Fushigi Yuugi, Volume 3 VIZBIG Edition (containing volumes 7-9)

I really love the cover art they chose for the third VIZBIG (three-volumes-in-one) release of Fushigi Yuugi. It depicts Miaka and Tamahome in what appears to be Bei Jia ceremonial garb (Bei-Jia is the northernmost of the four kingdoms in the Universe of the Four Gods, modeled after Mongolia).

But anyways, down to brass tacks. And be forewarned that, like all my reviews, this post is very spoilerific. I would also warn readers that this installment of Fushigi Yuugi gets kind of intense at some points. Volumes 7-9 (entitled “Castaway”, “Friend”, and “Lover”, respectively) are a bit darker than earlier, more comedic volumes have been. Each of the three contains a very tragic and/or violent event with significant traumatic repercussions for our characters. In volume seven, it is the slaughtering of Tamahome’s family at the hands of Suboshi in reparation for the supposed murder of his twin, Amiboshi. In volume eight, it is the tragic death of a main character, Nuriko. In volume nine, it’s Nakago’s apparent rape of the innocent heroine, Miaka. And so although Fushigi Yuugi might technically be classified as shoujo (“young girls”) manga, it definitely earns its T+ (older teens) rating in these three volumes.

Yet in spite of all the tragedy and melodrama contained therein, Fushigi Yuugi is still not nearly as harrowing a read, emotionally speaking, as a more subdued, realistic series could be. For example, I’ve found the melancholy coming-of-age manga Sand Chronicles to be much more affecting, because it feels much more real and is therefore more poignant. With Fushigi Yuugi, its frequent and gratuitous forays into “over-the-top” territory prevent me from ever taking the series seriously, even when its main characters are suffering. That being said, I always enjoy FY, perhaps precisely because it does not need to be taken seriously. Yuu Watase is a talented artist and storyteller, and even if her works incorporate many elements of the ridiculous they are usually engaging and addictive and engrossing. Fushigi Yuugi in particular has a sort of timeless quality that rarely disappoints. I always get sucked into reading it, even though I already know the story from watching the anime, and I’m always excited to pick up each new release, and proud to add each one to my shelves.

Volume 7, “Castaway”, begins just after the botched summoning ceremony. Tai Yi-Jun tells Miaka and the warriors that their last hope for summoning Suzaku is to find the Shentso-Pao, a mystical artifact of the priestess of Genbu, who came to the universe of the four gods many years ago. Tai Yi-Jun also warns Miaka in private that although Tamahome has returned to them, she is to have absolutely no (physical) relations with him; in order to summon Suzaku the priestess must be pure, i.e. a virgin. Confused and conflicted, she begins by treating him coldly to push him away, but confesses everything to him soon enough. Although initially taken aback, Tamahome promises her that until Suzaku is summoned he will be content to serve her faithfully as a celestial warrior should. Once everything is over and peace is restored, however, he will “make her the happiest bride in the world”. Also in this volume, we learn more about Chichiri’s past, and he actually turns out to be a much more serious person than we might have thought. In a touching scene, he confesses his past transgressions to Miaka before removing his mask and showing her, for the first time, his true face. Later on, we also learn about Nuriko’s past, and why he first began to cross dress at a very young age. Nuriko was already one of my favorite characters because of his hilarious, straightforward personality, but this revelation of his more serious, tender side just made me love him all the more. I should have read the warning signs right then and there, but it was only later that I began to suspect the imminent killing-off of his character. Alas.

I’d also like to take a second to appreciate the fact that the summoning of Suzaku, as the driving force of conflict in the story, has come to represent so much more than a simple granting of Miaka’s wishes. When she first learned about her priestess-hood, all Miaka could think about was using her wishes for simple, selfish means like passing her high school entrance exams. At this point in the story, however, she and all the other Suzaku warriors have each become fully committed to the summoning for a higher purpose.

Volume 8, “Friend”, follows Miaka and the six warriors (Hotohori had to stay behind in Hong-Nan and do his emperor thing, poor guy) on their journey to Bei-Jia in search of the Shentso-Pao. I like it when the gang goes on the road, because it invariably provides for lots of humor involving the three most gregarious of the warriors (Tasuki, Tamahome, and Nuriko). After being shipwrecked in a storm, the crew washes ashore on a sinister island populated solely by female warriors who kill men on sight (or do worse to them), so of course the celestial warriors must all disguise themselves as women! Nuriko’s thrilled, Tasuki and Tamahome put up a fuss, and poor, sweet, burly Mitsukake fails miserably despite his honest efforts. They finally escape from the island, but not before some nasty encounters with Seiryu warriors. In order to summon Seiryu, they also need the power of the Shentso-Pao, but rather than seek it themselves, they’ve chosen to go about it indirectly by sabotaging the Suzaku warriors whenever possible. Our heroes do finally prevail and reach Bei-Jia in tact. Their triumph, however, is short-lived.

Both the Seiryu and Suzaku camps reach the capital of Bei-Jia separately, but it doesn’t take long for them to run into each other. Nakago learns that the spirit guardians of the Shentso-Pao will never relinquish it to a Seiryu warrior, so he decides to wait until the Suzaku group wins it fair and square and then steal it from them. Bastard. It’s at this point, when the Miaka & co. are on the verge of securing the Shentso-Pao, that Nuriko dies suddenly and tragically in combat. Although it really is quite devastating for such a lovable character to die so brutally, Nurko is pretty lucky in that he at least got to make peace with himself and his conflicted identity issues (resulting from his sister’s death) before he died. He also got to tell Miaka how important his role as her celestial warrior has been to him, and how much he’s grown as a result of it. Even if he had to do everything over again, he wouldn’t change anything. He’d still choose to die in her service. Heartbroken, Miaka is more determined than ever to summon Suzaku.

In Volume 9, “Lover”, Miaka and her remaining five companions venture into the cave containing the Shentso-Pao, guarded by the spirits of two of the Genbu celestial warriors. After a series of trials, in which Miaka surprises even her own warriors with her newfound strength and resolve, they succeed in receiving the treasure, which actually turns out to be an elaborate necklace worn by the priestess of Genbu during her (successful) summoning ceremony. The group’s happiness is cut short be the discovery that the Shentso-Pao alone is not sufficient to summon Suzaku; they must also secure an artifact from the remaining kingdom, the Western Xi-Lang. Poor Tamahome! His crestfallen “will I ever get married!?” expression is really quite hilarious. But as they emerge from the cave, I was strongly reminded of a line from one of my favorite plays ever, Into the Woods: “You may know what you need but to get what you want better see that you keep what you have.” Because the Shentso-Pao is of course immediately stolen by those gosh-darn Seiryu warriors.

This is almost too much for Miaka. After everything they’ve been through, after Nuriko’s sacrifice, to just lose the Shentso-Pao? Guilt-ridden and distraught, she’s willing to do anything to get it back. Knowing this, Nakago is ready to take advantage of her desperation. Using Seiryu’s power, he creates an illusion of Tai Yi-Jun that tells Miaka the only way to reclaim the S-P is to weaken Nakago’s chi. Because she’s no match for him in combat, her only chance, says the fake Tai Yi-Jun, is to seduce him. Miaka is appalled, naturally. “But I thought the priestess had to be a virgin in order to summon Suzaku?” Fake TYJ says that was just a lie she made up in order to keep her and Tamahome in line. This is especially sickening, because not only does Nakago not love Miaka, he doesn’t even desire her. His one and only motive is to violate Miaka and thereby prevent her from ever summoning Suzaku (because the virgin rule is actually valid). So why doesn’t he just kill her? Because as the priestess of Seiryu, Yui has some control over Nakago and she doesn’t want Miaka dead. She still hates Miaka (or thinks she does) and wants to destroy her chances of happiness, but she doesn’t want to kill her.

And so, crying bitterly, Miaka goes to him, but of course she cannot go through with it. Nakago’s much stronger, however, and easily overpowers her. She desperately tries to access her spiritual powers to fight him, but he’s still too strong, and the effort (plus all the emotional stress) really wipes her out. She faints, and we don’t actually see what happen next. The other Suzaku warriors, meanwhile, have been caught in an illusion of their own, while Tamahome, sensing that Miaka’s in danger, breaks free and follows her. He arrives at the Seiryu camp – just as Nakago is leaving. It’s not long before he puts the pieces together and figures out what must have happened. He’s there when Miaka wakes up (undressed and in pain) and quickly takes her away from the Seiryu camp. The next few scenes are pretty painful, but I love how Tamahome surpresses whatever he must be feeling on his own behalf (anger, hurt, etc) and concentrates solely on Miaka’s needs. He tells her how much he loves her, how much he’ll always love her. “You’re beautiful. You’re no different from before. No one and nothing could defile you. Even if we can’t summon Suzaku, it doesn’t matter. I promised I’d make you happy, remember?” But the pain she feels can’t be so easily mitigated; she still feels hurt and used and guilty. And so while Tamahome sleeps she slips quietly away and runs off on her own. End of volume 9.

Well that was a little more detailed of a summary than I intended, but these were pretty action-packed volumes. Fushigi Yuugi, Volume 4 VIZBIG Edition (containing volumes 10-12) will be available on December 15.

Sand Chronicles, vol. 6: the emotional roller coaster continues

And so, four months after the release of volume five, Viz finally publishes the sixth volume of this award-wining series, which is so dense and poignant for a shoujo title. And don’t let the cover image (which depicts a laughing, carefree, happy-go-lucky Ann and Fuji having the time of their life) fool you; as always, Hinako Ashihara manages to draw readers through the emotional wringer with all the angsty turmoil in volume six. Yet the conflict rarely feels overly manufactured or contrived for the sake of cheating readers into the emotions. The characters are genuine and complex, and while the overall feel of the story is very subdued and melancholic, it has some very thoughtful, sensitive, and truly touching moments.

Summer, Age 18: This volume is divided into two chapters that focus on the summer and winter of Ann’s eighteenth year, respectively. In the first part, Ann and Fuji take a trip to Izu with their Tokyo friends to get away from the city and do some studying (they’re preparing for their college entrance exams). Ann has finally decided to start dating Fuji, but they’re taking it very slowly. After everything that happened with Daigo she’s not quite ready to dive into another intense relationship, but she does want to move on and continue living her life. Unfortunately, when she hears the rumor from Shimane about Daigo dating Ayumu (remember that pushy trouble-maker from volume one?), all the pain comes rushing back to her and we see that despite her cheerful front, she hasn’t moved on at all. Meanwhile, her Tokyo friends are all convinced things are moving way too slowly with her and Fuji and decide to take matters into their own hands. And so, feeling hurt and raw and finding herself constantly thrown together with Fuji in Izu, she ends up sleeping with him for the first time. Afterwords, she realizes that as much as she likes Fuji, a part of her has just been using him to ease the pain of her separation from Daigo. For a girl who already has self-esteem issues, this is a pretty heavy realization. (I used the person it would hurt the most… But, I needed someone to rescue me so badly… When it comes to causing people pain, I’m the expert.)

I have to say, I was pretty disappointed in Ann at this point. I mean, the whole reason she broke up with Daigo was because she felt guilty about the emotional strain she was putting on him by needing to be “rescued” from her personal demons, and by depending on him to save her when she couldn’t really be saved. And now she’s doing the same thing with Fuji, whom she doesn’t even love in the same way. On the other hand, she does seem to recognize her own failings (indeed, nobody’s harder than her than she is on herself), and she genuinely wants to become a stronger person. Yet with the powerful negative example of her own mother’s suicide, and in light of her recent struggles, she’s finding it difficult to maintain hope that she will ever be able to change.

Winter, Age 18: This chapter takes place half a year later and focuses on more of the peripheral characters. Fuji convinces Shika to come clean with their mother about the secret that has driven the three of them apart for so long. This is a huge deal for Shika, and will probably go a long way towards her getting her life back in order, and yet she still hasn’t forgiven herself for the way she took her resentment out on Ann and Daigo the previous year. So she decides to escape her sheltered life in Shimane and spend some time studying abroad. She writes to Ann from Canada, and the two start to rekindle their erstwhile friendship. I think this is a good example of a certain strength and resilience of Shika’s that Ann lacks. They both have these really emotionally scarring experiences in their pasts, and they’ve both hurt people they care about in different ways as a result. They both want to mature into stronger individuals, but Shika’s the one with the chutzpah to actually do something about it. It must have taken a lot of courage for a sheltered girl like her to venture alone into a foreign country, but ultimately I think it will strengthen her.

Of course, Ann’s got a lot on her plate right now, and can’t exactly drop everything and move to Canada. In addition to her college entrance exams, she also discovers that her father and his “friend” Kaede are really more than just friends – and Kaede’s pregnant! I really liked this side story because we got a deeper look at Kaede’s character (she’s been around since volume two), and even a glimpse into her relationship with Miwako (Ann’s mother) and Ann’s father when they were younger. That’s what I like about this series: all the character’s are three-dimensional, not just the main ones. Ann’s relationship with Kaede is pretty good, so this is generally happy news for her, if a little surprising. She’s been so wrapped up in her own problems she hasn’t really noticed what’s been going on right in front of her. I also liked the part when Ann’s grandparents came to the city from Shimane to greet Kaede formally. The grandmother especially is great; if Ann’s looking for a strong female role model, she need look no further.

As for Daigo, we don’t really see much of him this volume. He’s been studying like crazy to try to bring his grades up and get into college, and Ayumu’s been helping him out nonstop. She’s really not as bad a person as we’d been lead to believe in volume one, and she’s grown up a lot since then. She still has a thing for Daigo, but of course he’s still hung up on Ann. Fuji, meanwhile, has come to understand that no matter how hard he tries he will never mean as much to Ann as Daigo did, and the two finally come clean to each other about their feelings in the last scene of the volume. She thanks him and apologizes for everything. He reminds her of how she helped him when nobody else could (by which I assume he means that time he ran away a few years previously). He hugs her and tells her that somewhere out there is a person who will make her happier than he or Daigo ever could. Ann thinks about how even among the millions of people in the world, nobody could possibly be as kind as Fuji or make her feel as special as Daigo. And I tear up just a little bit.

Ah, Sand Chronicles, you always get to me. In a world of manga where many series are hard to read because they’re contrived and shallow and gratuitous, this one is hard to read because it’s intense and painful and real.

First volumes of Sarasah, Ooku: The Inner Chambers

It’s been a while since I’ve written about any manga or manhwa, except for the volumes I covered briefly in my summer summary, so here are the first volumes of two new series from Yen Press and Viz.

Sarasah is written and illustrated by Ryu Ryang and licensed in English by Yen Press. This manhwa tells the story of an obsessive, love-struck teenager named Ji-Hae, whose unrestrained and unwanted attentions kind of push the crazy-stalker envelope. The real story begins, however, on the day the disgusted object of her unbridled affection, a callous pretty boy named Seung-Hyu, accidentally pushes her down a flight of stairs in a careless attempt to brush her off. When some of the guardians of the afterlife (sorry, I don’t know a better way to describe these characters) find Ji-Hae’s spirit hovering between the realms of life and death, they’re not quite sure what to do with her. They’re convinced it’s not yet her time to die, but they don’t know what she’s doing there. On hearing her story, however, they become interested, and decide to send her back in time to the Shilla dynasty, when both she and Seung-Hyu lived as previous incarnations of themselves. And so Ji-Hae embarks on a time-traveling, body-snatching, cross-dressing journey in an attempt to fix whatever went wrong between the two of them the first time around. But it’s not going to be nearly as easy as she thought, as complication after complication ensues.

Ok, so this was a total impulse buy for me. I was browsing through the aisles of Barnes and Noble, with a brand new gift card burning a hole in my pocket, when I saw this title and just decided to buy it on the spot. I’d never heard of the series or the author, but the story looked unusual and interesting, and I’m always keen to try new manhwa. Since purchasing it, I’ve read a lot of negative reviews of this volume from various bloggers. They don’t like the main character, they’re uncomfortable with her crazy obsession with Seung-Hyu, they don’t like the way she’s drawn, etc. I can definitely understand these sentiments (Ji-Hae is kind a of tough pill to swallow, especially in the first chapter), but I was actually pleasantly surprised by this volume as a whole. Yes, Ji-Hae has some serious issues, but she’s young and has lots of room to grow, which I’m hoping will happen over the course of her journey. If she undergoes no character development at all that could be a deal-breaker for the series, but if not it’ll be really interesting to see. Judging from the artwork and overall execution, this is definitely a more juvenile series. Yet the story is intriguing enough that I’m anxious to see where it goes next. So although volume one of Sarasah was kind of a mixed bag, the positive elements outweighed the negative ones for me. I think this series has potential.

Unlike with Sarasah, the release of the first volume of Ooku: The Inner Chambers was something I had looked forward to for months in advance. There had been a lot of buzz in the manga blogging sphere about the licensing of this new, award-winning manga from legendary author Fumi Yoshinaga (creator of Antique Bakery and Flower of Life), and I was kind of caught up in the anticipation. The word “Ooku” in the title (pronounced OH-ku, not oo-ku) refers to the “inner chambers” of the shogun’s palace, where his harem resided and where no man but him could enter. In this series, Yoshinaga creates an intriguing alternate version of Edo Japan, in which a noxious plague has wiped out most of the male population, leaving the women to assume the positions of power traditionally held by men. The shogun is a woman, therefore, and the Inner Chambers are filled with handsome men. The first volume focuses on a handsome young man named Yunoshin who enters the Inner Chambers in order to provide for his family but soon finds that for all its opulence and luxury the Inner Chambers can be a dangerous and lonely place. Towards the end of volume one, the narration shifts to focus more on Yoshimune, the new female shogun who seeks to challenge established rules and question the order of this new society.

While I wasn’t as completely blown away by Ooku as I expected to be, plotwise, I found the execution and artwork intriguing enough to keep me interested in future volumes. It certainly is a very ambitious work, compared to a lot of other manga I read, and there’s a lot there to draw one in. I especially liked the way Yoshinaga seemlessly incorporated such a complete and total gender reversal into her alternative Edo-verse: the women holding all politically significant offices and the men treated for the most part as sexual objects to be bought and sold. The artwork was also quite stunning – not as ornate and extravagant as Bride of the Water God by a long shot – but very impressive in its own way nonetheless. Yet although the premise was fascinating, the dialogue compelling, and the artwork brilliant, the character of Yunoshin felt very bland, kind of neutralizing my enjoyment of much of the first volume. Shogun Yoshimune, however, was very interesting, and I’m quite pleased that it looks like we’ll be seeing much more of her in the future. Overall, volume one of Ooku gave me a lot to think about, and I’ll definitely be checking out volume two, even though it wasn’t quite what I expected.

One last note about Ooku: the translation was pretty terrible. I wouldn’t expect it from such a new edition, but it was bad. The original was written in an archaic form of Japanese, and the translators tried to preserve the effect by throwing in lots of Shakespearian words and expressions with very unnatural, awkward results. Also, with the emphasis on gender reversal and the exploration of feudal sexual politics, this was definitely a more - er - adult manga than what I usually read. And I don’t have a problem with that, per se, the dialogue of Ooku had way more casual, offhand references to a man’s “seed” than should be found in any one volume of historical manga, in my opinion.

Summer Diversions

So, my summer has unfortunately turned out to be rather suckier than most, what with my recovery from surgery being much longer and more complicated than expected, not to mention my having had to move clean across the country and back again in the space of a single month. Still, I did manage to have a little fun here and there in spite of everything, especially in the celebration of my twentieth birthday (yay me!) Although I’ve been woefully negligent of this blog for the abysmally long period of two months, I decided to write a brief summary of all the entertainment I’ve consumed in the interim. That is to say, rather than writing full-length reviews of everything I’ve taken in over the past few weeks, I’ve compiled a list of concise mini-reviews here:

Books

Tess of the d'Urbervilles (Thomas Hardy). Ugh, I did not enjoy this book. My only previous experience with Hardy (reading The Mayor of Casterbridge for a high-school assignment) was likewise an unpleasant one, but I decided to read this on the recommendation of a person whose opinion I highly regard. Sadly, said person and I must agree to disagree on this one. I did appreciate Hardy's frank, non-didactic treatment of the subject of premarital sex, as well as his vivid portraits of the pastoral life of the farming class. Yet I disliked his characters too much to sympathize with their misfortunes, which they bring entirely on themselves. In this novel, as well as in The Mayor of Casterbridge, I found an unnatural and forced abundance of tragedy and melodrama.

Castle in the Air and House of Many Ways (Diana Wynne Jones). If I had to characterize these books with a single word, I would say "delightful." Not for nothing is Jones one of the most successful and respected writers of fantasy for adults and children on either side of the pond. I held off reading these two for quite a while because, although touted as sequels to Howl's Moving Castle (one of my favorite books EVER), this is only half true. Yet I should not have waited: these books may not be direct continuations of HMC, and they may feature Sophie, Howl, and Calcifer only peripherally, but they nevertheless retain all the originality, charm, and wit of that previous work. They are the sort of books that feature characters with whom one cannot help but fall in love, and about whom one cannot read without smiling continuously and laughing outright occasionally.

Teatime for the Traditionally Built (Alexander McCall Smith). The most recent installment in the very enjoyable "No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" series does not disappoint. These books are rather like the literary equivalent of comfort food: simple, wholesome, and emotionally charged. Each novel in the series serves up the same basic dish, but it is invariably delicious. I love the reliable comfort of these familiar characters, with all their quirks and foibles. This tenth book features, among other things, another fabulous episode in the hilariously epic rivalry between Mma Makutsi (my favorite character, btw) and the elegant yet evil Violet Sephotho. Niether the series in general nor this book in particular are particularly strong in terms of tight plotting, but what they lack in that quarter they somehow make up for in general awesomeness. It's just hard to go too wrong with a story about the first and only female detective agency in the bright and beautiful country of Botswana.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (Jane Austin and Seth Grahame-Smith). Yeah, that’s right: I read it. I figured the bizarre-0-factor alone would be worth the price of admission, and as an oddity of popular fiction it was pretty entertaining. Just take one look at the cover, and you’ll learn all you need to know about this unholy marriage of a regency romance and a gruesome gore-fest. Not everybody’s cup of tea, to be sure, but I personally was kind of excited about the idea. Still, the actual execution of said idea leaves a little to be desired. If you’re going to go as far as to transport Austen’s beloved characters into a zombie-infested alternate universe, you may as well play around with the story a bit. Grahame-Smith leaves the original story completely in tact, and just sprinkls in the zombie action here and there. Also, the discrepancy between his capabilities as a writer and those of Austen herself are as decidedly pronounced as that which exists between their choices in subject matter. P&P&Z contains just a few too many glaring grammatical errors and typos for a book written in the style of the early nineteenth century. Somebody needs to inform the author that those who truly wish to emulate Austen’s prose do not end their sentences with prepositions, nor do they split their infinitives. They just don’t.

Manga

The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, vol 3 (Nagaru Tanigawa). My feelings about this volume are pretty much consistent with my reactions to the previous two volumes: generally positive. I absolutely love the whole Haruhi franchise (here's why), but I must recommend the animated version over the manga adaptation as being the higher quality and generally better presentation of the story and characters. Still, volume three will continue to entertain those already hooked on Haruhi, especially since it features a really great sequence from the light novels that did not appear in the anime. Get your fix of ironic chaos and surreal mayhem in volume three of The Melencholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, in which Kyon and the gang deal with more wild ambitions and violent mood swings from their beautiful, fearless, and insane leader. Expect baseball, group shopping, and time travel.

Fushigi Yuugi, Volume 2 VIZBIG Edition (Yuu Watase). When I bought the previously released VIZBIG edition of this series, which contained volumes 1-3 of the series, I wrote a long-ish post about why I though Fushigi Yuugi withstands the test of time in spite of all its cliched storylines and dated artwork. This second VIZBIG installment, containing volumes 4-6, continues to entertain and to amuse. Additionally, volume four introduces my absolute favorite character in the series. I know Tamahome and Hotohori are considered the main heartthrobs of Fushigi Yuugi, but I'm a Tasuki girl all the way. Actually, now that I think about it, he may be tied with Nuriko for my no. 1 favorite FY character. They're both so side-splittingly hilarious, and yet endearing as well. Fushigi Yuugi has many flaws, but I still consider it to be a real gem of a series.

Bride of the Water God, volumes 2 & 3 (Yun Mi-Gyung). This manhwa is a stellar example of a series that doesn’t quite live up to all of its amazing potential. The artwork is strikingly gorgeous, the mythology is intriguing and complex, and the characters and premise are dramatic and interesting. Yet most of the time Bride of the Water God turns out to be more of a hot mess than anything else. All the elements of an incredible series are present; they just don’t all come together as nicely as they could. The plot is often confusing and unfocused. Still, at its heart BotWG is a very good folk/fairy-tale, something for which I am a total sucker. Also, the plot starts to pick up more in volume 3, what Mui’s strange bargain and Soah’s resulting return to Earth, so we’ll see what happens.

Ouran High School Host Club vol. 12 (Hatori Bisco). I’ve been reading this series online as it’s been released, so I already know that it’s around this point in the story (volume twelve) that things really start to pick up, plotwise. Readers who’ve been patient throughout volumes and volumes of filler arcs with no end in sight will start to be rewarded with some real romantic action from here on out. Not that those filler arcs aren’t great in and of themselves; quite the opposite, really. That’s what makes this series such a joy to read. Even when the plot is spiraling off into a seemingly random vortex of nonsense, it’s still character-driven and that’s what really counts. OHSHC is one of those series with which it is difficult to go wrong: consistently funny, endearing, and well-drawn even when the plot defies the boundaries of the plausible.

Dramas

Sons of Sol Pharmacy House (aka My Too Perfect Sons). This weekend drama, currently in the second half of its fifty-episode run on KBS, has got the market cornered on hilarious, heartwarming family drama, not to mention some of the best romantic comedy storylines I’ve seen in a very long time. The cast exhibits a wide variety of talent, the show is well written, and each episode is fun fun FUN to watch. I find myself truly caring about these characters, oftentimes laughing aloud at their antics, and once or twice I’ve even cried at some of the more touching moments. This show is such a wonderful breath of fresh air compared to some of the dud dramas I’ve watched recently.

Television

“True Blood”, season two. Holy canoli, has this show taken off in season two! I’m a fan of the novels on which the show is based, but after watching the first season I was kind of on the fence about whether or not to tune in for more this summer, but boy am I glad I did. This summer, True Blood has significantly improved in both quality and popularity when compared to season one. Not only are there some great new characters, including the newly-turned teen vamp Jessica and the mythically evil maenad Maryann, but some old characters also get more development and backstory, such as the now-short-haired Eric (yay!) I know that Eric in the show will never be what he is in the books, but I’m really starting to like what Skarsgard and the show’s creators are doing with this manifestation of him. Anna Paquin continues to bring fire and life to the character of Sookie, but male lead Stephen Moyer and his character, Bill, continue to irk me. Still, True Blood’s really an ensemble show, and one to which I look forward to watching each week with much anticipation.

“Dollhouse”, unaired episode 14, “Epitaph One.” The much-hyped fourteenth episode of Dollhouse’s first season turned out to be my favorite episode yet. Set in the not-so-distant post-apocalyptic future that results directly from Dollhouse imprinting technology, “Epitaph One” was fifty minutes of intensely riveting entertainment that would have made zero sense to anyone who missed the rest of the season. It actually made it seem as though season one was little more that an introduction to the main action of season two, perhaps of the whole series. That would be a good thing as far as I’m concerned. I am no officially looking forward to season two; I dare say we might expect great things from this show yet.

Theater

Disney presents “The Lion King” on Broadway. Gosh, what could I possibly say about this show that hasn’t already been said? It was amazing, of course, just as everybody said it would be. But what really got me wasn’t so much the costumes, perhaps because I was expecting that, but just the overall presentation of the story. They took a cartoon movie and, rather than creating a literal translation from screen to stage (as with other Disney musicals), they created a truly theatrical interpretation of the original film and used animal characters to tell a powerfully moving and very human story. I’ll admit that I cried, and I’m not ashamed. Plus, the music was great. I have three new favorite songs. Too bad the tickets cost about an arm and a leg. Each.

Sand Chronicles continues to impress in vol. 5

Ooh, this series is really good. But before I gush about it, let me first just say that sometimes I would really like to kill whoever writes the summaries on the back of these manga volumes. Case in point:

"Shika will stop at nothing to steal Daigo from Ann. And the competition ramps up when an attractive girl resurfaces from their past. Meanwhile, Fuji patiently waits to win Ann from Daigo. But who do Ann and Daigo want to be with …?"

Does that sound like something you’d be interesting in reading? Honestly, this summary makes it sound as though Sand Chronicles were chock full of mindless, ditzy fluff when in truth the story focuses on very real and serious issues. If someone unfamiliar with the series picked up this volume in the store they’d have no idea, judging from this description, that they were holding one of the more mature and poignant shoujo titles out there. In fact, Sand Chronicles often reads a lot more like josei than shoujo, but since its main characters are adolescents I guess that’s the age group it’s marketed towards. Then again, they (the characters) have been aging pretty progressively throughout the series thus far, so who knows where they’ll end up by the end. (I think it’s ten volumes long.) In any case, notwithstanding the stupid and misleading summary on the back, Sand Chronicles vol. 5 continues to impress and engage me. I sped through this installment all too quickly, and can hardly wait till September for volume 6.

This volume contains two lengthy chapters that focus on the summer and winter of Ann’s 17th year, respectively. It’s really heartbreaking to see her and Daigo fail to maintain the happy, easy relationship they once had, especially since they clearly love each other a lot. (Maybe too much? Ann even says at one point that her feelings were out of control.) But Ann’s still pretty fragile, and Daigo just can’t fix her issues for her no matter how much he wants to. He’s completely devoted to her, but she can see the strain she’s putting on him and I think that’s why she leaves him so abruptly. Ever since her mother’s suicide, she’s basically clung to Daigo and depended completely on him to get through all her troubles. And while she clearly loves him, she’s never going to be able to heal or grow emotionally if she never learns to stand on her own two feet. And so even though separation from him is painful, I think it’s good for her in the long run. Poor Daigo gets a pretty raw deal though. I think this is a case of love just not being enough to keep two people together.

Meanwhile, Fuji (depicted on the cover with Ann) isn’t really featured very prominently in this volume, especially compared to the last few chapters. I’m still kind of rooting for him, though. Don’t get me wrong, I like Daigo plenty. I just find Fuji to be a much more interesting character. Plus, he’s way more my type. Shika – what to say about Shika? She’s dealing with her own demons and stumbling pretty hard along the way, but I think there’s hope for her to grow into a really healthy, happy girl. She’s in a really difficult position because her status really isolates her from her peers, and her brother’s been absent from her life physically and emotionally, so she doesn’t really have anyone to support her. But I’ve got a suspicion that she’s much tougher than Ann deep down, and that’s she’ll pull through this in time.

I also just want to say that although I’ve emphasized the heavier, more serious aspects of Sand Chronicles, the series does have humor as well and some of it’s relatively light in tone. The serious stuff is the main focus, but it’s got a broad spectrum as well. The thing I really love about this series is that it always feels very real. Sure, it’s dramatic and all that, but the emotion always comes across as complex, genuine, and deep. Plus, all the side characters and minor characters are charmingly three-dimensional, which also contributes to the ‘real’ feeling as well. We’ve got the Tokyo crew and the Shimane crew, and they’re all great.

Ugh, I can’t believe volume six doesn’t come out until September. What’s up with that? Some of Viz’s other shoujo titles are released every other month (Skip Beat!, Nana). I’d understand if Sand Chronicles wasn’t very popular, but it is. Oh, well, go figure.

Memories of Inu Yasha, and of falling in love with manga

Ugh, school’s been a bitch recently. I don’t know when all the professors got together and decided that March was the new April, but it’s starting to tick me off. My course load was just as heavy last term, but I don’t remember being this swamped in the first half of the semester. Sigh, it’s almost as if they wanted me to actually learn stuff. They can be like that sometimes. Anyways, enough whining for now.

Inu Yasha (by Rumiko Takahashi, creator of Ranma ½, One Pound Gospel, Maison Ikkoku and others) is a series that I’ve read most of, but own very little of. I never buy the new ones when they come out (the series is really long and it’s been quite a while since I’ve read it), but I recently acquired the first four volumes in a trade, and I really enjoyed rereading them. It evoked pretty strong feelings of nostalgia for me because Inu Yasha was basically like my first manga love from way back when. So rather than try to review these first four volumes, or even (God forbid) the series as a whole, I’d like to reminisce a bit about what it was like to get sucked into the wonderful and strange world of manga when I was just a clueless kid.

I don’t remember exactly how old I was, but I think I was in middle school. It was summer vacation, and I’d stayed up watching television after everyone else in my family had gone to bed. Flicking randomly through the channels, it was the anime version of Inu Yasha, playing on Adult Swim, that captured and held my attention, probably because it just seemed so strange to me at the time. What exactly was this weird, un-cartoonlike cartoon? And why was it so intriguing? I don’t think I even really knew what anime was at that point, and I certainly hadn’t any interest in it. To me, anime was Pokemon and Yu-gi-oh, and it was for boys. But this Inu Yasha stuff was way different, and became almost immediately engrossed in the story. When the half-hour episode ended, the story was cut off abrubtly. I stayed up the next night to watch the continuation, but I didn’t talk about it to my parents or to any of my siblings.

It didn’t take long for my piqued interest to make the connection between the anime and the funny little backwards books in the back of the bookstore. So the next time the weather was nice, I asked my mother if I could go for a bike ride. I rode to the nearest Barnes and Noble, found the Inu Yasha books, and started at the very beginning. I read for hours, and I came back the next day. I came back as often as I could. I think my mom was vaguely pleased that I’d taken such an interest in bike riding. For my part, I liked the manga of Inu Yasha even better than the anime. I loved the art, the demon/ghost mythology, the backdrop of feudal Japan, the romance. I found it all irresistibly new and different and appealing.

I think I read over twenty volumes of Inu Yasha in that way, without anyone buy myself being the wiser. (I don’t even know why didn’t share any of this with anyone, but I think it has a lot to do with the fact that from the very beginning I always had the distinct sense that manga and anime weren’t exactly mainstream, and a part of my kid self didn’t want to admit that I liked it. There was a reason that Inu Yasha only played on TV after midnight, at least that’s how I saw it. I’ve always had a secretive, reclusive streak in me and this just really brought it out.) Although my obsession with Inu Yasha eventually died down a bit, though not before I’d read all the volumes in the bookstore, I wouldn’t soon forget the experience. From then on, manga has always been an interest of mine, which has grown with me over the years and which I don’t think will go away anytime soon.

Given our history together, I probably am not capable of judging this series with anything resembling objectivity. I know that it’s flawed, of course. The plot becomes very repetitive and endlessly cyclical as the series goes on, and it drags on way too long. Yet it was so thoroughly captivating for me when I first encountered it that I’ve never been able to regard it with anything less than fondness and affection. As the first manga I ever read and truly loved, I think it’ll always hold a very special place in my heart, and, now, on my shelf.

Fushigi Yuugi VizBig #1: volumes 1-3

You know, these VizBig editions are a brilliant marketing strategy. They take a manga series, usually one with pretty longstanding popularity, and re-release it a larger format with two or three volumes bound in one book. Add in some extra features and some full color pages and you’ve got yourself a pretty enticing product. Not to mention the fact that you’re basically getting three volumes of manga for the price of two. I myself would never have decided on my own to purchase the early volumes of Fushigi Yuugi, despite the affection I have for the series, had Viz not offered them in this format. So that’s seventeen bucks they made off me alone just by giving Fushigi Yuugi the VizBig treatment.

Fushigi Yuugi is a pretty classic shoujo series from the 90s that not only was hugely popular in its own time, but has also sustained a considerable fan base (as well as heavy criticism; it’s basically one of those things you either love or loathe) in the decade or so since its conclusion. It has subsequently inspired an anime adaptation, several OVAs, and a manga prequel series, making Fushigi Yuugi quite the shoujo franchise. Yuu Watase, the artist who created the series back in 1992, has since gone on to write/draw several other very successful series such as Ayashi no Ceres, Absolute Boyfriend, and Imadoki (Nowadays). I was first introduced to Fushigi Yuugi through the anime adaptation of the series. I found it to be a bit silly, but lots of fun and full of shameless romantic fluff as well as some pretty decent humor. I ended up reading some of the latter volumes of the manga, but I never went back to the beginning of the series. So when the VizBig edition came out I grabbed it.

Fushigi Yuugi tells the story of a junior-high student named Miaka who actually reminds me a lot of Usagi from Sailormoon: ditzy, gluttonous, but with a heart of gold. Anyways, Miaka and her more mature, reserved friend Yui open a mysterious book called “The Universe of the Four Gods” while studying for their entrance exams in the library and get sucked right into the world of the book – a world somewhat resembling feudal China. Once there, Miaka is identified by the people as the legendary priestess of Suzaku, a girl from another world who will summon the god Suzaku to save the kingdom and be granted a wish of her own. Enticed by the prospect of a wish, Miaka readily agrees without fully considering what she’s getting herself into. In order to summon Suzaku, she must search out the seven celestial warriors from the land who are Suzaku’s servants and guardians of the priestess. Only when all seven are united may Suzaku be summoned. Due to a series of unfortunate circumstances and misunderstandings, Yui and Miaka have a bitter falling-out and Yui accepts the role as priestess of Seiryu for the neighboring rival kingdom. Now Miaka must consider Yui as her enemy if she is ever to succeed in summoning Suzaku and saving the kingdom she’s begun to love.

In the first three volumes, Miaka encounters four of the seven celestial warriors:

• Tamahome, a young man who loves money like Miaka loves food
• Hotohori, who’s actually the emperor of the land
• Nuriko, a crossdressing pretty man with incredible strength and a prickly personality
• Chichiri, a weird but cheerful dude who seems always to show up in a pinch before disappearing again

These guys are all lots of fun, especially as you get to know them as the series progresses.

In addition to all the adventure and romance, this series actually has a pretty good sense of humor. One of my favorite characters from the anime, Nuriko, is particularly hilarious. Watase also has the good sense not to take herself too seriously; she even includes little parodies of the more dramatic moments in the series that are actually pretty funny. Many manga artists like to include occasional side panels in which they kind of ramble on about whatever they feel like to the readers. I always read these, but I found Watase’s comments to be particularly interesting as she wrote them all in the early stages of her career when she was still struggling to find her niche as an artist. Fushigi Yuugi was her first really successful work, after all. Which brings me to another thing: I was really surprised at how different the art of these first three volumes looks when compared with her other series and even with the later volumes of this series. It seems like her art really has evolved a lot over the past fifteen years or so (Fushigi Yuugi was first published in 1992.)

In order to sort of play devil’s advocate, I will say that I can understand why a lot of people don’t like this series. It’s built upon a lot of clichés that many people find annoying: the ditzy yet lovable schoolgirl heroine, one main female character supported by a cast of guys, etc. Yet if you can look past all that, this series actually does have a lot to offer. It’s fun and funny, and the characters are enjoyable.

My one major complaint about this book is that the English translation pretty much sucked. I had to keep reminding myself that the dialogue probably sounds a heck of a lot better in the original Japanese every time I read a particularly awkward phrasing or misplaced colloquialism. Just another thing to look past in order to see the true merits of the material.

The VizBig edition includes some pages of art in color in the front and back, as well as a character introduction page, a sound effects glossary, and a Chinese-to-Japanese glossary. The second VizBig volume of this series, presumably containing volumes 4-6 is scheduled to be released in April. Stay tuned.

First volumes of Your & My Secret and Otomen: a hit and a miss

So I wrote a few days ago about the finale of Rinko Ueda’s Tail of the Moon, and now I’d like to take some time to review the very first volumes of two brand new (to me, at least) series, one of which I found thoroughly engaging and the other one … not so much.

First up: the initially promising yet poorly executed Otomen, by Aya Kanno. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so dissatisfied with this one if my expectations hadn’t been so high. Yet I’d heard and read so many glowingly positive reviews of this firs volume (the only one of the series yet to be published in English), that I just bought it on impulse, completely confident that it would be awesome. (Side note: manga is expensive, so I usually don’t purchase a volume unless I know it’s something I really need to own. That would include mostly continuations of series I’m already hooked on, or series I’ve previewed and researched online.) So anyways, I get home and get ready to be blown away, or at the very least to be amused and entertained. And I really did try to like it; I wanted to like it. Alas, it just wasn’t meant to be.

The concept of the series sounds fresh and interesting enough: a shoujo manga about straight guy Asuka who harbors a secret penchant for all things girly, and forms unlikely relationships with tomboyish girl Ryo and playboy Juta (who’s also got a few secrets of his own). Sounds like there’s lots of potential in there for humor and drama about the trials of coming to terms with oneself and one’s identity, right? Unfortunately, I saw none of that potential come to fruition in this book. I found the plot and dialogue to be un-stimulating and even repetitive, with the same basic scenarios and conversations rehashed multiple times throughout the volume. (And these guys’ lines aren’t particularly interesting to begin with.) The artwork is pleasing enough, but the characters themselves all seem pretty two-dimensional. I had to really push myself just to read through to the end of the volume, never a good sign. I know that many series improve as they go on, but they’ve got to at least keep up my interest in the meantime if I’m gonna stick around to find out. So it’s with a (relatively) heavy heart that I bid farewell to the slam dunk Otomen series I’d conjured up in my imagination, and pass this book on through the paperbackswap to somebody else.

Now reading the first volume of Ai Morinaga’s Your & My Secret, however, was a totally different story. Whereas Otomen completely failed to capture my interest, Your & My Secret drew me in almost instantly. The story features shy, quiet Akira Uehara, who it seems will never be brave or assertive enough to talk to the girl of his dreams. Especially since said girl, Nanako Momoi, although beautiful and elegent, is also incredibly rude, loud, pushy, and selfish. Poor Akira! There’s no way this girl would ever notice him, except maybe to steal his lunch money. Still, he’s hopelessly smitten, and so he pines from afar. Then one day, due to a series of Freaky Friday-like circumstances, the two get flung into each other’s bodies! You haven’t seen wackiness until you’ve witnessed Akira and Nanako wreaking havoc on their school trying to pretend to be one another. And you can bet their classmates are mightily stuck by the bizarre changes in these two. (Mostly they think the “new” Akira and Nanako are vast improvements over the original versions.) The laid-back Nanako seems to take it all in stride, even enjoying the advantages of being a boy, but poor Akira is having a terrible time of it. Confusion and hilarity ensues, and it’s all very entertaining. And I haven’t even said anything yet about all the gender confusion that goes on in our main love – rectangle? Diamond? Dodecahedron? It’s anyone’s guess at this point.

I’ve never read anything by Ai Morinaga before, although I know she’s got some pretty successful series to her name, and so far I’m really impressed. She manages to capture and keep this reader’s attention, and to leave me eager to find out how the story will continue to unfold in the next installment. The artwork is really nice, too, just the combination of detail, cuteness, and animation that I like. Morinaga does a super job of portraying motion; the drawings all seem very lively, whereas I found Otomen to be pretty, but sort of stiff. So, yeah, I’ll definitely be checking out Your & My Secret vol. 2.

Tail of the Moon vol. 15: The saga concludes

I just finished the final installment of this series by Rinko Ueda, and although it wasn’t my favorite volume of the bunch (too much wrapping up and tying of loose ends), I enjoyed the series overall and I’m glad I stuck through until the end.

So, before focusing on this closing volume, some thoughts on the series as a whole. Tail of the Moon is a series that takes a pretty stupid-sounding premise and draws a surprisingly engaging and entertaining story from it. This is due mainly to a good cast of characters, a nice fast pacing, and a healthy sense of humor. The story focuses on Usagi, a young girl from a ninja clan during the pre-Tokugawa years, who is a good herbalist but a very bad ninja. She’s so useless, in fact, that her elders palm her off to the leader of a neighboring clan as a potential bride, figuring that’s all she’ll ever be good for. Unfortunately Hanzo, her husband-to-be, initially wants nothing to do with the clumsy, tactless girl, but Usagi has a way of winning people over in spite of her faults, and the two slowly get closer to one another.

The series isn’t just about romance, though; as the story progresses Usagi learns and grows into a more independent adult, and also gets caught up in the struggles and intrigue of the feuding clans and warlords of a very volatile historical period. I kind of liked how the author incorporated significant historical figures such as Tokugawa Ieyasu, Oda Nobunaga, Ranmaru Mori, and Sen no Rikyu into Usagi’s story, playfully reinterpreting them within the context of the story. And while the series manages to achieve a pretty wide scope (combining drama, romance, history, adventure, and humor), I can’t really say it was all that deep. But it sure was entertaining. I didn’t particularly like the artist’s style but I got used to it. It’s definitely a series geared towards younger readers, and many parts of it were downright ridiculous. But then again, if you can’t stomach a little ridiculousness once in a while I don’t think you’ve got much business reading manga in the first place.

So anyways, volume 15: In this final volume, the main conflict between Usagi and Hanzo over his revenge campaign against Nobunaga comes to a head and is finally resolved in a tense scene that would have been better if it hadn’t felt a little rushed and condensed. This climactic encounter also happens to take place in the middle of a siege on Honniji castle led by Mitsuhide, who’s been driven to desperation by misfortune and despair. Yet in spite of all this drama, almost everybody lives happily ever after and the series ends on a cheerful note. Did that sound abrupt? Well, it kinda was. I mean, I enjoyed revisiting all the characters and seeing (more or less) how their individual storylines were resolved, I wish it hadn’t been so rushed. The volume also included a cute short story at the end featuring a grown up Mamezo that provided an enjoyable conclusion to the series.