Dokebi Bride 1-6 by Marley: B

dokebi1Dokebi Bride is very difficult to describe because it’s a little bit like a lot of things, but isn’t fully any one of them. On the surface, it’s the tale of a girl named Sunbi Shin who can see spirits, and those are a dime a dozen, though few incorporate myth and folklore so creatively. In later volumes, it morphs into the story of a supernaturally gifted protagonist who travels and somehow helps to ease the problems of others; I’ve never read Mushishi, but wouldn’t be surprised to learn the vibe is similar. At its core, though, it’s the story of a girl who has been deserted by those she loved and is angry about that and who tries to act as if nothing really affects her.

As we learn in the first volume, Sunbi has been raised in a rural village by her grandmother after the death of her mother. She and her grandmother, the village shaman, are close and Sunbi learns all sorts of things about dragon spirits and feeding sea dokebis. Unfortunately, she’s ostracized in school for her strangeness and learns to hide her ability to see spirits. Upon her grandmother’s death, Sunbi moves to Seoul to live with her father and his new family where she could not possibly feel more unwanted.

dokebi2Sunbi has bigger problems than her new living arrangements, however, as she seems to have no defense against the spirits that she encounters every day. An untimely encounter with a spirit at school only serves to ensure that her ostracism continues and the only friend she makes is Taehoon, a boy who’s interested in some weird energy fields around Sunbi that he’s picked up on a special camera. After a particularly traumatic spiritual visitation results in a devastating loss, Sunbi finally decides to take some action. After consulting with a professor of folklore, she performs the ritual to summon dokebis and ends up forming a contract with the strongest one of the lot, whom she names Gwangsoo. The generally comedic Gwangsoo considers Sunbi his bride, and has a vision of her as some kind of warrior, though she doesn’t seem to be aware of these facts just yet.

dokebi3With Gwangsoo at her beck and call, Sunbi has more confidence and random spirits leave her alone. She also starts helping people, beginning with the spiritual problem keeping Taehoon’s mother’s restaurant from prospering and, after leaving her father’s house when another shaman comes to claim her grandmother’s artifacts, extending to runaways with violent tendencies and a woman who blames her disabled mother for all of her life’s difficulties. Meanwhile, a mysterious guy shows up and moves in with Sunbi’s family in Seoul and something strange is going on with her right arm.

As a character, Sunbi is the personification of prickly, as if she’s refusing to let anyone in after the pain of losing her loved ones. She refuses to lean on others, even though her stepmother does try (through regrettably manipulative ways) dokebi4 to get her to confide in someone, and is disinterested in her surroundings. After losing the shamanic artifacts, the last mementos of her grandmother, she runs away but not before the spirits attending the shaman tell her that all of the pain and suffering she’s enduring is serving to make her better able to understand those who have lost and been hurt.

As Sunbi heads out on the road, this new compassion doesn’t manifest right away, but by the end of volume six she seems to be a little bit more kindly disposed to those around her, though noticeably more towards creatures than other humans. It’s when she’s with Gwangsoo, for example, that she seems the most relaxed: she can’t trust people, but she trusts him. The art reflects this too, actually, with the creatures beautifully drawn (particularly the dragon in volume one) but humans far less so.

dokebi5While Dokebi Bride is always interesting, occasionally fascinating, and sometimes very moving—and ought to be read if only for Gwangsoo and his brethren, who would be right at home in the movie Labyrinth—it does have some problems. My main issue with it is that all six volumes feel like exposition to a bigger story that hasn’t yet begun. A lot of plot threads have been advanced—Sunbi as warrior, the itchy patch on her arm, hints at a significant role that she’ll play—but they don’t seem to go anywhere. For the first four volumes I felt pretty secure that Marley was going to get to the point someday, but after the fifth volume and its wholly unpleasant detour into the life of a girlfriend-abusing former runaway I am not so sure. It seems to be back on track with the sixth volume, but many unexplained elements remain.

dokebi6Also, while I am usually delighted when a series doesn’t insult a reader’s intelligence and allows them to figure things out for themselves, I find that I actually want a bit more spoonfeeding from this series. A large portion of my synopsis, for example, is what I suppose happened based on observing the events rather than what I know happened based on a character remarking upon it in any way. The story doesn’t come right out and say, for example, why Sunbi is no longer plagued by spirits. It’s an extrapolation that I’ve made and can only hope is correct.

Dokebi Bride is definitely unique, and I feel safe in recommending it for that fact alone, but be forewarned that it might not be the most satisfying reading experience you’ve ever had. Maybe it’ll turn into something amazing down the line, if it’s ever continued, but so far it hasn’t quite managed it.

RIN-NE 1 by Rumiko Takahashi: B+

rin-ne1From the back cover:
As a child, Sakura Mamiya mysteriously disappeared in the woods behind her grandma’s home. She returned whole and healthy, but since then she has had the power to see ghosts. Now a teenager, she just wishes the ghosts would leave her alone! At school, the desk next to Sakura’s has been empty since the start of the school year. Then one day her always-absent classmate Rinne Rokudo shows up, and he’s far more than what he seems!

Sakura’s curiosity about the mysterious Rinne draws her deeper into an amazing world on the boundary between the living and the dead. Helping Rinne is one thing, but will tagging along with him leave her trapped in the afterlife? And does Rinne really know what he’s doing? Dealing with the afterlife isn’t easy, especially when you don’t know all the rules!

Review:
When Sakura Mamiya was a little girl, she was lured into the afterlife by a corrupt shinigami. A kind lady rescued her and sent her home, but ever since then Sakura has been able to see ghosts. Having lately begun her first year in high school, Sakura had hoped that by this point in her life things would’ve changed, but she continues to see spirits. Still, her wish is granted in a way when she is the sole witness to her mysterious classmate, Rinne, banishing a chihuahua spirit in the middle of class. She’s the first person who’s ever been able to see him performing his spiritual duties, and he’s the first person who’s ever been able to see the things she can, including a persistent male ghost who’s starting to get a little too attached to her. After dealing with beings both amorphous and amorous, Rinne and Sakura work together on a couple of other cases, with Sakura sending “business” Rinne’s way when her friends have supernatural problems.

There could never be any doubt that RIN-NE is a Rumiko Takahashi manga. If her distinctive art weren’t enough of a clue—and it really looks gorgeous here—there’s her gift for creating characters; the building of camaraderie via episodic adventure; the gentle, never zany humor; and an amazing sense of pacing and paneling to bring the point home. Weekly chapters of RIN-NE are published online by VIZ and I’ve actually already read the eight chapters collected in this volume, but somehow I enjoyed them so much better in this print edition. The story flows well and I firmly believe Takahashi’s art simply looks better on paper.

The series is off to an intriguing start, but it’s too soon to tell whether a long arc will materialize or if the episodic adventures will continue indefinitely. I like the characters and setup enough to enjoy several volumes in that vein, but I might grow tired of it eventually. Also, the characters in RIN-NE will likely feel rather familiar to InuYasha fans. You have the schoolgirl heroine with special sensitivity; the half-human, half-supernatural boy she encounters and who says “feh” at least once; and the pint-sized, animalesque character with the ability to create illusions. The specifics are different, of course, and I can understand why Takahashi would stick with a formula that has proven successful, but if a tough chick and a lecherous guy join the group I am going to have to cry foul.

Ultimately, volume one of RIN-NE is entertaining and fun in that special Takahashi way. If you’re already a fan of hers, you’ll probably like this series, too.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson: B-

hillhouseFrom the back cover:
Four seekers have come to the ugly, abandoned old mansion: Dr. Montague, an occult scholar looking for solid evidence of the psychic phenomenon called haunting; Theodora, his lovely and lighthearted assistant; Eleanor, the lonely, homeless girl well acquainted with poltergeists; and Luke, the adventurous future heir of Hill House.

At first, their stay seems destined to be merely a spooky encounter with inexplicable noises and self-closing doors, but Hill House is gathering its powers and will soon choose one of them to make its own.

Review:
The Haunting of Hill House is considered a classic of the horror genre, but honestly, I found it to be a mite snoozeworthy. I think the main problem is me. I’m a desensitized reader in the 21st century, far more difficult to shock and frighten, I assume, than the typical reader in 1959, when the book was published.

It’s the story of four people who gather to spend a summer at the supposedly haunted Hill House and report on paranormal activity there. Eleanor, a lonely woman who’s spent a sheltered decade caring for her ailing mother, quickly emerges as the protagonist, and early on displays a tendency for fanciful ramblings, as each time she passes a picturesque spot on her drive to Hill House, she concocts a story about how she has lived there and lovingly cared for the stone lions flanking the drive, et cetera.

Upon arrival, she quickly makes friends with the other female in the group, Theo. They bond during various terrifying (to them) supernatural disturbances, but the friendship is tested when the house begins to exert its power over Eleanor. It’s subtle at first, but by the end Eleanor is quite taken over by the place and the ending, though rather predictable, is great.

Besides my not finding any of the events truly creepy, Eleanor herself is the primary reason I didn’t enjoy the book more. Even before she begins to be affected by the house, she’s annoying, with a non-stop inner dialogue of self-doubt and worry about what others thought of her that really got on my nerves. Worse than Eleanor is Dr. Montague’s wife, whom I absolutely hated. Thankfully, she’s only present at the very end; I wonder why her odious presence was deemed necessary at all.

In the end, there are elements of the story that I liked and ones that I didn’t. But that’s okay; it’s never a waste of time to read a classic!

Ghost Hunt 10 by Fuyumi Ono and Shiho Inada: B

ghosthunt10Osashiburi, Ghost Hunt! When last we left off, Naru, the head of Shibuya Psychic Research, was hospitalized after revealing a glimpse of his mysterious and dangerous powers. As volume ten begins, Naru has checked himself out of the hospital and seems to be back to normal, but on the way home he begins acting strangely, setting up camp in a rural village and ordering divers to dredge the nearby lake. Gradually, some information about Naru’s past comes to light and he reveals that the whole reason he created SPR in the first place was to find this spot. While awaiting the divers’ results, the team is commissioned by the town’s mayor to check out rumors of spirits haunting an abandoned elementary school. It turns out the job is a lot more dangerous than they were led to believe and the volume ends on a gigantic cliffhanger with the team trapped and the fates of two characters uncertain.

What Ghost Hunt does best, when it’s at the top of its game, is evoke an atmosphere of delicious creepiness. After a bit of a sputtering start, this volume settles into a nicely spooky groove. The nature of Naru’s search is marvelously macabre, and the scenes in which the team explores the rickety remains of the school are full of tense moments and grisly discoveries. On top of this, Mai has begun to realize that she doesn’t know enough about her colleagues to be able to call them friends, and so takes some welcome steps towards remedying that. Unfortunately, what Ghost Hunt does worst—achieving and maintaining consistency in character designs—is still a problem, but one to which I’ve simply become resigned.

Who knows when we’ll see volume eleven here—it just came out in Japan a little over a month ago—but the quality of volume ten assures me it’ll be well worth the wait.

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

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.

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.

Black Bird 1 by Kanoko Sakurakoji: B-

blackbird1Misao 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.

A Strange and Mystifying Story 2 by Tsuta Suzuki: C+

strangemystifying2Akio’s family is cursed with illness, but they also have a protective guardian beast who will appear if summoned and grant a wish. Akio summons the beast—an amorous, wolfish sort whom he names Setsu—and wishes to be cured. After Setsu accomplishes this with his own brand of sexual healing, Akio finds he doesn’t want Setsu to disappear, so wishes for him to stick around. Now Akio is feeling a bit insecure, since he isn’t sure how Setsu feels about that request. Apparently, he can’t just come out and ask.

In this volume, we learn more about Setsu’s past. Once upon a time, he was a human named Shinra who encountered a magical creature called Bansho and merged with him (this is a bit of a pun, since shinrabanshou is a Japanese idiom meaning “all things in nature”). Initially, he had some control over Bansho, but relinquished this to save one of Akio’s ancestors, of whom he was very fond. Setsu is far more likable in these chapters than he ever is in the main story, where he can be very crude. The juxtaposition of his interesting backstory with a flashback chapter of some icky* more-or-less nonconsensual sex is particularly jarring.

Akio’s reluctance to simply ask Setsu questions is frustrating, as well, and one wonders on what basis he can possibly claim to love a creature he hardly knows. Still, I can’t help kind of liking this series, since it at least tries to have a plot and features an art style that doesn’t look like every other BL title in existence.

* Believe me, you’re glad I spared you the details.

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

Bleach 28 by Tite Kubo: B

bleach28From the back cover:
Ichigo, Chad and Uryu are determined to rescue Orihime from Aizen’s vile machinations. But though the Arrancars’ fortress is in sight, the would-be heroes must first pass Tres Cifras—the land of the disgraced Arrancars, who see destroying Ichigo and his friends as a way to redeem their honor!

Review:
There were times as I read this volume that I stopped and thought, “You know, this is completely ridiculous.” Like when Aizen, after making sure that his Espadas (the highest-ranked of the Arrancar) have had their tea, announces that Hueco Mundo has been invaded by Ichigo and friends. He basically tells them it’s no big deal, and to go back to their palaces and wait for the enemy to come to them. If they’d fight en masse, they could wipe the floor with Ichigo-tachi in, like, 2 minutes, so this is obviously advised only so that we can have a nice long arc in which the Espadas are defeated one at a time.

There were also, however, times when I thought, “Ooh, this is cool.” The Espadas look pretty nifty, and because there’s all this special energy in the air, Uryuu’s badass new skills are even more impressive. (Also, I was reminded anew of his similarities to Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.) There’s the dramatic appearance of a couple more friends, as well, but really the best moments are between Orihime and Ulquiorra, her Arrancar captor who I’d swear has begun to admire her quiet bravery. I want to see more of them than I do anything else at this point.

I might be more peeved about the ridiculous moments if I were actually buying and collecting Bleach, but since I’m not, I can simply like it for the things it does get right.

Review copy provided by the publisher.