy who loves Swedish pop music, trendy boutiques, and all things fashionable. But at the same time he’s also Krauser II, front man for Detroit Metal City, an indie death metal band whose popularity increases by the day. Once the DMC makeup goes on and Soichi takes the stage, his natural talents as a death metal god can’t help but flourish. Is this the band he’s truly destined to be in?

Review:
I knew going in that there was a chance I wouldn’t like Detroit Metal City—the front cover describes it as “gleefully profane” and “wildly ridiculous,” after all—but there were also some aspects that suggested I might, like a sense of the absurd (Krauser II riding a tractor must be seen to be believed) and songs with titles like “Death Penis.” In the end, I struggled to finish the first volume and must conclude that this series is simply not for me.

This is the story of Soichi Negishi, who moved to Tokyo for college with the ambition of starting an indie pop band. Instead, he finds himself taking the stage as Krauser II, frontman for the death metal group, Detroit Metal City. While DMC has legions of screaming fans, no one is much interested in Soichi’s music except for a few old classmates from whom he hides his affiliation with DMC. Throughout the volume, he tries to find an outlet for his own musical sensibilities, but gets humiliated one too many times and seems to be on the verge of embracing his role as Krauser by the final pages.

Predictably, I did not enjoy the rampant profanity or crude characters like DMC’s boss and drummer, but I might’ve been able to overlook that if Soichi, in his normal, everyday guise, was actually a likable person. In fact, his “normal” mode is as much of a guise as Krauser is, since beneath the mild-mannered surface lurks a person capable of plotting revenge on DMC fan who accused him of groping her on the train by dressing as Krauser and planning to have lots and lots of sticky sex with her. I understand that that’s probably the point—the line between Soichi and Krauser is much more blurry than he’d care to admit—but I personally don’t enjoy stories in any medium where I can’t find anybody to like.

On the positive end of the spectrum, there are some funny moments (see above re: tractor) and some entertaining juxtapositions, like when Soichi’s classmate sings one of his old songs while a DMC tune plays in the background, or when an e-mail from Soichi’s mom asking “You eating enough, hon?” is superimposed over a gruesome video shoot in which Krauser chomps on some bats. My favorite line comes after Krauser, in full make-up, helps a rival band member get over his nerves by rehearsing in a bathroom. The other guy is all grateful, to which Krauser replies, “I am the devil. You shouldn’t get too attached.”

Ultimately, I didn’t hate Detroit Metal City, but I’m not planning to read more. I might, however, follow plot developments from afar to see whether anything interesting comes of Soichi’s decision to accept his death god fate.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Antique Bakery 1-4 by Fumi Yoshinaga: A

antiquebakery1Last month, I debuted the Manga Marching Orders feature, in which I invite readers to help me decide what to read next. The results were very close, but, in the end, Antique Bakery came out on top.

On the surface, Antique Bakery is the story of four men who work together at a bakery, providing delicious cakes for their customers. What that simplified summary fails to mention, however, is that the characters are subtlely changed by working together and that their growth is the real focus of the series. They’re nuanced and multi-layered and each has something he needs to overcome.

Keiichiro Tachibana is the stubbly 32-year-old owner of the bakery, “Antique.” He comes from a rich family and there’s nothing he can’t do, except manage to convince a woman his feelings are sincere. A consummate salesman, he’ll be in the midst of showing his real personality to his staff, but will seamlessly slip into a smilingly attentive persona as soon as a customer enters the shop. Fumi Yoshinaga shows this trait of Tachibana’s from the start, but it’s only at the end of volume two that we learn the shocking reason he acquired this skill, and that it’s a deeply ingrained habit that, while it might prove useful in some circumstances, is really hurting him when it comes to forming close personal relationships.

antiquebakery2Yusuke Ono was a former classmate of Tachibana’s and confessed his love to him on graduation day. After being cruelly rejected, he contemplated suicide, but decided that he first wanted to act on the homosexual desires he’d been harboring. This leads him into a life of reckless promiscuity, and he’s known as a “gay of demonic charm” for his ability to seduce any man, gay or straight, who catches his eye. He’s an excellent pastry chef, though he’s in it for the money rather than from true love of pastries, and has been fired from several establishments for the romantic turmoil his presence stirs up. Ono has issues being around women, stemming from his hatred of his adulterous mother, but gradually begins to conquer this fear, especially after his sister imparts some information that reveals his father is not entirely blameless, either. Too, towards the end of the series, he seems to be resolved to take better care of himself and look for something more than a fleeting sexual encounter.

Eiji Kanda is the youngest of the crew. A former street thug and boxer with a sweet tooth, he has the most colorful past of the group. Detached retinas forced him to give up his preferred career, and while pastry-making starts off as his second choice, he shows a lot of talent and dedicates himself to training under Ono, to whom he becomes very attached. Eiji was abandoned as a child and, though Ono and Tachibana believe it’s a good thing when they mention he might be able to branch out on his own one day, the prospect terrifies Eiji, who’s found a warm and welcoming home at last. Though he appears tough on the outside, and has no compunction with using violence, Eiji is really loyal and protective and more affected by the opportunity he’s been given than one would assume.

antiquebakery3Chikage Kobayakawa, age 34, is the last to join the group. The son of the Tachibana family housekeeper, he’s known Tachibana since childhood and has been sent by the family to keep an eye on him. Upon his arrival, Tachibana puts him to work at “Antique.” Though he looks rather like a yakuza, tall and intimidating in his sunglasses, Chikage is actually incredibly pure and sweet, though lamentably slow on the uptake. He falls victim to Ono’s demonic charm, but the latter refuses to take advantage of someone so wholly good. While he doesn’t have as many personal problems to battle as the others, he has his own challenges. Small victories are what Chikage achieves, like moving out on his own and becoming more useful around the shop.

I love each of these characters, but more than that I love how skillfully and carefully Yoshinaga develops them. Instead of dumping all of the above information on us at once, we receive it in bits and pieces, with later revelations causing the significance of earlier moments to suddenly become clear. The best example of this is probably Ono’s confession to Tachibana. The first scene in the series, it remains an important moment hanging between them, and it’s not until the end of volume four that we truly understand what experiences and thoughts made Tachibana react so cruelly. And although a few chapters seem to focus more on the customers than the staff, there’s always a reason for it. Chapter four, for example, purports to be about a failed boxer and his pregnant girlfriend, but Yoshinaga uses it to elicit a confession from Eiji that he’d do anything to go back to being a boxer if he could.

antiquebakery4Yoshinaga’s spare, expressive artwork is also an integral part of what makes the series work. Backgrounds are minimal, putting the focus squarely on the characters, though the cakes themselves are rendered in loving detail. I especially love the way changes in character expression are depicted, devoting a few successive panels to Eiji’s face as it cycles from challenging to relaxed to amused, for example. It’s easy for the reader to tell what the character has been thinking by the way his face changes, but it’s also easy for other characters to tell, as well. Again, the issue of Ono’s love confession is an excellent example. Near the end of the series, Ono mentions that he has a much clearer impression of Tachibana now than he did in high school. Tachibana replies, “Is that right? I’ve always remembered you… since graduation day.” And simply because of the way Tachibana turns away after saying this, Ono is able to recognize how much Tachibana truly regrets what happened. He looks surprised at first, then smiles faintly. “I see,” he says, and makes sure Tachibana knows he has brought a lot of good into his life, too.

Antique Bakery is poignant, surprising, well-paced, well-written, funny, and excellent. In short, it’s required reading for manga fans. I can’t believe it took me so long!

Millennium Prime Minister 1 by Eiki Eiki: C

millennium1The premise of Millennium Prime Minister is so ridiculous it almost sounds fun. Minori Nagashima, a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl and video game aficionado, ditches school one day and ends up at an arcade, where she takes on and defeats an opponent who’s been trouncing the other patrons. Initially angry, the young man changes his tune when he sees Minori, and declares, “You can be my wife!!” Minori manages to escape his clutches, but soon learns his identity: the newly-elected Prime Minister of Japan, Kanata Okazaki. Kanata refuses to give up on the marriage idea and easily convinces Minori’s parents to give their permission, tricks Minori into appearing on a press conference announcing their engagement, and is pretty much a domineering yet playful jerk who says things like, “There’s no going back now. You have to marry me.”

Unfortunately, in its execution, the kooky story shows signs of a paradoxical unoriginality. Of course, the story begins with Minori running late for school. And of course, she runs into a duo of lecherous cretins, the ubiquitous sidewalk-dwelling foes of the shojo heroine. And of course, because of the media frenzy that ensues after the press conference, she moves in with Kanata and promptly walks in on him in the bath. The characters don’t rescue the narrative from its mediocrity, either, since Kanata is obnoxious and Minori puts up only a token resistance to his schemes. The biggest disappointment is Sai, the senior aide who provides the boys’ love element with his unrequited love for Kanata, who initially seems cool and stern but turns out to be weepy and immature.

Eiki Eiki’s art is clean and attractive, and I’m especially fond of the characters’ eyes and their expressive faces. She does seem to have a thing for elongated necks, though; check out the cover image for a particularly egregious example.

Millennium Prime Minister is complete in four volumes, but only the first is currently available in English. Volume two is due in October 2009.

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

Kare Kano 11-12 by Masami Tsuda: B-

karekano11One thing that Kare Kano does differently from a lot of shoujo manga is that it puts its side stories about the main couple’s friends in the middle of the series rather than the end. That might be a disruptive and frustrating choice if one is consuming the story rapidly—the “Dark Arima” arc has been left hanging since the end of volume nine—but for someone like me, who hasn’t read a volume of this series in a year, the two-volume tale of the romance between childlike Tsubasa and her step-brother, Kazuma, works as a nice, self-contained reintroduction to Kare Kano‘s characters and plot.

When Tsubasa’s doting father married Kazuma’s mother, each lonely only child acquired a new step-sibling. Tsubasa was very upset at first, but grew to like her step-brother a lot and open up to him in a way she had with no one else. Kazuma fights his more mature attraction for her, drawn to the sad and lonely side of her that only he gets to see, especially as he feels an increasingly strong desire to devote himself more fully to his musical career with the indie band, Yin and Yang. Feelings of doubt and insecurity about his musical worth plague him, however, and he spends a lot of time trying to figure out what he wants and should do. He eventually realizes that his love for Tsubasa is a strength rather than a weakness, as allowing himself to experience it positively impacts his songwriting abilities and makes him feel like a more legitimate part of the band.

Tsubasa has always been my least favorite character in the series. Since her introduction, she’s been portrayed as immature and violent, and often pretty dumb. These two volumes make the case that she’s actually refusing to grow up on purpose, putting up walls to deflect things she’s not ready to deal with yet. She’s certainly far more tolerable here than she ever has been before, and by the end of the story seems to have grown up a great deal. Originally viewing Kazuma as a “safe” guy by whom she can feel adored without entering into anything more complicated, her front row center presence at a Yin and Yang concert signals that she accepts both Kazuma’s dedication to music as well as his feelings for her.

karekano12While there are certainly moments between Kazuma and Tsubasa that are important, not just between them but for the story at large (I very much hope Tsubasa retains her newfound maturity), I still can’t get very excited about their relationship. Part of the problem is that they’re not actually together a lot in these two volumes: it seems like Kazuma spends much more time with his (meant to be amusing but not actually amusing at all) bandmates than he does with her. Granted, this is actually indicative of their circumstances, and Kazuma’s absence from Tsubasa’s world and her hatred of the music that keeps him from her is a big part of the story, but it seems they’re only able to connect for a few pages at a time which hampers my ability to really understand how they’d function together as a couple.

I’m also rather confused about the passage of time. From the time Kazuma’s new song prompts Yin and Yang to give a stellar performance to the concert Tsubasa attends, eight months pass. Have these eight months also passed uneventfully for Yukino and Arima, who appear throughout these volumes sporadically, functioning solely as Yin and Yang fans? Perhaps it was a convenient way for Tsuda to leave her leads in a holding pattern while whisking them that much nearer to graduation. Time will tell, I suppose.

Ultimately, these two volumes are decent, but disappointing, too. At least the focus returns to Yukino and Arima with the next volume.

Sarasah 1 by Ryu Ryang: C

sarasah1Ji-Hae Namgung has harbored an obsessive crush on her classmate, Seung-Hyu, for over a year and a half. Because her “love” hasn’t faded in all this time, she believes it’s more substantial than most and won’t give up her attempts to win Seung-Hyu’s heart, despite the fact that he has repeatedly and emphatically rejected her. As she chases after him after his latest refusal, she ends up accidentally tumbling down a staircase and awakens in the world beyond, where Lady Gameunjang, the God who controls the flow of human life, is touched by Ji-Hae’s plight. It’s not Ji-Hae’s time to die, but she can’t bear returning to a world in which Seung-Hyu hates her, so instead, Lady Gameunjang sends her into a past life, where can rectify the wrong that causes him to hate her in the present.

Once in the past, Ji-Hae doesn’t seem to consider trying to fit in at all, and instead shocks her former self’s family by lopping off her hair, speaking informally, and going off dressed as a boy to search for Seung-Hyu. When she finds his past equivalent, called Ja-Yun, she rattles off a series of lies to convince him to let her stay with his family and later accompanies him to a political meeting attended by a man who will one day be an important king in Korea’s history.

I can put up with a lot of flaws in manga. I am capable of liking something when it’s silly, when it’s implausible, or when it has little merit aside from its ability to infect you with the compulsion to know what happens next. But what I cannot abide is an unlikable protagonist, and unfortunately, that is exactly what Ji-Hae is. When she describes what she loves about Seung-Hyu, it’s a catalog of physical attributes. When she springs her latest (public) declaration of love upon him, it includes a note that reads, “You are mine. You can’t get away.” And when she gets to the afterlife, she has the audacity to wail, “What have I done to deserve this pain?” Um, been a completely deluded psycho stalker, perhaps?

Because of Ji-Hae’s abominable behavior, one might assume I’d feel sympathy for Seung-Hyu, but I’m thwarted there as well, since he’s got about as much personality as a cardboard cutout. Granted, as Ja-Yun, he seems to possess at least a small quantity of kindness—or else mere common decency requires him to house the disguised Ji-Hae after she tells her hard-luck tale of orphaned woe—but is otherwise just as stony as before.

About the only thing working for this title is the setting, which allows Ryang to draw some nice period costumes and work in some political elements while eschewing a strictly realistic portrayal of living conditions during the time in question. In general, the art’s attractive (especially the color pages in the front of the book), featuring an everygirl sort of heroine and ample bishounen eye candy.

Sarasah is also a quick read, which tempts me to give it at least one more volume to see whether anything resembling a real and honest relationship between Ji-Hae and Ja-Yun begins to develop. If Ryu Ryang takes the bildungsroman approach, that’s something I might be able to get behind.

Sarasah is published by Yen Press. Only one volume is currently available—volume two is due in November—and the series is ongoing in Korea, with six volumes so far.

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

High School Debut 11 by Kazune Kawahara: B+

hsd11From the back cover:
Haruna becomes worried when she sees Yoh hanging out with an unattractive classmate. (Yoh does seem to have strange taste in women, after all…) She has good reason for feeling uneasy—it looks like this girl really does want to sabotage their relationship!

Review:
The main reason I love High School Debut is that it skewers some of the typical shojo clichés—the reappearance of an old girlfriend, for instance—by simply having its leads communicate with each other. Volume eleven, alas, is a disappointment in that regard.

It begins when Haruna spots Yoh smiling (a pretty rare occurrence) at his cram school classmate and finds this so painful that her heart is sick. Her mood is buoyed when Yoh asks her on a date, but he fails to show when said classmate, Miyabi, appears to collapse from heat stroke. Of course Yoh is not the type of guy who’d ignore someone in that plight, but he’s left his cell phone at home and can’t call Haruna, leaving her waiting for hours. Later, when he calls to explain what happened, Haruna is torn. She wouldn’t like Yoh if he weren’t the type of guy to be kind to someone in need, but insecurity and jealousy flare up again when she imagines him caring for Miyabi so attentively, and she hangs up on him. I actually love all of this bit, because I can utterly sympathize with Haruna’s reaction, how when you love someone you want to keep him all to yourself.

The part I don’t like comes in when Miyabi begins scheming and fiddles with Yoh’s phone so it blocks Haruna’s calls, sends a break up text, and redirects the contact for Haruna to point to her own phone. AND YOH BUYS IT! He talks to her a couple times and doesn’t realize she’s not Haruna! So, on top of the frustration of our main couple not being able to exert their excellent communication skills to resolve things, has apparently become unable to discern his girlfriend’s voice from that of a relative stranger. Granted, he begins to have his doubts pretty quickly, but it’s annoying all the same. Haruna’s annoying, too, since she evidently believes that Yoh is capable of breaking up with her over a text message, which he is not. At least the resolution to this is rather sweet.

The final chapter sees everyone back at school and Haruna trying to think of something special to do for Yoh’s birthday. Someone at work suggests an overnight trip, and she innocently runs with the idea, seeing it only as an opportunity to go somewhere new. Asami finally clues her in to the implications of an overnight trip and, instead of talking to Yoh about it, Haruna reads some of her brother’s magazines about guys and their attitudes towards sex, purchases some frilly lingerie, and tries to psych herself up to do it with Yoh so he won’t stop liking her. Argh! I dunno, I guess this cluelessness and searching for answers in dodgy print sources is perfectly in character for Haruna, but it’s never bugged me like this before. Perhaps it’s because it comes on the heels of the previous chapter.

In any case, despite the irksome elements in this volume, High School Debut has so much warmth and charm that my overall impression is not diminished. In fact, I’m sad there are only two volumes left!

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Phantom Dream 3 by Natsuki Takaya: B

phantomdream3Once upon a time, a thousand years ago, there was a beautiful woman named Suigekka who used her magical abilities to help the people of Japan. The people feared and misunderstood her, however, and killed her after blaming her for the drought that had descended upon the land. A magician who loved her, Hira, went insane after Suigekka’s death and vowed revenge on humanity. He began to turn them into jaki, beings controlled by their negative feelings, while his younger brother, Saga, sought to protect people and undo their transformations. Fastforward into the present, where that inherited conflict is still going on. Tamaki Otoya, a descendant from Saga’s line, is the current shugoshi, or one tasked with exorcising jaki. Hira has reawakened, thanks to the reincarnation of Suigekka, and his quest for revenge continues. Tamaki must stop him, but personal feelings are making him hesitate.

While I originally found Phantom Dream to be confusing, it has really shaped up in the last couple of volumes, and now seems to’ve achieved a good balance between plot progression and character development. Events still tend to happen quickly, but motivations are clearer and moments of sacrifice carry more weight. Protagonist Tamaki has become a more sympathetic character, and I also quite like the story of Eiji, once his opposite number among Hira’s ranks, who defects to Tamaki’s side after learning Hira’s real reasons for creating jaki.

Also assisting to clear up the confusion is the desperately-needed glossary that makes its first appearance in this volume. Unfortunately, the “Story So Far” section includes a big spoiler that, while strongly inferred in volume two, is not confirmed until the early chapters of this volume. One might wish to steer clear.

All in all, Phantom Dream is not bad and is, in my estimation, superior to Takaya’s later work, Tsubasa: Those With Wings.

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

Phantom Dream 2 by Natsuki Takaya: B-

phantomdream2From the back cover:
Tamaki Otoya is the last in a line of ancient summoners tasked to battle evil forces that threaten mankind. But when the rival Gekka family return to collect the demon sword Tamaki’s family stole centuries ago, a devastating secret is revealed! Tamaki is left in such a state of shock that he doesn’t even notice his beloved Asahi slipping away to the Gekka mansion…

Review:
I was pretty underwhelmed by the first volume in this series, finding it to be confusing and more interesting as a measure of Natsuki Takaya’s progression as a storyteller than for its own merits. Volume two is a big improvement, however; though the confusing elements persist, a potentially compelling story is beginning to take shape.

In this volume, more details about the feud between the members of the Gekka family, who use negative emotions to turn people into jaki, and the Otoya family, who are tasked with exorcising those people, are revealed. The current representatives of the families, Eiji and Tamaki, seem to bond a little over their shared burdens, but also engage in combat, as well. Some members of a branch family come to support Tamaki, leading to revelations about the reasons why more of the family is not rallying behind him. Asahi seems to feel a strange connection with a sword belonging to the Gekka family, which the Otoya family has sacrificed much to protect, but Eiji ends up in possession of the weapon after his cat demon minion manages to infiltrate the shields on the Otoya temple in an unexpected way.

That summary is distilled from a couple hundred pages of random and rapid plot developments, which brings up the biggest problem I have with Phantom Dream: major events happen too quickly, giving the progression of the story a rather slapdash feel. It’s possible that Takaya-sensei has meticulously planned out each new development, but they rush by without giving the reader enough time to appreciate what has happened. In the first volume, for example, I completely missed that a butterfly-loving boy whom Tamaki exorcised had volunteered to become a kind of reconnaissance spirit in Tamaki’s employ. This time, we’re barely given time to digest some news about Tamaki’s parentage before the sword is stolen, Tamaki’s mother dies, and Asahi goes missing, apparently on the verge of betraying Tamaki and awakening the Gekka king from his slumber.

Through the blur of these events, however, one is occasionally afforded a glimpse of what the story could’ve been if more time were devoted to allowing the main characters some reaction time. Tamaki and Eiji don’t seem to really hate each other; instead, they are bound by destiny and familial expectations to continue a pointless feud that’s been going on for a thousand years. Eiji, at times, doesn’t seem to want to do what he’s doing—and even seems to cherish some feelings of love for Tamaki—but does them nonetheless, causing Tamaki to have to fight him. I wish this element of the story had been played up a lot more, rather than the emphasis being on the secrets of Tamaki’s parentage.

Still, even with all of these problems, I find that I do like Phantom Dream, and substantially more than I like Tsubasa: Those With Wings. For all its speed, it’s still by far the more focused work, with a driving narrative that isn’t sidetracked by forays into “comedy.” It’s also more clearly the precursor to Fruits Basket, with a heroine whose sunny outlook proves of invaluable aid to the hero and even manages to get through to the ostensible villain of the piece.

Dining Bar Akira by Tomoko Yamashita: A

diningbar12532-year-old Akira Koji doesn’t know how to handle it when Torihara Yasuyuki, a coworker six years his junior, says, “You know… I have feelings for you.” He has always considered himself to be straight and ultimately decides not to take the confession seriously. Still, he can’t help being a bit curious. As he and Torihara continue to interact at work, bickering a good bit yet dancing closer to each other, he becomes more and more intrigued. Eventually, the two begin dating but insecurities rear their heads when it’s time to think about taking their relationship to the next level.

The basic plot of Dining Bar Akira isn’t anything new, but what Tomoko Yamashita does with the characters is fascinating. Both Akira and Torihara are grown, experienced men and have learned over the years to erect defenses in order to keep from being hurt. Even after they begin dating, they must work to earn each other’s trust. Akira, for example, swears that he does have feelings for Torihara, but the idea of being physically intimate frightens him, like if he makes such a life change at age 32, there’ll be no turning back. Torihara, meanwhile, has a habitually negative outlook that makes it hard for him to believe Akira’s not merely with him out of sympathy; he needs tangible proof. To avoid responsibility, Akira unconsciously attempts to rile Torihara enough that he’ll take the decision out of his hands, but both know it would mean nothing unless it’s a step he chooses to take himself.

I love it when the obstacles a couple faces come from within and Dining Bar Akira pulls this off admirably. Like the best boys’ love manga, it focuses on the universality of its characters’ situation—the struggle of two people who like each other to achieve true intimacy. That they both happen to be sexy, professional men is completely beside the point. In this way, it reminds me of Future Lovers. (Other similarities include its sense of humor and the way the more cynical member of the pair has trouble shaking the worry that he’s robbed his optimistic partner of the security that comes with traditional married life.)

If Dining Bar Akira has a flaw, it’s that it seems to end too abruptly, but I’m not convinced that this truly is cause for complaint. In the final chapter, Torihara and Akira have developed a daily routine, but the days are slipping by so peacefully that Torihara worries the relationship will one day just naturally dissolve. There’s no real resolution to that situation, which is a little frustrating from a reader’s point of view—I, at least, tend to appreciate neat and tidy endings—but isn’t that more realistic? After such a complicated depiction of two people wrestling with feelings of fear and love, wouldn’t it cheapen the story to cap it off with a trite happy ever after? A similar tactic is employed with “Foggy Scene,” one of a pair of short bonus stories that round out the volume.

Yamashita’s art reminds me of est em, and those familiar with the latter’s work will recognize that for the compliment it is. There’s an elegant, expressive feel to her drawings that spills over into the story itself; Dining Bar Akira is positively bereft of any artistic clichés one might expect to encounter in boys’ love manga. Both leads look like adult men, and supporting characters (in the form of fellow coworkers) tend to be the same, with some approaching middle age.

I was unfamiliar with Tomoko Yamashita’s manga before this, and I’m sure many would say the same. With work of this quality, though, I hope that won’t remain the case for too much longer.

Dining Bar Akira is currently available only at NETCOMICS.com, but a print edition will be available soon. Another Tomoko Yamashita title, Black-Winged Love, is due later this year. I’ll definitely be checking it out.

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

Goong: The Royal Palace 6 by Park SoHee: A-

goong6From the back cover:
Hoping to clear the air between Shin and Chae-Kyung, the ladies of the court pressure the young couple to get more intimate. But even a night together may not be enough to push the two close. Amid lingering suspicious of Shin’s involvement with Hyo-Rin, Yul takes the offensive in claiming not only his right to the throne, but to Chae-Kyung’s heart as well… Will her commitment to her husband and her duty as crown princess prevail?

Review:
In this volume, Shin and Chae-Kyung are forced to spend a night alone together by order of the queen mother, who buys into the theory that Chae-Kyung’s recent poor health is caused by problems in her relationship with Shin, and that by forcing them to consummate their marriage, those problems will immediately evaporate. Alas, things do not go as planned. Later developments include Yul admitting his feelings to Chae-Kyung, an attempt to gain more political power for the royal family, a subplot involving the girl Shin used to like, and the news that Chae-Kyung’s grandfather has cancer.

It’s really impossible to convey the awesomeness of Goong through a mere plot summary, because so much of the story is carried by the characters rather than the events. The night Shin and Chae-Kyung spend together is a fascinating example. When they’re first locked up together, Shin asks, “Are you scared? Do you think I’ll attack you?” Chae-Kyung, however, is more worried that she might attack him! Shin abruptly kills any mood that might’ve been brewing, though, when he says, “A man can sleep with a girl whom he doesn’t really like.” Readers can see that he’s developing feelings for her and just trying to protect himself by feigning detachment, but Chae-Kyung can’t. When he’s later moved by her eyes, which speak so honestly of her feelings for him, and tries to kiss her, she slaps him. Shin, of course, has no idea what he did wrong.

What a complicated and complex relationship! This is the sort of situation that two people, no matter how attracted they are to each other, would probably just give up on after failing time and again to truly connect. Shin and Chae-Kyung don’t have this option, however, and continue the pattern of hurting each other. Their struggle is both captivating and frustrating; it’s going to be so vastly rewarding once they finally work things out.

Shin’s insecurities and ignorance of a loving family come into play in the latter half of the volume, when he refuses to allow Chae-Kyung to visit her ailing grandfather. The excuse he gives is that she has duties to attend to, but he’s really worried that she’ll want to stay with her family rather than return to the miseries of palace life. Yul uses this situation to try to get on Chae-Kyung’s good side—suggesting that she get her marriage with Shin annulled and marry him instead since Shin’s dysfunctional upbringing makes him treat her badly—but only succeeds in strengthening her sympathies for Shin. The final scene suggests that Yul’s meddling might backfire on him even further, to which I say, in Nelson’s voice from The Simpsons, “Ha ha!”

An awful lot goes on in a single volume of Goong and all of it is wonderfully balanced and exciting to read. About the only flaw I could mention is that the unattractive artwork during comedic moments still persists. Because of this, I’ve never been able to award any volume a straight-out A, much as I have wanted to, because the random bits of ugly pull me out of the story. They don’t appear to be going anywhere, alas, so it looks like I’ll just have to resign myself to their presence.

Review copy provided by the publisher.