Adolf 5: 1945 and All That Remains by Osamu Tezuka: B+

From the back cover:
As American B-29s mercilessly bombard the city of Kobe, childhood friends Adolf Kaufmann and Adolf Kamil are finally reunited. But their love for the same woman threatens to break the last tenuous thread of friendship between them.

While Hitler spends his final days in Berlin, far away in Japan, the fate of the documents revealing the secret of his heritage is sealed forever. Then, over a quarter of a century after D-Day, the two Adolfs cross paths again—this time in Israel—but the gulf between them has only widened with time. Will the once staunch childhood friends make peace with each other before it’s too late?

Review:
Against the backdrop of the final days of World War II, the suspenseful resolution of Adolf‘s various plots plays out. Adolf Kaufmann arrives in Japan to find that the very man he’s been sent to interrogate about treacherous documents is now married to his mother. What’s more, the Jewish girl he sent to safety in Japan is now engaged to his former best friend, Adolf Kamil. While American bombs terrorize the citizens of Kobe, Kaufmann destroys any last shred of sympathy we had for him as his convictions that Germany is always right transform into a maddened zeal to secure that which he believes he deserves, no matter what other people have to say about it.

The key word of my summary paragraph is “suspenseful,” because that’s chiefly what this volume is. There’s more emphasis on wrapping up the story than on the characters themselves and years pass in the blink of an eye, with the final scenes occurring in 1983. Increasing the scope in this way does, however, emphasize the difference between leaders and regular citizens. The terrified Japanese people had surrendered long before their government actually did, for example, while Kaufmann was unable to give up on the Nazi cause after Germany’s defeat. Those who had joined without qualm were the first to walk away, whereas he, who had struggled so hard to stifle his own beliefs and buy into the Jew-hating rhetoric, was left clinging to the Nazi ideals the most tightly. “I gave up everything for this,” he half-exults, half-laments, when he finally succeeds in locating the sought-after documents.

I do love that the documents, subject of so much pain and misery, finally come to light at a moment where they are utterly useless. So much effort has been expended on locating them and, in the end, they’re simply handed back to Toge because they’re not worth anything anymore. It was all futile and, in the end, I think Tezuka is making exactly that same point about war in general, and this war in particular.

I’d love to see Adolf reissued in a swanky new VIZ Signature format, perhaps split into two omnibus editions. It’s not hard to come by as it is, but it’s definitely an unforgettable manga that deserves to be back in print.

Cheeky Angel 19-20 by Hiroyuki Nishimori: B-

With these two volumes, Cheeky Angel comes to a close. Although it’s a bit rushed, the conclusion is ultimately fitting.

Warning: spoilers ahead.

Earlier in the series, the gang thwarted plans to marry Miki off to a slimy family associate by pretending that she and Genzo are in love. The rejected suitor, eager to solidify ties with Miki’s rich family, holds a grudge and captures the main cast, subjecting them to all sorts of high-stakes scenarios in an attempt to get them to turn on each other, but it never works. In the end, Miki winds up imprisoned in a tower, watching videos of the hardships her friends are enduring while they attempt to rescue her.

As a plot, this is highly ridiculous and not much different from the same sort of stories we’ve seen all along in this series. I had hoped for something new for the finale, but alas, that was not to be. Still, I like that this setup provides every character with a chance to be their best. Everyone—even traditionally weaker characters like average guy Ichiro and pervy Yasuda—makes a contribution to the effort to rescue Miki, and there are some really nice character moments. Favorites include Genzo’s absolute confidence that Meg would find a way to extricate herself from a prison cell in which she was briefly confined and Miki’s steadfast refusal to succumb to the bad guys’ attempts to make her feel bad that her friends are doing all this on her behalf.

After Miki is safe and life begins to return to normal, Meg shares a sweet smooch with Genzo (Ichiro: “Did he steal your lips?” Meg: “You really think I’d allow it? I stole his.”) and the spell is finally broken. Only two scant chapters deal with the question of Meg’s actual gender. I wish more time had been spent on this topic, but the way it’s presented does provide food for thought, at least.

It turns out that Meg, instead of wishing to be the manliest of men, was always a girl and wished to become a man. Her desire for this seems to be twofold. First, she believes that if she is a guy, that she’ll be able to protect Miki for as long as she is needed. Secondly, she wants to be able to be herself without being influenced by what girls are supposed to do and not do. And so, the genie makes her believe she was always a guy, and though her physical strength and determination are not actually changed, she feels more confident and is able to be herself without worrying so much about expectations. At least, that’s what I got out of it.

Aside from the unoriginal plot here at the end, my one real regret about the finale is that there are no hints at all that Miki and Hitomoji, a former Meg devotee who recently realized that Miki is the perfect girl for him, will ever become a couple. I don’t ask for a full-blown confession scene; a single panel depicting a self-conscious exchange of glances would’ve been enough to make me happy.

Cheeky Angel is not the best manga ever, but if you’re looking for some lighthearted, fanservice-free shounen with a capable heroine and a love interest who respects her competence, then look no further.

The Gentlemen’s Alliance Cross 11 by Arina Tanemura: C+

When this series was wrapping up in Japan, I heard rumors about how it ended. Word was fans were peeved because, in the end, the heroine does not make a decision between the twin brothers for whom she has feelings. It turns out that this isn’t true, though author’s notes from Tanemura indicate that her original intention was for Haine to marry both boys and not just one. And yes, this is the kind of shojo that ends with a wedding.

As the conclusion approaches, all kinds of things happen that are probably supposed to be dramatic but just make me laugh. Haine confronts the twins’ grandfather about an archaic family tradition that establishes one as the heir and the other as mere stand-in, demonstrating her anger by ripping up a chair cushion. She then proceeds to talk down a gun-wielding friend by diagnosing his angst within three pages, gets shot anyway, narrates insipid dialogue like “Even if I’m mistaken… if what I make my mind up to do will lead to happiness then I can do it,” convinces gramps to acknowledge both twins, relays the good news to the boys, and then promptly collapses from her wound.

It’s all extremely silly, but there’s at least some enjoyment to be derived from watching all the clichés at play. Also, it seems that the art—though extravagantly toned as per usual—is a bit prettier in this volume. Perhaps Tanemura stepped it up a notch for the big finale.

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

Library Wars: Love & War 1 by Hiro Arikawa and Kiiro Yumi: B

At some point in the near future, the national government of Japan passes the Media Betterment Act, which “seeks to exercise censorship over all media, including restricting offensive books.” Libraries are the only institutions able to oppose them, and so local governments build up armed forces to defend their libraries, which continue to preserve banned works in their collections and make them available to the people.

When Iku Kasahara was in her final year of high school, a member of the Library Forces intervened during a bookstore raid and prevented a beloved book from falling into the grasp of the Media Betterment Committee. The incident made a big impression on her and, after graduating from college, she enlists. As a new recruit, she must attend classes, complete grueling physical challenges, help out at the local library, and participate in woodsy training sessions.

While we see all of these scenarios play out in this introductory volume, the focus is really on Iku’s relationship with Dojo, her cranky commanding officer. To the reader, it is plainly obvious that he was the one who helped Iku in the bookstore that day, but Iku fails to connect him with her idealized prince. Because he pushes her harder than the other recruits—since he expects more of her—she thinks he hates her and is suspicious of his occasional kindness. For his part, Dojo is clearly smitten and impressed by Iku’s determination, even though her frequent intellectual lapses do try his patience.

Library Wars is a perfectly decent read, but it does have some issues. Firstly, the basic concept, as inherited by the series of light novels upon which the manga is based. If the national government has banned offensive books, why isn’t it going after the publishers of these books isntead of waiting until they’ve actually been printed to go confiscate them from bookstores? That doesn’t make much sense.

Secondly, the protagonist. I really appreciate that Iku is a physically coordinated heroine in her twenties, but wish that she wasn’t portrayed as such a scholastic ditz, forever sleeping in class and having to learn on the job what she was supposed to have learned in the classroom. I found myself sympathizing with Tezuka, her antagonistic fellow recruit, who is annoyed that such a slacker is able to achieve the same honor—a spot on an elite squad—that he was only able to attain through hard work.

Lastly, I am bothered by the inconsistency with which VIZ (presumably) has treated the characters’ ranks. Iku is first introduced as a Corporal, yet she is later identified as a Sergeant on a chart of characters and their positions and, indeed, the insignia on her uniform bears this out. Dojo, in turn, is called a Sergeant but according to the chart and his uniform, is actually a First Lieutenant. I know I shouldn’t let this sort of thing distract me from the story, but it’s a mistake that’s repeated so frequently I just couldn’t help it. Hopefully they’ll correct it for volume two.

I enjoyed Library Wars enough that I plan to continue with the series, though I doubt it’ll ever top my personal list of beloved books.

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

Fullmetal Alchemist 1-2 by Hiromu Arakawa: B+

I’ve been hoarding volumes of Fullmetal Alchemist for several years. Having heard it praised for its impressive storytelling, I decided to wait until it was nearer to being finished in Japan before starting it, with the idea that I might be spared some of the long waits between volumes that other fans have endured. But now, word is that the end is nigh, and with MJ recommending it to me so ardently, the time has finally come. Cracking open that first volume felt like quite the momentous occasion.

Edward and Alphonse Elric are unlike normal teenage boys. Both studied alchemy as children and when Edward found a way to bring their beloved mother back to life, the boys performed the ritual without a second thought, not realizing—in the “equivalent exchange” demanded by alchemy—that it would cost Edward his left leg and Alphonse his entire body. After exchanging his right arm for Alphonse’s soul, Edward grafted the soul into the one human-shaped thing that was handy at the time: a suit of armor. Edward is haunted by this mistake, not to mention the memory of what they actually managed to resurrect for their sacrifice, and his primary concern is regaining their original bodies. To that end, they travel the world looking for the Philosopher’s Stone, an alchemical power booster that might make this possible.

The brothers’ travels bring them into contact with trouble in various forms. Their first deed is to expose an alchemist posing as a religious figure, followed by freeing occupants of a mining town from the corruption of a military official and foiling a train hijacking. While this is going on, Edward is also trying to learn as much as he can about biological transmutation. In the second volume, his research leads him to a state alchemist who’s had some success in this area, which in turn takes the story down a very dark avenue involving human experimentation and a vigilante named Scar who takes it upon himself to execute alchemists who have violated the laws of nature.

I knew exceedingly little about Fullmetal Alchemist going into this, which is great. I knew about the brothers’ injuries, though not how they obtained them, and I knew they’d meet a mechanically inclined girl at some point. That’s it. As a result, I was surprised by a number of things as I read, including the presence of comedy. I’m not sure why I thought there wouldn’t be any, but having lighthearted moments sprinkled throughout is definitely welcome, especially once the story delves into more disturbing territory. I particularly love anything that shows that Alphonse, trapped inside a hulking steel shell, is really just a kid.

I was also surprised (and impressed) that the series tackles the religion vs. science question right away with the story of the fraudulent holy man. This also provides an opportunity to introduce Edward’s feelings about alchemy: because alchemists strive to understand the laws of nature, they are perhaps the closest to God that a human can achieve, but overstepping certain bounds—he likens this to the hubris of Icarus—leads only to sorrow and pain. His conflicted feelings resurface several times in these two volumes; one gets the idea that he would like to avoid the very kind of alchemy he’s been researching, but because it’s his best chance at bodily restoration, he’s got no choice.

Lastly, I was downright shocked by some things in the second volume. Somehow, I had expected the Elric brothers to save Nina, the child of a desperate alchemist about to lose state funding, from her father’s experimentation, but this was not to be. Similarly, I expected them to escape grievous bodily harm when fighting Scar so imagine my surprise when both are gravely injured in volume two. That’s just not normal! Shounen heroes are supposed to sustain wounds that would kill an average guy three times over and then get up for more!

I had originally planned to read three volumes for this review, but so much had happened by the end of volume two that I required time to digest it all. I’m used to a shounen manga’s second volume being the stage of the story where some wacky episodic hijinks introduce our hero to the rivals who’ll eventually become part of his entourage. It’s usually not until half a dozen volumes later that you glimpse the real meat of the story. Not so with Fullmetal Alchemist, which lulls you into expecting that episodic setup but makes with the buildup and continuity right away. I can already tell, and believe me that I mean this as a most sincere compliment, that this is going to be one challenging series.

Fullmetal Alchemist is published in English by VIZ. There are 22 volumes currently available, with volume 23 due out next month. We’re pretty close to being caught up to Japan, where volume 25 just came out in late April.

Ristorante Paradiso by Natsume Ono: B+

Twenty-one-year-old Nicoletta arrives in Rome with the intention of confronting her absentee mother, Olga, and revealing the fact of her existence to Olga’s husband, Lorenzo, who had believed his wife to be childless. Instead, she becomes entranced by her mother’s world and ultimately finds a place in it.

Olga and Lorenzo run a restaurant, and though the food is excellent, many of the patrons come just to see the waiters, a staff of mostly older men who all wear glasses (whether necessary or not) to indulge Olga’s whim. At first Nicoletta is perplexed by the multitude of women swooning over these men until she begins to notice the particular charms of Claudio, the head waiter. Claudio is graceful, sexy, and very kind, though he’s still hung up on his ex-wife and continues to wear his wedding ring. Although Nicoletta originally wrangles a job as a kitchen apprentice in order to be near him, she proves to be genuinely good at cooking. She becomes part of the restaurant’s family, and her relationship with Olga improves as a result.

Ristorante Paradiso is a completely different kind of story than not simple, the other Natsume Ono title currently available in English. It’s happy, for one thing, with a cozy, slice-of-life storytelling style and the kind of predictable yet comforting conclusion that would be perfectly at home in an Italian holiday kind of chick flick. Things between Nicoletta and Olga work out too easily, but most of the focus is on the guys anyway, so I’m not as annoyed as I otherwise would be.

Let’s talk about those guys for a minute. Sexy Claudio is definitely the star among them, but grumpy yet kind Luciano is another standout, as is Gigi, Lorenzo’s eccentric half-brother who seems to have a completely unspoken thing for the boss’s wife. Nicoletta is continually upstaged by these men—and by Olga, whose zeal for life makes her a sympathetic character despite the mistakes she made in the past—and it’s no wonder that Gente, the prequel/sequel series due from VIZ in July, focuses on them and not her. Nicoletta starts out as a directionless twenty-something in search of her place in the world, but we just don’t get to know her well enough to find her journey truly compelling. That said, I did appreciate her confidence in certain situations and she has a terrific final line.

It might just be an illusion, but Natsume Ono’s art looks a little more traditional here than in not simple. There’s no way you’d mistake her work for anyone else’s, but the characters seem more normally proportioned and she really does a great job in conveying Claudio’s gentle demeanor and appeal whenever he appears. While the “show don’t tell” rule gets broken on several occasions, there are still a few examples of good nonverbal communication, too. My one artistic complaint is that I wish we could have seen more of the food! Then we might have had something like the Antique Bakery of Italian cuisine. The subtle inclusion of a hilariously oversized ravioli made by Olga is some compensation, however.

In the end, Ristorante Paradiso is definitely worth reading. The plot won’t knock your socks off, but the experience will likely put a smile on your face nonetheless.

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

The Record of a Fallen Vampire 1-3 by Kyo Shirodaira and Yuri Kimura: B+

For the first two volumes of The Record of a Fallen Vampire, one thinks one has things figured out. There’s the vampire king, Akabara Strauss, who has tirelessly searched for his imprisoned queen for 1000 years despite being hunted by both human and supernatural foes, inspiring much romantic speculation. There’s the dhampire (a human/vampire mix) Jin Renka, who is also motivated by a love that was taken from him, a human named Yuki who was possessed by the Black Swan—a curse that imparts the ability to nullify the vampire king’s magic—and killed by Strauss. And then there’s the newest incarnation of the Black Swan, Kayuki, who, instead of fighting Strauss like she ought to do, instead initiates a truce with him because his help is needed in dealing with a problem of some magnitude.

And then along comes volume three and turns everything on its ear. It would be unfair to spoil the surprise, but at least one new development is so cracktastic one has to admire it.

The Record of a Fallen Vampire is scripted by Kyo Shirodaira, whose authorial blurb mentions he’s a novelist (and performed writerly duties for Spiral: Bonds of Reasoning, as well). He’s taken a novelistic approach with this series, too, pacing the opening volumes to dole out morsels of information at just the right pace, and waiting until the third volume to roll out the surprises. Also, because this series is complete in nine volumes, one suspects that the rest of the story will be equally well plotted. Shirodaira’s sure-handed approach allows one to confidently accept ideas like dhampires and curses without a fuss, concepts that could easily seem ridiculous if sloppily executed.

The characters are also an interesting bunch, and a couple of them—Akabara and his former general turned enemy, Bridget—have already been shown to have layers beyond their combative roles. The dhampires and Black Swan might be compelled to fight the super-powerful Strauss, but nonetheless concede that he’s a good guy. He definitely has his share of sins, but he knows this and is fully prepared to pay for them, and it doesn’t deter him from his relentless search for the queen. Even Laetitia, the young dhampire who Strauss has taken under his wing, manages to be the child-like comic relief without being annoying.

The one problematic note in the early volumes is the art by Yuri Kimura. Improvement is already noticeable by volume three, but problems with anatomy and proportion plague the first volume. The most glaring example is the back cover, which depicts a creepy, pink-haired girl with huge hands and a huge head on a too-tall stalk of a neck. She looks like an alien! This is actually supposed to be Yuki, who happily looks more human in the interior art.

It’s probably obvious that I enjoyed these three volumes quite a bit. I hope to get to the rest soon, because this is a series where storytelling momentum is especially important.

The Record of a Fallen Vampire is published in English by VIZ. All nine volumes are available now.

Cactus’s Secret 2 by Nana Haruta: B-

Miku Yamada has finally managed to make her dense crush, Kyohei Fujioka, understand that she has feelings for him, even though he doesn’t reciprocate. Meanwhile, a pompous classmate publicly declares his affections for Miku and attempts to get Kyohei expelled for stealing the answers to the midterm exams. Later, Miku and Kyohei are both assigned to the Sports Day Planning Committee, where the lovely chief gets too close to Kyohei for Miku’s comfort.

I didn’t have too great an impression of this series after the first volume, since I found the lead character abrasive and largely to blame for her own angst. Things improve in volume two, in which Miku’s tendency to rant actually helps clear up the cheating accusation and in which Kyohei exhibits sufficient obliviousness to justify her irritation. There’s also an especially nice chapter where the two of them get lost on their way to karaoke with friends and end up having a nice time together at the arcade, complete with some genuinely amusing photo stickers.

Unfortunately, we’re only in volume two and the cast already includes four romantic rivals. They do propel the plot along, at least, with the Planning Committee chief causing Miku some pain when she realizes that something Kyohei said to her is the same thing he’d say to anybody else and the new male character offering to reveal Kyohei’s mysterious secret if Miku goes out with him, but it’s still tiresome.

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

switch 1-2 by naked ape: C+

Although I knew of the existence of switch, I hadn’t been motivated to read it until David Welsh likened it to Wild Adapter fan fiction. Since I’m pining for new Wild Adapter rather ardently, I decided to check it out.

switch tells the story of a government-run Narcotics Control Division, specifically a pair of rookie investigators, as they attempt to get dangerous drugs off the street. Prickly Hal Kurabayashi is the more senior of the pair and friendly Kai Eto is his new partner—together they pursue leads, conduct busts, and go undercover in sting operations. In addition to smaller cases, they’re also involved in the ongoing investigation into Dragon Speed, a stimulant coming out of Hong Kong.

To judge this series by its premise alone, one might think (as I did) that it sounds pretty interesting. I’m a fan of detective fiction, after all, as well as stories with long mystery arcs. Unfortunately, switch falls flat in its execution. None of the cases is particularly captivating so far, with the possible exception of a popular actor who’s hooked on Dragon Speed, but what’s more disappointing is that none of the characters are, either. Kai possesses a violent alter-ego that activates when he is injured, and normally this would provoke speculation about his mysterious past, but it just comes across as bland cliché. Hal doesn’t do much except act surly. The tone’s also rather strange, with frequent gag panels and scenarios that are supposed to be funny but just really, really aren’t.

All that said, David did not fail to mention that switch gets off to a lackluster start but that he found a later volume to be much improved. Aside from some superficial similarities, there’s not much of a Wild Adapter vibe so far, but it’s pretty clear that Hal and Kai are going to become closer and learn to rely on one another eventually, so perhaps it will develop in future volumes. In the meantime, if you’re hankering for something like Wild Adapter, might I suggest simply rereading the original?

Banana Fish 3-4 by Akimi Yoshida: A-

The action ramps up in these two volumes of Banana Fish as Ash and his allies follow the trail of the drug known as “Banana Fish” from New York to Los Angeles and more details about its nature, as well as Ash’s background, come to light.

There’s a lot going on here, including prison power struggles, an incredibly badass assassination attempt in a Chinatown fish market, a cross-country road trip, conflicting loyalties and military conspiracies. This is an intricately plotted story—an epic quest that has become absolutely fascinating and causes actual pangs of remorse when one must tell oneself, “No, you can’t go on to volume five. What about that library book that was due yesterday?”

Ash is a highly compelling lead, and a few of his layers are peeled back in these two volumes, giving readers a little more insight into what makes him tick. For instance, a lot of the time when he comes across as harsh, he’s just sparing others the need to voice unpleasant truths. This comes to light in a scene where he convinces Eiji to return to Japan by informing him he’ll be a hindrance—afterwards we see that it really bothered Ash to have to hurt Eiji in this way, though he pretends otherwise, but that he’s willing to do it in order to protect the one person who has ever helped him without expecting anything in return. Ash was betrayed at a young age by the negligence of his parents, but still has the ability to protect those he cares about, even though he might pretend he’s too tough to feel such tender emotions.

Eiji’s motivations are also explored in these volumes. Though his comfortable life has enabled him to live without a gun in his hand—“You can do something I can’t,” Ash remarks. “We’re even.”—he nonetheless has had his share of problems. Once a promising athlete, an injury shook his confidence and left him feeling adrift. He might not be invested in finding out the truth about Banana Fish, but he is invested in Ash, and staying by his side could be just what he needs to feel like he is accomplishing something in his life. “I want to quit quitting,” he remarks, and even though he is exposed to quite a lot of horrible things through his association with Ash, his convictions do not waver until Ash flat-out tells him he’ll do more harm than good.

I love the bond that’s developing between these two characters—bolstered by a couple of really awesome scenes between them—and also enjoy the dynamic amongst the older members of Ash’s retinue, a pair of journalists (one Japanese, one American) with their own reasons for tagging along and who occasionally offer insights onto the feelings and perspectives of their younger counterparts. It’s a very well-rounded cast, and a few ladies even show up in this volume, though all seem poised to be victims of one kind or another.

The only thing that still bugs me about Banana Fish is the art. A lot of the time it’s quite good and I can actually see what the back cover means when it says, “Nature made Ash Lynx beautiful.” Sometimes, though, the anatomy is rather weird—there’s one high kick from Ash that only a Barbie could achieve—and the depiction of African-Americans continues to be problematic. Seriously, please quit drawing their lips so they look like Mr. Bill, Yoshida-sensei. It makes me sad.

Minor complaints aside, Banana Fish is a masterpiece of plot and characterization, and should really be read by anyone who considers themselves a manga fan.