Manga and Book Reviews by Michelle Smith
I reviewed this strange, cute, and sad manga for Comics Should Be Good. It’s the story of a fluffy little alien who comes to earth to find a bride. It’s very weird, but the absurdity is of a sort that appeals to me.
You can find that review here.
Little Fluffy Gigolo PELU is published in English by Last Gasp and the first volume is available now. It looks like the series is complete in Japan with a total of three volumes.
Review copy provided by the publisher.
After 36 dramatastic volumes, Boys Over Flowers has finally come to an end. It’s just too bad it didn’t happen sooner. The end of volume 31 would’ve been a good place, for example, with Tsukushi and Tsukasa finally realizing that their love is what’s most important in their lives. Instead, after Tsukasa recovers from a rather lame bout of amnesia, he announces that, due to his father’s sudden illness, he is taking off for New York after graduation and won’t be back for four years.
Although some very nice moments between the main couple result, like a night spent alone together and some endearingly misspelled skywriting, on the whole this volume is a disappointment on that front. With Tsukasa’s departure looming and Tsukushi forced to deal with her wacky family, they spend too much of this final volume apart for it to truly feel satisfying. Also, while I don’t really mind checking in on some of the secondary characters introduced throughout the series, I begrudge them the pages that could’ve been spent on the protagonists.
On the positive side, the volume provides some unexpectedly touching moments with Tsukushi and the rest of the F4, who are graduating, too. Instead of taking dates to the prom, they’ve decided that the last girl they want to dance with in high school is Tsukushi and we get a little farewell moment with each of them. Also, a bonus story about Akira, the least developed member of the F4, proves to be surprisingly entertaining.
Boys Over Flowers might end with a whimper rather than a bang, but don’t take that to mean that it isn’t ultimately well worth reading.
Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.
These seven volumes leading up to the conclusion of Boys Over Flowers, which now has the distinction of being the longest shoujo series I’ve read, feature some pretty drastic reversals of fortune. Through spontaneous trips to New York City, love confessions from unexpected sources, kidnappings, deserted islands, stabbings, and amnesia, Tsukushi and Tsukasa endure a whirlwind of on again, off again romance that can leave the reader rather dizzy.
Because it’s better simply to go with the shoujo flow than try to reconstruct a linear account of what happens, I’m going to forgo any attempt at a comprehensive summary and instead write a little bit about each volume individually.
Volume 29: B
Tsukasa is convinced that he can make his mother understand his feelings for Tsukushi. The two of them have a very sweet date, one of their first that’s uniformly happy, with visits to pet stores and attendance at a baseball game. Alas, this game is the scene for a record-breaking home run for an American player, and Tsukushi’s catch of the ball ends up televised in New York, where Tsukasa’s mother happens to see it. She yanks Tsukasa back to New York, and Tsukushi pluckily follows.
After a couple of dumb chapters wherein Tsukushi just happens to run into someone she knows, things pick up again when she finally gets to see Tsukuasa. He coldly tells Tsukushi to go home and that he’s staying in New York of his own volition. She is stunned, but then sweet Rui arrives to lend her his support.
Volume 30: B+
Rui reveals that he is in love with Tsukushi. Although they don’t really work as a couple—the one date they had in the past was pretty awkward—I still see why they’d be drawn together. There’s a certain aura that Rui exudes, a strong, wistful kind of pull, that produces romantic angst of such a wonderful quality that it quite literally makes my heart ache a little. Even better is that this time, Tsukushi’s feelings for Tsukasa don’t waver in the slightest.
On the annoying side of things, Tsukushi just accepts Tsukasa’s cold dismissal and is on the verge of returning to Japan, when Kaede turns up at the airport and gives her one wish (in return for helping save a business deal). Tsukushi wishes for Tsukasa to keep his promise to have a hot pot dinner with her. A few days later, Tsukasa returns to Japan to spend just one day with Tsukushi, and it’s wonderfully sad and they’re about to have a tearful goodbye when suddenly some thugs with tasers arrive and kidnap them.
Volume 31: B
Tsukushi and Tsukasa awake to find themselves on a ship set on auto-pilot. When they arrive at a deserted island, Tsukasa proves himself surprisingly reliable by catching some dinner and, as they explore their surroundings, he reveals why he sent her away in New York and Tsukushi finds the courage to declare that she never wants to be separated from him again. Predictably, it turns out that their friends were behind the kidnapping, but neither Tsukushi nor Tsukasa is mad, since Tsukushi feels the experience has taught her what’s really important to her and Tsukasa decides that he’s going to leave his family.
Alas, Tsukasa’s sudden disappearance has hit the news. There’s a media frenzy upon his return and, in the commotion, he ends up getting stabbed by a guy with a grudge against his family. “Why is it,” Tsukushi wonders, “that every time I’m about to grasp that hand it just slips through my fingers?”
Volume 32: B-
Tsukasa nearly dies from his injuries, but miraculously recovers, though he has amnesia as a result and can’t remember Tsukushi. This ailment is untimely since, in grudging gratitude for Tsukushi’s life-saving actions after Tsukasa’s attack, Kaede says she’ll consider her son dead for one year. Throughout the rest of the volume, Tsukasa continues to be unable to remember Tsukushi while a very annoying, supposedly innocent girl at the hospital begins spending a lot of time with him.
A new romantic rival this late in the game is irritating. It’s strange—previous volumes prove I can accept and be entertained by all kinds of ridiculous drama, but this arc is just incredibly frustrating. I do like that we get a glimpse of a softer side of Kaede, though, and hope that it’ll be followed up on in the future.
Volume 33: B-
The amnesia plot persists and Umi continues to hang around Tsukasa, prompting him to wonder if perhaps she is the person he’s forgotten and taking credit for making a bento lunch that he found nostalgic somehow. Kamio-sensei attempts to portray Umi as naive and oblivious rather than calculating, but it doesn’t really work for me and I still hate her unreservedly. Thankfully, Tsukasa begins to realize that being with her simply doesn’t feel right and eventually scares her away with his temper, still awful when not modulated by Tsukushi’s influence.
Tsukushi, meanwhile, has become convinced that the Tsukasa she loves no longer exists and decides to see him one last time to return the mementos of their relationship. The encounter angers her enough to bean him in the head with the baseball she caught on their date and viola, his memories return. I’m more relieved than anything else, though there are certainly some nice moments after their reunion. The volume ends with them heading out to enjoy the freedom granted by their one-year grace period, promising to think about what to do after that when the time comes.
Volume 34: B+
Now that Tsukushi and Tsukasa are back on the right path—though Tsukushi can’t quite believe that it’s not going to all fall apart again, given their track record—focus shifts back to the subplot involving Yuki and her feelings for Sojiro. After helping him to attain a bit of closure regarding the one girl he ever really loved, she’s been keeping her distance. When they reconnect at a dinner to celebrate Tsukasa’s recovery, he offers to do something for her to repay her actions, and she asks him to instruct at her school’s Tea Club, unaware that the Sara in the club is the very girl that Sojiro once loved.
Angst ensues, but it’s enjoyable. Yuki is a strong and likable character (whose increasingly mature outlook has been an inspiration for our heroine), Sojiro has some unexpected layers, and it’s nice to give the main couple a break sometimes and let others bear the brunt of the drama burden for a while.
Volume 35: B
The Yuki/Sojiro storyline plays out to its conclusion and it’s awesome. Less awesome, alas, are the developments with our main couple. They couldn’t possibly be allowed to enjoy the year of freedom they’ve been granted! Instead, Tsukasa’s father collapses and he decides to go off to New York after graduation and take the reins of the company, leaving he and Tsukushi only a few more days together.
Firstly, this is entirely out of the blue and runs contrary to what Tsukasa was just saying a few volumes ago, about how he’s going to leave the family and all that. Secondly, as his departure approaches, the story turns into a tour of memories, with random reappearances by side characters that I don’t really care about.
All in all, of these volumes, I loved the scenes between Tsukushi and Rui the most, followed by the resolution to the Yuki and Sojiro story. There are some really great moments with the main couple in there, but the amnesia plot and this latest announcement of Tsukasa’s kind of bum me out in that department. Instead of being excited at the prospect of what the final volume will bring, I’m now kind of wary.
I 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.
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.
Misao Harada has always been able to see spirits, but when she turns sixteen, things suddenly get a lot worse. Kyo Usui, her childhood friend and first love, returns after a ten-year absence just in time to inform her that she is “the bride of prophecy,” and that now that she is sixteen, all sorts of demons are going to want to drink her blood, eat her flesh, and/or marry (read: sleep with) her, all of which will confer some benefit to the demon, be it eternal youth or prosperity for his/her clan. Kyo is a demon himself—a tengu, as it turns out—and appoints himself Misao’s protector, fending off other demons while pressuring her to become his bride.
There are several very good reasons why I shouldn’t like Black Bird. In the first place, it’s another supernatural romance where the somewhat ditzy heroine is possessed of delicious-smelling blood that inspires the hottest guys around to fight over her. In the second, Misao’s childhood memories of Kyo have left her waiting for some guy to show up and protect her from the spirits who’re harrassing her. And thirdly, when Kyo does arrive to perform that function, he does things like fly up into the air with Misao (who is scared of heights) in his arms in order to encourage her to cling to him, saying, “You can’t live without me. I have to teach your body that.” Creepy! That’s just a step away from, “Why are you making me hurt you?” in my book.
And yet, I did like Black Bird, at least more than I’d expected to. Misao, though she’s weak in some ways, is adamant about not becoming Kyo’s bride—even though she’s attracted to him—because she believes he’s only interested in the prosperity that sleeping with her would grant his clan. These doubts also come into play for some fine drama later on when a tricky kitsune (fox demon) arrives and points out that it’s likely not a coincidence that Kyo was Misao were childhood friends, that Kyo must’ve been establishing that early relationship in order to foster a preference for him in Misao’s mind down the road. The notion that her precious memories might all be a sham leads Misao to push Kyo away, though of course he persists in protecting her anyway. It’s angsty, but good.
Sakurakoji’s artwork is attractive, and even though Misao and the rest of the cast boast rather humdrum character designs, Kyo really stands out, making it easy to see why Misao would be so captivated by him. Also, while I’m genuinely not one for smutty scenes, the ones in Black Bird rely more on suggestion than explicit detail, making them all the more sexy.
In the end, Black Bird really is nothing more than your standard wish-fulfillment fantasy. And I think I’m okay with that.
Black Bird is published in English by VIZ. The series is still ongoing in Japan, where eight volumes have been released so far.
Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.
The Crimson High girls’ volleyball team has made it to the third round of the Newcomers’ Tournament and is facing its first serious challenge. Things are going well and they win the first set, but when the opposing team intentionally wounds Crimson High’s star setter, there’s no one who can fill in. Instead, the Crimson High girls rearrange their strategy to protect their injured teammate and refuse to give up. Their spirit of camaraderie and teamwork inspires their rivals, who are, of course, actually sympathetic girls being led astray by an unaccountably obnoxious coach.
Okay, yes, I completely admit that Crimson Hero can be sappy at times. This whole volume seems calculated to make one verklempt, be it the way that the most inexperienced member of the team demonstrates her growth by scoring the winning point or how the girls from the other team come to regret the way they’ve abandoned their friendships in pursuit of the number one spot on the team. Transparent manipulation like this would usually annoy me, but it just works so well in a sports manga that I can forgive it.
There’s also a little progress on the romantic front. It seems that one of the boys who likes Nobara might still have feelings for his ex-girlfriend, but it’s really nothing to get excited about. I’m just here for the volleyball.
Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.
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.
Morim Kang’s warm, family-oriented manhwa comes to a close in its seventh volume, bringing the tales of thirty-something Krumb, twenty-something Belle, and teenager Rok to a satisfying close. Each woman has faced personal and romantic challenges throughout the course of the series, and the ending resolves nearly all of these plot lines well while still retaining the sense that life will go on for these vibrant characters.
My one complaint about the conclusion involves the resolution of a subplot concerning an art teacher of Rok’s who became obsessed with her and who, it was suggested, suffered from mental illness. One of Rok’s friends does a bit of investigating but the solid truth behind his mysterious behavior is never known; I suppose that’s true to life—we sometimes never know the motivations of those who puzzle us—but it’s frustrating from a reader’s standpoint.
I’m not sure what the Korean equivalent of josei is, but whatever it is, I bet 10, 20, and 30 qualifies. Although there are some teens among the cast, two-thirds of the focus is on Krumb and Belle and their forays into the workplace and the dating scene. Though its tone is quite different from Mari Okazaki’s lamentably languishing Suppli, I’d recommend it as a possible consolation read for fans of that series. If nothing else, it’ll make you feel like hugging your mom.
Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.
10, 20, and 30 is a charming manhwa about three women, each in a different decade of life. Krumb is a widowed mother in her thirties; Rok, in her late teens, is Krumb’s daughter; and Belle, in her twenties, is Krumb’s niece and Rok’s cousin. As volume three begins, they’ve recently moved out of the spacious house that Krumb’s husband built and into an affordable-to-maintain apartment. Krumb has recently recovered from an illness, leading Rok to want to take on more of the caretaker role in the family. Meanwhile, Belle is spending most of her time doing nothing but loafing around and dreaming of possible careers without actually taking any steps toward making them happen.
Time is equally divided between the characters, and they all have their own plots involving personal growth. Krumb returns to work and must contend with a more demanding position, Rok is somewhat resentful of her mother’s fragility and 
strives to be more independent, and Belle is still trying to figure out what she wants to do with herself. Each also has a man in her life with some mystery attached: Krumb’s boss proposed to her then disappeared on a trip to Hong Kong, Belle is being wooed by a financial consultant with a scheming (and shrewish) girlfriend, and Rok has unwittingly become an object of obsession for a teacher at the art institute where she has enrolled in a class.
Because there are so many plots going on at once, the story tends to cut between them quickly and frequently, which can take a bit of getting used to. They also frequently intertwine, often in ways that show the characters in their best light. For example, Belle, who is often selfish and annoying and who might be fairly intolerable if the protagonist of the piece, shows what a good person she can be as she protects Rok from her creepy stalker or fights to wrest Krumb’s investments out of the grasp of the corrupt financier (once she figures out his game). In general, all of the characters look after each other and a feeling of warmth presides.
My one complaint with how the plots are handled is that the most dramatic moments themselves are never shown. In volume five, Krumb learns that her boss is alive but handicapped and goes to meet him. The meeting itself is not shown, and it’s not until a few chapters later, when she’s talking about it with her sister, that we actually glimpse anything of what went on with them. A similar thing happens in volume six: Belle answers the phone, says, “Mom? What’s wrong?”, and the next thing you know everyone’s talking about how her stepfather died and his will has been altered, et cetera. It’s a little frustrating, but I also love that the story focuses on what happens after the big drama has passed, as everyone tries to figure out what to do next to move on from the experience.
Art-wise, 10, 20, and 30 is not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. The style is simple, more like something you’d expect from a comic strip than a manhwa, but it does have moments when it’s quite attractive. Panel layout is strictly in the rectangle family, though at least it’s not the same rigid grid applied page after page. I do like how many chapters end on successive panels of each woman in a similar wistful 
moment, like gazing out at the first snowfall of the year or enjoying a Christmas celebration in each other’s company.
As volume six concludes, the story is beginning to wrap up. Gradually, the women are beginning to grow. Krumb is starting to stand up more for what she wants, Belle has grown up a lot and finally seems to be taking some responsibility for her life, and Rok has noticed her mother’s renewed strength and become more accepting of her. There are a few things left to make the ending a truly satisfying one, though, so I’m eager to see what the seventh and final volume brings.
Review copies provided by the publisher.
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