Archie’s Double Digest #202

In this “New Look” story, which has come to mean “poorly drawn versions of the Archie characters with turgid dragged-out soap opera plots”, Archie’s still planning to leave Riverdale. I know that won’t happen, so instead, I find myself distracted by Norm Breyfogle’s art, or as I call it, Invasion of the Giraffe People. Has Jughead been drinking Ralph’s Gingold stretching soda? On the next page, Archie and random volunteer recreate Mr. Fantastic’s elastic arms.

The only entertainment I’m getting out of this comes from the name of Archie’s new residence. He’s moving to Martinsville, which in Virginia was my dad’s family’s hometown. I also noticed that all of the ads in this issue, with the exception of the inside and back covers, are for Archie comics — collections, sets, online versions. Has their agreement with DC to share advertising ended? Or is no one much interested in buying print ads, as has happened with magazines?

A short reprint story about researchers trying to understand what teens think about when grocery shopping was amusing, as were some unexpected bits with Archie being stupid. It wasn’t his silliness that was surprising, but the ways in which he screwed up: reading biorhythm charts, TV anchor, teaching girls to box. The unusual choices at least provided some freshness to the plots.

Archie’s Pals ‘n’ Gals Digest #135

Given my dislike of the “New Look”, I was pleasantly surprised that I enjoyed this, the latest story to take that approach. It focuses on Reggie falling in love with a new girl, Bernadette, who’s a hard-working good student and has little tolerance for his pranking antics. Instead, she has more in common with Dilton. A psychology class and Reggie trying out for a national contest to find a stand-up comic, promise additional complications to come.

A focus on Reggie, who’s usually just part of the background, could be interesting, if they delve further into what makes him the way he is and why the others put up with him. The art, by Tod Smith, is better, too, although it was odd to see a more “realistic” version of Principal Weatherbee. Mostly, I liked Bernadette’s focus and how unashamed she was of her abilities, intelligence, and drive to succeed.

Also in this issue are some Sabrina reprints with her in Gravestone Heights, a neighborhood full of monsters, including her new friend Cleara, the invisible girl. (For someone who complains about not being seen, I’d think she’d wear clothes more often. Instead, as the stories continue, she adds a hair bow, lipstick, earrings, and a t-shirt. That’s all, which leads the reader in some odd directions if you stop and think about it.) Sabrina’s been glammed up with miniskirts, big earrings, boots, and cleavage, so these stories must date from the 80s.

Even weirder is Eye-da, a normal girl except that she has, instead of a head, a giant eyeball. I’d like to see more of these stories — I’m unfamiliar with them or their history, but I like the idea of gently weird teens hanging out together.

Betty & Veronica Double Digest #174

Wanna see the Archie gang as furries? Check out “Is This Place a Zoo?”, a reprint story included here. Betty and Veronica start discussing what kind of animal they’d be, and as they envision various creatures, the drawings reflect their ideas. So Veronica becomes a gazelle wearing a hat or a leopard lady in a bikini. Strangely, when the girls change, their heads are included, but when Archie talks about being a gorilla, it’s his normal head on an ape body. It ends with Betty and Veronica in a cat fight, sigh. What fetish material this is.

Archie Digest #258

This small collection, full of holiday stories, would make a lovely stocking stuffer. Veronica learns to be considerate and not show off her wealth in a time of economic struggle. Archie finds pleasure as well as frustrations in playing Santa. Then he gives his dad an unexpected gift. My favorite, though, was the one where Betty and Veronica learned not to get into the spirit too early, as everyone went crazy with holiday cheer at school. I’m all for the “meaning of the season”, but it’s also nice to be reminded not to go overboard.

Also in this issue are a couple of Sabrina Christmas stories. That sounds like it would be an odd match, but it works surprisingly well, as she uses her powers to help out Santa and values working for money to shop over zapping things up. There’s a preview online.

(The publisher provided review copies.)

I was thrilled to discover that Disney had made available Condorman on DVD. I got mine by cashing in Disney Movie Rewards points, or apparently you can get it through their Disney Movie Club (a subscription service).

I have fond memories of this 1981 goofy superhero/spy spoof. It starts Michael Crawford, who went on to greater fame as the original musical Phantom of the Opera, and Oliver Reed as the Russian baddy. Crawford is Woody Wilkins, a comic artist and writer who insists on trying out the gadgets of his hero, Condorman, before drawing them, so they’ll be realistic. So the film begins with his jumping off the Eiffel Tower wearing hang glider-like wings, for example.

Who is Condorman?

Well, uh, Condorman is what we call a comic hero, in a comic book.

A comic book?

Yeah, you know like Donald Duck, Popeye, Superman.

Crawford’s character a flake, albeit a talented artist, but thanks to his propensity for dress-up, he still winds up helping a gorgeous Russian spy (Barbara Carrera) defect with the help of his CIA buddy (James Hampton). After they meet, he starts drawing her into his comic book as “Laser Lady”, and the CIA funds building more of his gadgets, including a really cool Condorcar that becomes a hovercraft.

The movie is full of outrageous international events, slapstick, family-friendly romance, and bad special effects, but I liked the concept and still enjoy the film, nostalgically. It’s like James Bond for kids, with comics added. Anyone else remember this?

It’s that weird time of year when there’s no time to enjoy Halloween comics before the Christmas ones start appearing. Before that, then, there’s

Archie & Friends #135

It’s a familiar story, best known to me from the Halloween episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but told with good cheer. Archie and his friends visit a new costume shop, where they become whatever they wear.

Now, there are several ways I thought this could have been improved:

• More modern costumes. I have a hard time believing all of these kids would pick the standard monsters — vampire, witch, wolfman, mummy — over something more up-to-date. But this does give the tale a timeless feel.
• More creativity. Both of the girls are witches? They couldn’t think of something different for one of them?
• I’d have liked to have seen the existing Archie witch characters instead of this new, undeveloped, magic-using villain.
• In fact, why isn’t friend Sabrina in this title at all? Goodness knows she’s not being used elsewhere.

But overall, it’s a nice bit of light entertainment for the holiday. Each character gets a gag based on their costume interacting with their personality. (Except for Reggie, whose fish-man appearance seems to have no affect at all on him.) The last-page punchline was the best part of the story — unexpected, suitable for the character, well-chosen for the premise, and funny, especially given the young audience. There’s a preview online.

Archie #602

And here we are at Christmas. It’s the conclusion of the imaginary story where Archie and Veronica marry — next issue, he’ll be marrying Betty. For some reason, they’ve been rushing through events in order to get to this point: Archie and Veronica have kids, which allows the heartwarming cover. It’s as though they think people aren’t really married until they’ve started spawning.

Like everything else in this storyline, the way they get there is predictable and boring. If you have ever seen a sitcom episode with a harried husband falling all over himself as he becomes a dad, you’ve gotten more entertainment than is on display here. There’s disrupting the Lamaze class, Veronica overeating, forgetting the wife in a panic when labor starts… Yawn. Some of the cartooning is bad as well: there’s a one-page sequence that’s meant to be physical comedy, but the artist didn’t bother to establish the physical layout of the room, so the events are hard for the reader to follow. The punchline, a broken cellphone, doesn’t go anywhere, so all in all, it’s just a puzzle.

That wasn’t the only bit that left me very confused as to why it was included. Mr. Lodge gets a Citizen Kane sled reference. We check in with Betty, who’s single, out of a job, can’t find a guy, and has no money, but none of that is followed up. None of her friends offer to help — instead, her sole function in the story is to be happy for Veronica’s pregnancy and miserable on her own.

Plenty of cliches, and nothing particular to these characters. This story could have been told with any set of young marrieds, and it probably would have seemed more original that way. What a waste of all this publicity. There’s a preview online.

Betty #182

Who’s proofreading these things? Page 1, first caption: “Dear Dairy”. She’s talking to cows now? Yet it’s right on her computer screen in the picture.

The story itself is about going back to school — first the worries, then shopping problems, wearing the same outfit as Veronica, tough teachers… It’s all rather generic, and much of it seems written more from a parent’s perspective than Betty’s. Overall, it’s a lot of griping. Perhaps the younger audience will better appreciate this sharing of their concerns than I did.

Jughead #197

The last story in this issue tickled me. Jughead shows up wearing a superhero outfit — baggy tights, goggles, cape. When questioned about it, he tells Archie that it’s laundry day and everything else was in the wash, which leads to this exchange:

Archie: And you just happened to have a superhero costume in your closet?
Jughead: Doesn’t everyone?

It’s a nice indicator of Jughead’s character done right: a true individual who doesn’t mind what others think when he’s confident in what he’s doing. The rest of the story illustrates everyday heroism and responsibility. It’s a cute little tale.

Veronica’s Passport

Veronica’s Passport
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This slim collection ($9.95 US, 96 pages) reprints four stories where Veronica travels to exotic locations: New York, Paris, Rome, and India. Bravo to the publisher for including credits! All these tales are illustrated by Dan Parent, but the writers vary: Hal Smith, mainstay George Gladir, Kathleen Webb, and Chris Allan and Mark Waid, of all people. I might have guessed the latter, since in the Rome story, Veronica’s roommate’s name is “Nasthalthia”, a name I’ve only heard before used as the moniker of Lex Luthor’s niece in the Supergirl stories beginning in Adventure #397.

The stories were originally run in Veronica in the late 80s, which is apparent if you pay close attention to the fashions and hairstyles. But the point is to feel like you’re visiting these cities yourself, with lots of time spent on listing tourist landmarks in each location. The plots — Veronica becomes a sculptor or catches a jewel thief or goes to school overseas — are just excuses to keep things moving fast. They’re fun, and it’s a nice way to feel like you’re traveling the world as a princess. It’s a great use of the character who too often writers don’t know what to do with.

(The publisher provided review copies.)

by Ben Towle

Comics Worth Reading is happy to feature a two-part guest column by the talented Ben Towle, author of Midnight Sun and Farewell, Georgia. Part two will run shortly, as will additional coverage of this event by Ed Sizemore.

If you’re a cartoonist and you hear that Robert Crumb will be making a rare stateside appearance a few short hours drive from your hometown, you don’t ask “How much?” you just get thee to Ticketmaster.com as quickly as possible and buy tickets. And that’s exactly what I did a few weeks back when (after a Bob Clampett-style double take) I saw this very announcement posted online. R. Crumb, godfather of underground comics (and more circuitously, pretty much everything else you’ve read since the late sixties that doesn’t involve guys in tights fighting crime) would be appearing along with Françoise Mouly at Richmond’s Carpenter Center to discuss his most recent book, a fully illustrated version of Genesis, based largely on Robert Alter’s 2004 translation.

If you’re interested in comics, you already know who Robert Crumb is. Françoise Mouly, who would be interviewing him at this event, might not have the same name recognition as her more controversial subject, but her contribution to the world of comics is substantial. Jeet Heer does a far better job singing her praises that I could in this essay, in which he asks (rhetorically), “Is there anyone in the cartooning world who is more underrated than Françoise Mouly?” Mouly’s career, just to touch on a few points, involves publishing the highly influential RAW anthology series; founding the RAW Junior, Little Lit, and TOON Books imprints; and serving as the art editor for The New Yorker for over fifteen years. Together, after a brief introduction, these two giants of comics took the stage at the Carpenter Center on a rainy Tuesday night to discuss Genesis and all things Crumb.

The Venue

The Carpenter Center is a peculiar venue. It’s apparently been recently restored at some expense to the city, and as such is a matter of contention among Richmond folk, according to fellow cartoonist and Richmond local Rob Ullman, with whom I attended the event. Unlike the staid “plaster and gold leaf” of most restored downtown theaters I’ve been in, the Carpenter Center’s interior was a mix of ornate medieval flourishes and an odd super-saturated color scheme. I half-expected to be served a turkey leg whilst observing a reenacted joust. The stage setup itself, once the lights went down, revealed itself to be quite tasteful, though: two wing-back chairs at center stage, with a large screen directly behind for projecting images of Crumb’s work. Photography was strictly forbidden in the theater, so unfortunately I don’t have any pictures of the event to share. Here, though, is a picture of my dog dressed as Robert Crumb. Just pretend she’s on a stage next to the art director of The New Yorker:

When I say Crumb “took the stage” I could more accurately say “hit the stage,” as he made his entrance with a perfectly-executed pratfall — a trick he’s apparently been working on of late. Crumb is not someone who’s known to be particularly interested in interviews, book tours, etc. so there was certainly some discussion before-hand as to how engaged he might be in the discussion to come. He addressed this head-on, semi-sarcastically remarking, “It’s an ordeal, but I’m a nice guy! It’ll help sell books….” Françoise began by suggesting that she’d be attempting, through the interview, to disabuse the audience of what she feels are some inaccurate perceptions that people generally have about R. Crumb: “People think they know you.” Largely responsible for most comics-folk’s perception of Crumb is of course, Terry Zwigoff’s 1994 documentary, Crumb.

Life in France

Mouly showed a New Yorker two-pager that Robert and his wife Aline had produced together, commenting on their reactions to the film. In the strip, Robert is seen throwing his signature straw boater away. After the film, he said, “I wanted to change into somebody else.” Boater or no boater, though, “I can’t change who I really am,” he decided. Fortunately, the Crumbs had already moved to the French countryside by the time the film was released, he said, as things would have no doubt been really difficult for daughter Sophie at school if they’d been in the U.S. at the time.

The topic of the Crumbs’ move to France now in the air, he mentioned, at Françoise’s questioning, that the move was initially entirely Aline’s idea and that he’d been afraid of losing touch with his favorite subject matter: skewering modern life in the U.S. “I wouldn’t presume to comment on the French,” he said, “So I do stuff like the Bible. I feel protected (in France). It’s like a fortress. They leave me alone.” His further comment that he, “hate(s) Americans much more than he hates the French” elicited a predictable round of hearty applause from the audience composed in substantial part by university students and faculty. Amidst this discussion of things French, Robert casually mentioned that he was a new grandfather (!) and that Sophie, at age 28, had just given birth to her first child. Congratulations, Sophie! Get that baby a Rapidograph ASAP.

Crumb on Women

Mouly then began showing some Crumb drawings and comics about women, nudging the conversation into a more contentious area. The first illustration was a truly beautiful pen and ink drawing of tennis player Serena Williams. If you know the kind of women Crumb likes to draw and you’re familiar with Williams’s physique, it’s no surprise that she is is one of his chosen subjects. “She’s really it,” he remarked. “She’s really got it!” The next image was an older two-pager showing a woman masturbating in her apartment. In a pattern that would emerge more than once during the evening’s discussion, Françoise attempted to take the high road and engage Crumb in a discussion of how this piece really reveals a “sensitivity” toward women. Crumb: “I had no idea. It’s a fantasy!”

Next on the screen was Crumb’s two-pager, “Don’t Touch Me” (from Snatch #3) which depicts an apparent rape, followed by the “punch line” in the last panel: “I never get to come!” In a rare bit of almost-regret (maybe? almost?), Crumb recalled showing this strip to a woman he knew and being genuinely surprised by her horrified reaction. Mouly wondered though if it wasn’t his intention to shock. “I intend to shock–but I don’t want them to run away in horror!” he replied. The discomfort in the room became almost palpable when he glibly remarked about “all women having rape fantasies, right?” and mentioned that “even Freud said all women were masochistic.” Then, after a moment, “Let’s move on…”

No escape was in sight, though, as the next strip up for discussion was Crumb’s infamous, “The Family that Lays Together Stays Together.” Crumb, though, did a deft job of cutting this one off at the pass: “It’s ironic, kids! I don’t advocate dogs having sex with little girls.”

At this point, Françoise moved on to other topics and tried to draw a connection between Crumb’s “A Short History of America” strip and post-modern architectural interest in “indigenous signage.” Crumb seemed lukewarm at best to this comparison, and her following attempt to draw a direct connection between Crumb’s work and the later work of Saul Steinberg likewise elicited basically an “I don’t really see it” from Crumb.

Up next, in part two: Music and Genesis

Review by Ed Sizemore

Crumb doesn’t follow any organized religion; in fact, he might be an atheist. In the introduction, he tells us that he doesn’t believe that the Bible is the Word of God, or even inspired by God. Yet he strove to produce the most straightforward, faithful-to-the-text, illustrated version of Genesis. And succeeded. Every word found in the Biblical text is included in Crumb’s version. Further, Crumb didn’t make up additional dialogue or narrative scenes. What you get is the Biblical text and nothing but the Biblical text.

The Book of Genesis
Illustrated by R. Crumb
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Let’s talk briefly about the translation of Genesis used. The majority of the text comes from Robert Alter’s translation, but Crumb did edit and revise the translation where he thought he could make it read more smoothly. For some revisions, he used the King James version of Genesis, and some wording is original to Crumb himself. What we have is a perfectly fine translation. There are no major alterations or radical word changes. Crumb stays as faithful to the original text as any other editor.

Now on to the part everyone is really interested in, the artwork. Here I think I might disappoint some people: I wasn’t shocked or scandalized by what I found in Crumb’s drawings. I’m very familiar with the Biblical text and familiar enough with Crumb’s work to know what I could expect before I opened the book. I knew that Adam and Eve walked around the garden naked in chapter 3. I knew that Crumb was going to draw them both in all their glory. And he did. There are no low-hanging branches, no hiding behind bushes, and no conventionally placed hands and arms. I’m well aware that in chapter 19, Lot gets drunk and has sex with his daughters. Sure enough, Crumb draws the incestuous copulations. The couple isn’t making love under the blankets, there are no well-placed shadows, and no use of shadows on the wall. You see what they’re doing in full detail.

Crumb’s lack of modesty and decorum is certain to upset conservative Christians, Jews, and Muslims. But the cover comes with “Adult Supervision Recommended for Minors” and “The First Book of the Bible Graphically Depicted! NOTHING LEFT OUT!” advisories. So even if a reader is unfamiliar with who R. Crumb is, they can’t say they weren’t amply warned. Let’s be honest, Christian bookstores won’t be stocking this next to other illustrated versions of the Bible; they won’t be stocking this at all.

Other people who might be scandalized are people unfamiliar with the Biblical text. Genesis is the story of God’s relationship with fallen humanity. Adam’s son, Cain, commits the first murder. Noah gets drunk and passes out naked. Abraham is so scared of Pharaoh that he lets Pharaoh marry his wife with any word of protest. We’ve already mentioned Lot’s incest. Laban and Jacob are competing con artists. And Jacob’s sons sell one of their own, Joseph, into slavery because they’re jealous of all the attention he gets. It’s all there in the text, humanity at its best and its worst. Heroes of faith with fears, doubts, and flaws just like the rest of us.

There are several things I like about Crumb’s version. First, he makes the genealogy passage of chapter 11 an enjoyable read. This is something Francoise Mouly brought out in her discussion of the book with Crumb. He does it simply and effectively. While the text is telling us who begat whom, Crumb shows us scenes of daily life around 3,000 BC. This really brings to life the names being listed. It also brings out the passage of time. As we look at grandparents cuddling grandchildren, villages making sacrifices to gods, and couples dancing, the passing centuries become more tangible. We understand that the lives of generations of people, much like ours, is quickly passing by. Crumb brought poignancy to the passage for me.

Second, Crumb does a great job creating a believable bronze age world. This isn’t Cecil B. DeMille’s sparkling clean, perfectly groomed vision of the Bible. The people in Crumb’s version sweat, get dirty, have disheveled hair, etc. They aren’t always the most attractive people. They all don’t get old gracefully and with dignity. This is a world of body odor, dusty trails, hard labor, animal smells, blazing hot days, freezing nights, etc. It’s a world where the most advanced technology is the wheel, the sword, pulleys, and carving tools. You understand how difficult life was for the people in those times. It’s amazing to think of the cities and monuments they built with just the muscle of men and beasts.

Third, the attention to detail helps makes some passages easier to understand. The best example is in the Joseph saga (chapters 37 and 39 thru 50). Just reading the text, you wonder why Joseph’s brothers don’t recognize him when they meet him in Egypt. Crumb shows you how radically different Joseph looked from the last time they saw him. When his brothers see him in Egypt, he looks just like any other Egyptian high official. He is not only wearing Egyptian clothes, but he is clean-shaven, has an Egyptian hair style, and has Egyptian mannerisms. There is nothing about him to suggest he was ever the son of a nomadic shepherd. Here, Crumb’s illustrations function like a commentary to make explicit what is hidden in the text.

There are a couple of charming idiosyncrasies to Crumb’s choices. First, Crumb uses the stereotypical Western depiction of God. I’m reminded of how men like Michelangelo, William Blake, and Albercht Durer painted or drew Him. God has powerful features and long, flowing white hair and beard. Most people will find the image instantly recognizable. Second, Crumb makes most of the important women of Genesis look like his wife, Aline. Eve, Sarah, and Rachel all look alike. It’s a touching demonstration of how much he loves his wife but makes for some odd reading.

Beyond any doubt, Crumb is an incredibly skilled draftsmen. The pen work in this book is marvelous. You could use this book to illustrate figure drawing, what perfect cross-hatching looks like, and how to pay attention to the smallest details. There are no shortcuts taken in this book. Each panel is meticulously drawn. Foreground and background characters are fully rendered. Thinking about the time and energy it would take to do just one panel makes you appreciate the immerse labor it took to complete the entire book.

I’m not sure who the audience for this book would be. Mouly mentioned this was the first time she had actually read the book of Genesis, so I’m thankful to Crumb for making this Biblical book accessible to a new audience. Certainly, Crumb’s current fans will enjoy this work.

I actually would like all Christians to read the book, because of how real and human it makes the great heroes of faith. They worked hard, got tired, made mistakes, made love, got old, and died just like everyone else. They weren’t insulated from the harsh realities of this world. And in the midst of daily living, they developed a lasting relationship with God that formed the foundation of our own faith today. Crumb’s faithfulness to the text is able to flesh out the daily ordinary live of the patriarchs without diminishing the extraordinary nature of their faith. Honestly, and perhaps ironically, I don’t think anyone else could have accomplished that incredible feat.

Crumb’s Genesis is truly a remarkable book. I’d like everyone to experience a chapter or two of book so they could judge for themselves if the book is appropriate for them. Like Genesis itself, this book is a mix of the sacred and the profane. Not everyone will find that to their liking. However, I sincerely believe it’s worth the effort to read the book, at least once.

NPR posted the first five pages of the book, while Boing Boing has chapter 19, the story of Lot and his daughters in Sodom, as well as a video flip-through.

(The publisher provided a review copy.)

At this point, I’m reading this series out of nostalgia, since it’s the oldest manga series I’m collecting that’s still running. It started in 2003, when the first three books came out, with book 4 following four years later, and then after another two years, here we are.

INVU Book 5
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Goodness knows that the story isn’t worth six years of patience. The events are stereotypical soap opera, and the characters are types instead of three-dimensional. There’s the good girl who can’t cope with her crush on a more experienced boy, the troubled beauty in love with her teacher, and the wannabe model whose father bans her from his house for keeping her tryout a secret. Everyone “talks” in screaming matches or passionately dramatic declarations.

The art can be ridiculously exaggerated, and not in a reasonable way. Instead, perspective is off, so characters grow a foot among panels on a page or their head is too small for a too-long torso or their extended limbs would look better on a giraffe. The adaptation text is clunky as well, whether it’s bad grammar (”I had no idea it was one of your customer’s clothes!”) or just flat to the ear (”I was going to break the news like that!”).

So why am I still reading it? Well, at this point, why not? Between the two pages of story and character information and the familiarity of the plots, it’s easy enough to keep up with the series, even with the extensive delays between volumes. And it’s a relatively cheap fix, with only one book every few years.

Of more substance, I have a fondness for Hali and Hajun. She models as a way of escaping her mixed-up home life, where she has to pretend to be her dead brother in order to prevent her mother from going insane. (In this installment, that subterfuge quits working.) She’s good at it because most of her life has been spent pretending to be someone else.

She clings to her teacher as someone who cares for her as herself, and their feelings for each other still seem realer than anything else in the book. He knows something about her situation, since his family gave him away to be adopted by an important political figure. The obstacle between them, their age difference and his responsibility for her, will be taken care of relatively quickly just by waiting for her to graduate. They’re already ready for each other, unlike the other pairings, who are emotionally immature.

I also like Jae Eun, the fannish young lady who cosplays and draws yaoi, even though her conflicts are similar to those in Genshiken, where they’re more developed. I’d like to see more of her story, even though I know she’s comic relief, which is why the others take up much more space. She and her baker crush seem to have the best chance of actually succeeding together … but I think a later revelation may affect that.

(The publisher provided a review copy. INVU 5 will be released on November 3.)

When I started this series, I read an awful lot into the first volume. Based on what I saw, I was expecting a dramatic exploration of the contrasts between appearance and behavior as twins were set in opposition to each other, layered over with the message of optimistic struggle making a dream come true.

Papillon Book 4
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So when I read the second book, I was shocked to find that it went in a radically different direction, with a very different kind of drama: the kind you get with over-the-top soap opera and outrageous plot twists. Once it sunk in that I needed to reset my expectations, I could begin enjoying the way this story goes gloriously off the rails.

I mean, the first major piece of art in this book is a drawing of a girl kissing herself romantically with her eyes closed. Is one of the twins leaning into a mirror, thinking of her boyfriend? Or are the two sisters teasing at a closeness that will intrigue a certain group of readers? It doesn’t matter, because the situation in the story has little to do with the intriguing image. Instead, one of the twins is playing pretend with the other’s boyfriend, testing his fidelity with mind games. That’s the pattern of this series, continuing cycles of doubt and reassurance as girls worry about their boyfriends’ loyalty.

The reader is tricked, the character relationships are continually complicated, and no one should think too hard about any of this. If you did, you might notice that the advice given to one lovestruck girl boils down to “if you liked him enough to want to date him, you should be happy with that and not dare to ask him to change in any way.” Instead, she should change herself to better match him.

That’s not the only creepy thing: The core relationship is a romance between a student and her guidance counselor, a man who’s attracted to her, among other reasons, because she’s a virgin. (Assuming you can trust his statements. I’m never sure any more with any of these characters if they’re being honest about what they think or even who they are.)

Everyone here just wants to be happy. The complications come in the twisted things they do to get there. Another example of only-in-fiction exaggeration is the plot device that sets up the twists in the second half of the book, driven by a girl who can smell when someone’s had sex. This starts out being barely plausible but quickly turns into another way to make characters believe others are cheating. Everyone’s miserable until an even more ridiculous hand-wave resets things… before the next authorial device to mess with these fictional lives comes along.

Most of the time, I prefer more depth and emotional realism in my schoolgirl shojo soap opera, but that’s asking more of this series than it wants to provide. As emotion-plucking entertainment populated by pretty people, that encourages you to feel, not think, it’s popcorn. But sometimes, that’s what you’re in the mood for.

(The publisher provided a review copy.)

Review by Ed Sizemore

Nana is a normal human girl who is friends with Majoko, a witch of the same age from the Land of Magic. A magic diary serves as the portal between the two worlds. The girls have lots of adventures together in the Land of Magic. This volume opens with the conclusion to the cliffhanger from volume 1. Further adventures in this book include helping an old clay pot find a beloved owner, attending the Snowman Festival, searching for the runaway Mirror Fairy in the Land of Mirrors, and a visit to the Land of Toys. All of the chapters but the first are self-contained stories.

The Big Adventures of Majoko Book 2
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This second volume is just as delightful as the first. Majoko continues to be impulsive and overly confident. The authors are careful to make her a likeable character by showing how her faults come from youthfulness. I love that she understands how special and unusual the Land of Magic is and is filled with enthusiasm and curiosity. I do worry that Majoko seems to be have a very slow learning curve. I’m hoping as the series continues that she will begin to mature. Perhaps some of Nana’s own maturity will rub off on Majoko.

There were two chapters I found particularly heartwarming. The first is when Majoko and Nana help an old piece of magical pottery find an owner he got separated from years ago. The years have not been kind to the pot. Yet, when he is reunited with his old owner, she immediately welcomes him and showers him with affection regardless of his appearance. It’s a wonderful lesson on the true worth of each person.

The second chapter I found moving is when Nana’s mother accidently throws out her favorite doll, Katie. Nana and Majoko travel to the Land of Toys to find the doll. They find out how bitter abandoned and abused toys feel. They also discover the power of love. Katie is able to use all the love Nana has given her over the years to reform one of the abandoned toys, making him happy and emotionally whole. It’s a touching lesson on treating our possessions with respect.

The page layouts are simple and easy for young readers to follow. The drawings are a little simpler than the standard manga, but they don’t lack details. There is lots of energy to the artwork to keep young readers engaged in the book. One nice extra with this book is a two-page guide on how to read unflipped manga. Not just how to read a page, but even how to read the balloons within a panel. I really like having this in the book, so it’s right there if young readers get confused.

Udon does make one small misstep. The inside back cover tells readers, “For more cool stuff, games, and free previews, visit MangaforKids.com.” However, the only thing currently on the website is free previews. I hope they correct this soon. I hate for them to disappoint young, excited readers who are looking for ways to have more fun with the books and characters.

I still think The Big Adventures of Majoko is a great series for both sexes, though I realize that boys are much less likely to read a series with two girl protagonists. The stories are short and quick-paced. There is plenty of humor to keep things entertaining and from getting too serious. It’s a great series for introducing kids to manga. Parents will enjoy the books, too. I’m glad to see Udon continue it’s commitment to quality manga for younger readers.

(The publisher provided a review copy.)