[...] Man and Japan as Viewed by 17 Creators. They’ve also put out some books that they call “nouvelle manga“, which seems to be shorthand for “comics made by Frenchmen who like manga and Japanese [...]

In this book, the majority of the development of the main character is through his inaction. He stands frozen more often than he reacts, both physically and emotionally. The focus of the book matches the internal turmoil of the main character; it’s all about him. That’s why, while I would normally be turned off by the half-filled sketch that is Yukiko’s character, here it fits the main theme of the book perfectly.

The protagonist and Yukiko may not share the emotion of love. The protagonist mostly has obsession, a one-sided emotion, and in the back of his mind he “knows” that it can never be more. The disconnect between his obessive fantasy and this loveless “reality” is what paralyzes him, causes him to look past the current joy into a future of despair, steeling himself for a hurt that he knows will come.

In the end, the protagonist is a victim of his own self-fulfilling prophecy; he “knows” there is no love in “reality,” but does there really have to be no love, or is he just cutting love off as a self-protective measure before it can blossom? It sure doesn’t look like these two are compatible in anything but passion, but is he even trying to explore that road?

The tangle of what he thinks will happen, what is actually happening, and what he fantasizes of is the heart of this book. Only during sex do these 3 paths cross to his satisfaction, the rest is too complicated for him to bear, and he locks up, watching his self-fulfilled disappointment come to pass.

In my opinion, this book is one of the best depictions of emotional immaturity that I have ever read. The protagonist is unlikeable, I agree, but I can certainly relate to his struggle, and the emotional impact of the story is strong.

As for how the story is told, through montages and sketches, I think that this approach further reinforces the viewpoint of the protagonist. In his head, he’s emphasizing tangled feelings over real events, and accordingly the book provides with more emotionally-laden imagery and less linear plot. As you say, his perspective is askew, he should be enjoying their time together, but he’s not, and the storytelling relects this. He’s not dealing with (or doesn’t know how to deal with) his emotions, so they overtake him and blur out reality.

If you don’t care for the book because you can’t get into (or you dislike) the main character, that’s understandable. For that reason, for instance, I can’t stand to watch (the supposedly classic movie) “The Graduate” for the reprehensible protagonist that I can’t relate to at all.

But I couldn’t resist defending one of the most well-crafted, beautiful, and emotional books that I have read in the past couple of years.