WaqWaq 1

Perhaps the most interesting thing about this series is its title, which I get a great deal of pleasure saying out loud as “whack whack,” which is wrong, but it doesn’t really matter to me. It’s written with a macron over the a, like “WĀQWĀQ.” WĀQWĀQ is the name of the world the characters live in, so it does get used every once in awhile in the book itself. The font used in the book doesn’t really allow for diacritical marks (the cap height/overshoot seems to be enforced rather strictly), so that the a in WĀQWĀQ shrinks whenever the word appears. It looks like “WāQWāQ” except the A is still capital. This made me smile, but I also sat through far more than my share of typography classes (fun fact: I also adore this layout because of the font, I love old style numerals dearly).

Based on the overly-detailed typographic analysis that I cite as “the most interesting thing,” you may have gathered that I didn’t really like this book, and you would be right. I was bitterly disappointed, because I really want to love it. It’s written by Ryu Fujisaki, who also does Hoshin Engi, a favorite of mine. If I’m not mistaken, WaqWaq was actually written immediately after Hoshin Engi, but you would never guess. note: it came a couple years later, and there was a 2-volume series between, but the coming after HE point is still valid.  Houshin Engi has its problems, mostly they have to do with a gigantic cast of characters and the way it throws around its own terms/Chinese terms for all its weapons and the spiritual power system. But Hoshin Engi has enough good qualities that it’s worthwhile to learn all that stuff in order to watch all that stuff work together and succeed.

Not so with WaqWaq. My biggest problem was that I frequently couldn’t figure out what was going on. This series’ thing is that the guardian characters fuse with robots and fight each other. It took me a long time to figure out how the fights were happening… if they turned into robots, if the robots were somehow on their person, if the robots were actually gigantic and floating up in the sky, or even if the guardians were fusing with the enemy robots in order to beat them. I was 90 pages and three robot fights in before it bothered me enough to pore over the first few pages and the first battle to figure out how it was being done.

The fights made me cry, too, because you honestly can’t tell what’s going on. The robots are very free-form and organic, and they have the ability to change shape (?) and use different powers. I just read these panels as “a fight happening,” and there really wasn’t anything important going on, but still. It was pretty ridiculous, especially given the fact that there was no confusion like this in the magical battles in Hoshin Engi, which were far more free-form than these robot fights should be. Even outside the action scenes, the sense of place is really terrible, and you frequently can’t tell where the characters are supposed to be, what they’re doing, and where they are in relation to each other. Again, these things are not a problem in Hoshin Engi, and I have no idea why it’s suddenly worse here.

The plot is also… somewhat lacking. A girl from our world is somehow pulled into WaqWaq, a world where small enclaves of humans are being attacked constantly by robots, and where they have a legend that a red-blooded Kami created the world and will eventually come back. Well, since the girl bleeds red, the main character, one of the seven Guardians in WaqWaq that protects the cities from robot attacks, assumes she is the Kami, and protects her as per his father’s dying wish. Other Guardians try to kill the main character in order to take her and make her grant their wishes, something the Kami apparently does. The themes are things like not wanting to fight, finding out your opponent’s motivation before deciding he’s a bad guy, um… tolerance, maybe? The story seems to be going in a fairly straightforward direction (all the guardians will be fought, and it seems that both the Guardian and the girl are on their way to being used by some sort of shadow being), and the characters are still pretty shallow.

The character designs and style to the artwork are still pretty fun though, something that Hoshin Engi actually excels at and I always fail to mention.

This is also only 4 volumes long, and I was always under the impression that it was canned fairly quickly from Shounen Jump. Now I know why. I can’t see this going any place interesting, but I’ll probably keep reading it anyway out of love for Ryu Fujisaki. I just… I can’t believe that no good can come of this after all the amazing stuff with plot and characters going on in Hoshin Engi. For now, just read Hoshin Engi.

This was a review copy provided by Viz.


Eden 2

This was better than the first volume in that my least favorite part, the obvious and heavy-handed religious themes, were toned way down.  Unfortunately, some of them are still there, and the messages still aren’t all that subtle or even very worthwhile.  Prepare yourself for a conversation about what God’s role is in the present day and what he means to both the Muslim and Judeo-Christian religions that sits rather awkwardly when it is told.  Perhaps there are layers I’m just not getting, but I’m going to give myself a little more credit than that, because… yeah, these discussions really aren’t handled well. But they are improving.

This still leans heavily on politics to drive the story, and I’m just not feeling it.  We find out that Elijah’s father is a South American drug lord, or perhaps the South American drug lord, and the reason he’s wandering around with guerrillas/mercenaries is that he escaped from a kidnapping attempt by Propater when his mom and sister did not.  The general consensus seems to be that his father is a monster (as you might imagine of someone who is the main South American drug lord), and the atrocities committed by/for his family do come up, but this is the type of thing that could get more interesting as the story goes on.

Much emphasis is put on each character’s personal story.  The mercenaries/guerrillas wind up rescuing two prostitutes from an attack on a base at the beginning of the volume.  Elijah is actually the one that spares their lives, as the rest of the mercenaries think it best to kill the two of them (and they actually mercilessly slaughter everyone at the base, including two other women that were brought in as prostitutes).  One of them is a professional that enlightens us to Elijah’s family situation as well as her own (she comes from a family of prostitutes), whereas the other is a girl of Incan descent whose village was subject to an “ethnic cleansing.”  This segues nicely into the background of the leader of the mercenaries, whose village in former USSR Georgia was also ethnically cleansed of Muslims, including his family.  I liked these parts too, but again, it seemed a bit like the story was reaching for themes that it isn’t quite prepared to discuss.

Aside from the slaughter at the base in the beginning of the volume, there is also surprisingly little violence, something I thought was this title’s selling point.  We do get to see Cherubim, the gigantic robot, unload into a crowd of people, which will never get old.  I’m actually a little disappointed that Cherubim and Elijah are still hanging out with the mercenaries, because… well, it seems like if he could gain control of Cherubim, he could just leave.  Elijah seems like he’s starting to like being with the mercenaries, though.

Also, there is promise in Kenji, one of the guerillas/mercenaries.  He seems to be a psychopath, and that could go places.  I’m not sure I’m going to continue this series after the third volume, though.


We Were There 5

This book ended on the worst cliffhanger in the history of manga.

That is all.

Not really.

The story ended in a horrible place, and I was initially upset that the last quarter or so of the book was a short story, but thankfully it’s a story about Motoharu and Take and their friendship.  I really appreciated the background on the two of them after the main story in this volume.

So, if it wasn’t immediately apparent by my anguish in these last two reviews, Yano and Nana-chan are going through some rough times.  Take and Yano are fighting over Nana in this volume, and the relationship between the two is handled beautifully.  While it’s always been apparent that Take would try and move in on Nana at some point, he seems to be doing it as a method to spur Yano into action and out of his depression about losing Nana… later in the book, the motives aren’t so clear, though.  Actually, the motives are always clear, but things are very, very serious when the book ends.

The friendship between Motoharu and Take has been in the background of the series since the first volume, but I really, really appreciated the short story that shed light on just how much the two boys mean to each other.  Take says it best at one point when he mentions that he knows Yano better than his own family… and, well, we learn that neither women nor deeply offensive insults really get between the two.  It lets you know just how shaky things are where the story leaves off here.

Also notable is the fact that, while Yano is emotionally at rock bottom, he doesn’t break down and cry.  Most series would have had him in tears long ago, but… not this one.  I kept waiting for it, and it didn’t come.  Of course, in other series, tears would be used as a substitute for actually conveying the emotions (a character cries because he is sad/to let the reader know they are very sad, if that makes sense), whereas here the crushing despair is wafting off every page.

I want Yano and Nana back together stat, even though it somehow always feels bad when they’re together.  That is the magic of We Were There.  Even with all the sadness, the genuine love those two share comes across loud and clear, and I would like nothing more than to see the two of them pull through and be as happy as they always look on the covers of the books.

This was a review copy provided by Viz.


I”s 7

I think the thing that differentiates I”s from the standard Shounen Jump cupcake series is probably the fact that the jokes about the main character being kind of dorky aren’t made by the other characters.  Ichitaka makes fun of himself, and I get a lot more pleasure when the other characters aren’t constantly demeaning the main character for things that boys do.  The fact that he feels embarrassed does come up, which is a big part of this type of thing, but it’s all in Ichitaka’s mind.  The I”s magic is that all the commentary comes from Ichitaka and not a female harem that hates him.

Also, unlike most other manga, there is a lot of narration given by Ichitaka.  In the strictest sense, I suppose you could consider them thought balloons, but it’s generally a description of whatever is going on from Ichitaka’s point of view given inside thick-bordered round balloons with no stems.  If you put them in a little box at the bottom of the panel, they would be narration (something you’d find in any American graphic novel to describe nearly everything).  I have no idea why this technique isn’t used more frequently in manga… but it just isn’t.  Baoh uses it (and Jojo too, to a lesser extent), and I”s uses it extensively, and those are the only two series I can think of.

Moving right along, the name of this volume is “Spank.”  That had nothing to do with its contents.  That’s the other reason this series is magical, because it does revel in absolutely everything you would find in a shounen romance without being trashy about it.  Well, without being too trashy.  The characters revel in it as much as the reader, I think, which also makes a difference.

After the game of “Kings” is done, Ichitaka has some serious problems gathering his thoughts on Iori and whether or not she feels the same way he does.  All signs point to yes, and Ichitaka’s friend helps him along by casting the pair in some sort of gender-crossed love story where Ichitaka, as a girl, has to confess his feelings for Iori at the end of the movie.  It’s… kind of weird, and exactly what you think it is, but I thoroughly enjoyed watching Ichitaka beat himself up internally throughout.

But, of course, things do not end well for Ichitaka, and he’s rather crushed by the end of the volume.  This series is great for its humor, but it can also do fairly heartbreaking scenes, like Ichitaka hitting “rock bottom” at the end here.  That’s another good reason I”s is better than most other shounen romance series.


Nora: The Last Chronicle of Devildom 6

Oh man, I love this series so much.  This volume is full of all the important plot points that have been building up.  All secrets are revealed here, and the fruits of all that exposition are delicious.

Well, that’s true, and it’s not.  I get a ridiculous amount of pleasure from reading every new volume of this series, but it can be guilty of using common shonen plot devices.  And when I say “can be,” I mean “most of it is,” but somehow I forgive it a thousand times over.  For instance, the nature of Nora and Kazuma’s relationship is revealed, as is their proper positions in the demon world.  Now, I didn’t see this coming at all, but I can’t say I was surprised since the story does take a well-beaten path for those two.  On the other hand, the only thing running through my mind when they talked about it was “hell yes.”

Similarly, there is a character death toward the end of the volume.  It is sad, and it plays out exactly how every significant death in a shounen manga plays out.  It’s even used as a lesson for a bad guy on one of the last pages, which did make me roll my eyes a little.  But Nora’s reaction to it was truly sad, as was the flashback that we got to see afterwards. I thought it was marginally more successful than similar death scenes, just because Nora is so terribly sad, but that could just be because I’m horribly biased.

Again, I think it’s because the nuts and bolts of the plot and characters are pretty good.  Kazuma is an especially entertaining guy (his response to his role was an even bigger “oh hell yes” from me), but the friendship between Kazuma and Nora, Nora’s treatment by pretty much everyone in the series, the relatively entertaining despite her fanservice factor Dark Liege, and the whole demon world thing… I mean, I wouldn’t call any of it fantastic, but it does have its flashes of brilliance, and it’s pushed all the right buttons for me.

Also, I think it helps that Kazunari Kakei seems especially gifted at choosing the shounen plot devices that work best for him.  Many authors write lame stories that use those as a crutch, but they feel really fresh here despite the fact that I’ve seen them many times before.  I honestly don’t think the story would have been better had it used more intricate and original plot and character development, but again, I like series about demons, and I think I like this one a lot for the “woah, AWESOME” factor, which is admittedly high.  You know what I mean.  It’s why Guts has a big sword, too.

Anyway.  I love it dearly, and it’s one of the series I look forward to the most.

Amusingly, I tried to see what the Japanese covers for the series looked like, but the fact that the series has an entirely English/Roman name meant that a search for it got me this instead.  It lacks the class of the old Loveswept covers and the subtlety of modern romance covers, sadly, but more importantly… is Nora Roberts really big in Japan?  That’s amazing.  I figured cheap romance was something that could be cranked out domestically in any country, it’s strange that the stuff leaves the country.  Then again, maybe Nora Roberts really is fantastic.

This was a review copy provided by Viz.


Nightmare Inspector 6

This!  This was the book I was looking for all those times I jumped randomly into a series!  It was so easy to get into (even with no summary or character profiles in the front), and I really enjoyed how well the simple stories were structured.  Even when some of the short chapters delivered background details on the characters and plot of the overall series, I had absolutely no problems following along.

The story focuses on Hiruko, a Baku, and the customers that come into his shop to be cured of their nightmares.  It follows in the tradition of such series, which include things like Pet Shop of Horrors, XxXholic, and Tarot Cafe.  The chapters are, for the most part, one-shot stories where a customer comes in, Hiruko inspects their dream, solves their problem, and the customer goes on their way and we see the repercussions of the nightmare play out.  They are simple, and they seem short because the structure is such that a lot is going on without being rushed, not a lot of information is crammed in, and Hiruko’s analysis of the nightmares is actually fairly interesting.

The first chapter seems pretty typical.  A girl comes in with a nightmare where she’s in the dark and being held back by a rope.  She can’t move forward even though she wants to, and is afraid to look at what’s holding her back.  Hiruko enters her dream and finds out she is in a circular hallway, and the one holding her back is her brother, who cries out for constant attention and makes the girl feel like she can’t live her life the way she wants to since she’s constantly taking care of him.  After Hiruko tells her she needs to make a decision, she leaves her brother to make her own choices.  Her brother comes to the shop a day or so later asking about his missing sister, and we find out that her choice was actually to commit suicide, and the brother tried to prevent her from doing so by acting sickly so that she would feel like she had a purpose in life.  Apparently the rope represented her first suicide attempt, where she tried to jump in a well but got caught in the ropes.  She made sure to cut them after Hiruko told her about it.

See?  It’s not really cheesy, and the imagery used in the dream and the outcome of the nightmare are always kind of interesting like that.  The stories are short compared to the other series I mentioned, but everything interesting and relevant is there, and nothing is rushed.  It’s extremely well put-together.

There’s a few chapters that deal with the overarching plot of the series, and one or two gag chapters that were surprisingly funny.  Hiruko lives in a Tea Shop with two other people, and another character is introduced later that acts as a rival baku.  The two at the Tea Shop aren’t all that interesting, but the female plays a role when the rival baku drags up Hiruko’s past and what happened to him and the baku that gave him his powers.  Hiruko’s story is an interesting one, and the format takes a form you wouldn’t really expect.

The only person that doesn’t seem to serve a purpose in this volume is the male occupant of the Tea Shop, but I found it hard to begrudge his presence since he’s the one that brings the humor.  In one chapter, he lit Hiruko on fire and seemed more concerned that he’d singed the baku cane than the fact he’d just roasted Hiruko alive.  Hiruko can recover since he’s not a human, but it was quite hilarious to see him wandering around as a singed corpse.

Also, the series hinges on the legend of the baku, a creature that dines on nightmares.  Hiruko is a baku, and he survives by providing a service and eating the nightmares of people that ask for his help.  Baku traditionally cause nightmares in order to dine on, which is what the rival baku does (he makes nightmares worse so that they will be tastier when he eats them).  Sadly, this is a story type that isn’t used very frequently in the manga I read, and the only other times I’ve seen it come up are in Mizuki Hakase’s one-shot short story volume Baku (which wasn’t very good) and in the 2nd Urusei Yatsura movie, Beautiful Dreamer.  Beautiful Dreamer is actually what I think of whenever baku come up, but then again I think about Beautiful Dreamer quite often, it is a wonderful movie.

This series took me very much by surprise.  I’ve had this volume sitting around for some time, and I’m glad I finally picked it up.  The one-shot stories are extremely engaging, the baku theme is an interesting one, and the occasional chapter of plot seems to indicate the story will eventually move in a very, very interesting direction.  While it isn’t absolutely spectacular, it’s probably worth picking up if you want a similar series to Pet Shop of Horrors or the early volumes of XxXholic.  And it’s easy to jump into without reading previous volumes, which is a huge plus.

This was a review copy provided by Viz.


We Were There 4

Wow.  This is like Sand Chronicles if it were about a hundred times sadder and somewhat more realistic.  Sand Chronicles is pretty good about portraying bittersweet moments in adolescence, but there is a lot of suspension of disbelief that goes on in that series, at least for me.  We Were There… I never have to wonder why the characters are doing certain things.  I can see that Yano is kind of a jerk to Nana because he’s selfish, and that Nana sticks with Yano because she loves him and can forgive him that.  Regardless of what happens, they will both be there for each other.  Nana is the one making most of the sacrifices though, since she’s more sensitive to Yano’s feelings than he is of hers.

Of course, there is the specter of Yano’s old girlfriend Nana hanging over the couple.  This is dealt with extremely realistically.  Yano isn’t constantly bringing up Nana-san (the story uses the “san” when talking about the older Nana) as an excuse to act the way he does.  Normally it’s someone else that brings up Nana-san, though you can see how her death what he says and does in Nana-chan’s presence.  It’s not stated explicitly, which I like.  I love it when series trust the reader to draw obvious conclusions.  There’s lots to be said about subtlety, especially in a series like this.

I’m also glad that Yano isn’t a total jerk.  He is somewhat sensitive to Nana-chan’s feelings, and when he acts out, he always apologizes afterwards and says he understands what he did wrong.  He also tells the truth to Nana-chan about something he probably would have been better off hiding.  It hurts her, but he did it in order to be as honest as possible in an effort to make their relationship work on trust.  The way he breaks this little bit of news to Nana is also handled in the most amazingly tasteful way possible, and it really conveys absolutely everything tragic and nice about the act.

More than anything, though, I like how the story goes about portraying the love between Nana-chan and Yano.  They both love each other and nobody else.  This is never questioned.  There is no cheating, and the only real problem with their relationship is Nana-san, who is dead.  The fact that I know Yano loves Nana-chan very much does a lot to make me forgive him when he’s being selfish.

The end of the book… Nana-chan brings up Nana-san and forces Yano to talk about her.  This conversation is exactly why everyone should lay off Yano about Nana-san’s death.  I cried a little about the outcome, and I sincerely hope things will get better next volume.

I know I said a lot of nice things about Sand Chronicles, but this series takes Sand Chronicles and does it better.  Sand Chronicles forces its sandess, whereas this just has the sadness welling off of every page.  I’ve never seen a dramatic series like this one with such well-written characters and emotions.  There is simply nothing as bittersweet as We Were There.


Moon Child 13

Wow.  I didn’t realize this was the last volume.  It did not play out at all like I thought it would.  There were two endings, the nice ending where everything worked out like it should in a shoujo series, and then Jimmy’s dream.  With the message of conservation that the series was built on, it almost seems like Jimmy’s dream was the real end to the series and the nice one was the fairy tale.  If that makes sense.  Comparing the two seems like the book’s final message, like the author asks you to think about which one was actually the dream.  Elements of Jimmy’s dream are genuine historical events and the nice ending was… well, basically only possible because of fairy tale magic, which the entire series was also based on, in a sense, and there is the fact that it was a fictitious story with only the barest hints at reality throughout.  Perhaps I’m reading too much into it, but I liked that both endings were there.  I’ve never seen another series draw to a close like this, and it is a fantastic twist on tradition.

In short, this series was good all the way through.  It’s truly bizarre in a way that very few other series manage to touch, and the mix of fairy tales and history that come true at the very end, the mismatched romances, the gender identity issues, and the environmental messages… all of it was tied together superbly.  I truly wish CMX would publish more by Reiko Shimizu, especially Kaguya Hime.  I don’t think they will, because I suspect Moon Child sold poorly, but there is a solution to this:  BUY MOON CHILD.  It is fantastic.  You won’t regret it.  Forgive it the bizarre racial stereotype for the matriarch of the mermaids.

I’m going to talk about the ending a bit more specifically now, so I’m going to mark it clearly for spoilers.

spoilers…

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I was pretty blown away by the “reality” ending.  It was incredibly harsh.  All three of the Jimmy siblings wind up with dead lovers, and then are simultaneously wiped out since they are all close to the blast.  Pretty much the entire book leads you to believe that the “Jimmy’s Dream” ending was the real one, and I was quite confused when the fairly tale ending started after the Chernobyl blast.  Shonach and Seth’s story was probably the saddest, since they both got what they wanted in the end, and there’s the possibility that Shonach would have survived if Seth had only revealed that he’d turned into Benjamin and was really Seth and not Jimmy.  Shonach’s suicide when he tells Benjamin that Seth was the one he loved was absolutely heartbreaking.

On the flip side, Teruto got what was coming to him.  Poor Rita finally snaps, and she comes back to commit lover’s suicide with Teruto.  Of course she tries to do the right thing by stopping the tests at Chernobyl, but nothing short of Teruto’s verbal command can stop it.  Too bad that she tells him that Seth is in town right before he dies.  This did a good job of keeping the cruel edge to the series all the way to the end.  It’s hard not to like the cruelty that’s offered throughout.

Art kills himself because he can’t bring himself to live with the fact Jimmy has destructive power and that he can’t stop loving her.  This wasn’t really added to in this volume (most of this takes place during the climax of the last volume), but we do get to see the aftermath of Art’s stabbing.  Little Jimmy crying over the death was pretty heartbreaking.

Then… magically, everything is better, everyone got what they wanted, and there is a happy ending with a new generations of mermaids living their life.  I wasn’t all that comfortable with this solution (complete with characters explaining away obvious plotholes, like how Seth and Shonach had a child and that the power of love kept everyone alive), which is why I was delighted when Jimmy began having her dream.


Living for Tomorrow

I reviewed this for the weekly Manga Minis column at Manga Recon, so check out my thoughts there.

This was a new DokiDoki title by Mikiyo Tsuda, and if I’m not mistaken, her first Taishi Zaou work published in English (Taishi Zaou is her yaoi penname).  It’s sort of ironic that it took this long, because I believe she reveals her identity in the back of Day of Revolution, her first work published in English, and I believe her Taishi Zaou work is quite popular.  For good reason, it would seem, because I liked this volume immensely, way more than I normally enjoy her stuff and/or one-shot yaoi.  The humor and jokes work better for yaoi, I guess, or this was just an alignment of all the right things.  It’s no Picasso of manga or anything, but it did make me laugh a few times.


Orange Planet 1

I reviewed the first volume of this new Haruka Fukushima series for Manga Recon, so you can check out the review over there.

Haruka Fukushima is another “it is what it is” artist, and her stories are definitely more for little girls than most of what I read.  Still, she treats the common plot devices well, and I can’t help but like her stories a little, even if I’m not all that interested in them.  Well, except for Kedamono Damono, which is a serious guilty pleasure.


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