Here are my thoughts on the latest volumes of a bunch of favorite Viz Manga titles.

Bakuman Book 7

Bakuman Book 7

story by Tsugumi Ohba, art by Takeshi Obata, $9.99, out now

This series demonstrates the virtue of sticking with a story that shows promise, since it’s gone from an intriguing premise with some serious problems to one of my most-anticipated manga reads. It’s just so involving, with its struggling protagonists and their goal of becoming successful manga-ka.

Of course, purporting to show the behind-the-scenes of making manga is catnip to manga readers. Many comic readers have dreamed of making their own, and this allows them to live that life vicariously. It’s impressive that it’s so dramatic and emotion-packed, but when you think about these kids, putting out serialized chapters and graphic novels while still in high school, that’s a setup fraught with possibility. Heck, one of them has already risked his life to make their business successful, even though the sacrifice doesn’t turn out as they expected.

The guys are struggling to find a new manga concept that will be successful while clashing with a sometimes-oblivious new editor more concerned about his future with the company than what’s best for them. They’re no longer convinced that he knows what they need or is skilled as an editor, so they challenge him while seeking their own path. At the same time, they’re working to get into college, so they can then coast for a few more years while making comics.

I’m impressed by how dense this feels because of all the text. I’m more story-driven than art-driven in my reading, so I enjoy how much conversation goes on, between the characters debating their choices and laying out rules for making manga. Don’t get me wrong, the visuals are extremely impressive in how exciting they make everyday life. The artist is even paid a compliment early on when the creators are talking about how “the best manga artist is one who can draw ordinary everyday life in an interesting way.”

I also adore the goofy Eiji Nizuma, the young competitor who’s already hit his success. He’s asked to judge a manga contest by the editors, and his exaggerated focus on exactly what he likes is great. There’s a lot of discussion about gag manga, what they need, and how a kid audience reacts to them, which gave me plenty of background on a genre I previously wasn’t all that familiar with.

Cross Game Book 5

Cross Game Book 5

by Mitsuru Adachi, $14.99, out October 11

Speaking of shonen manga favorites, here’s the latest issue of this sports competition story. This double-length volume (printed as books 10 and 11 in Japan) shows Ko and his team in a regional tournament.

I’m very impressed by the artwork — the closeups on player’s expressions, the skewed panels during key action sequences, the isolated elements of an action from player to stance to ball to swing to result — but I admit, having read the previous volume over the summer, I didn’t recall details on who any of the players were. I recommend reading the series in large chunks to keep the drama high and the cast straight.

This is a book for those willing to wallow in the details of the game — sometimes, I’d rather just know who wins and then get back to the character development. That’s why Viz double-sizes these books, I think. Here, the entire first half of the book is all one game. If released at traditional size, it’d take much too long for the American patience to move events along. But as it is, the second half provides the characterization I was looking for, as the cast deals with the playoff’s outcome.

There are some new developments as well. A noodle shop is moving in, and the daughter resembles what Wakaba would have looked like if she’d lived to that age. (Subtle comment on the expectations of appearance for girls of a certain age, or just a storytelling shortcut?) When the summer festival takes place (which coincides with the anniversary of Wakaba’s passing), the new girl’s looks cause quite the reaction among her neighbors.

This event demonstrates one of Adachi’s best tactics. He doesn’t have the characters tell the reader what they’re thinking; instead, he juxtaposes panels in such a way that it’s clear to us what’s going on. We’re smarter than they are, which gives us an investment in seeing them realize what we already understand. (Although at times, I do wish that everyone wasn’t quite so clueless about Ko and Aoba ending up together, since it can feel like it’s being dragged out just to fill out the series.)

My favorite sequence is a wordless two-pager where the pet cat, chasing a fly, bounces around the house. It’s funny but also meaningful in its symbolism. Plus, the cat is adorable.

The Story of Saiunkoku Book 5

The Story of Saiunkoku Book 5

art by Kairi Yura, story by Sai Yukino, $9.99, out November 1

Switching gears, if I’m to wallow in character detail, I’d much rather do so in this historical shojo. For some reason, I can keep the various pretty boys here separate much more easily than I can the baseball teammates, probably because the guys here don’t all dress alike.

The normally sturdy Shurei has caught a cold, and everyone’s falling over themselves to help her recover. That means plenty of men assembled to help look for a missing child, conveniently, while the Emperor pines over the sleeping, ailing Shurei.

She’s got to get better so she can take the Imperial Civil Exam. A lot is riding on her — beyond her life-long dreams of becoming a civil servant, she’s also the first woman to be allowed to take the exam, and her performance has the potential to change expectations for her entire society. Of course, she’s more fixated on others than herself, so it isn’t a surprise when she takes a boy, come to the city to take the exam, under her wing. The boy, however, has his own surprises, including a kind of multiple personality.

The story can be jumpy and often we’re told more than we’re shown, but I enjoy the wackiness of everything moving so quickly. Somehow, this book includes gangsters, a spoiled rich kid with a crush on Shurei, and the city’s most well-known courtesan, all who come together in a bizarre mob-style showdown. (And several of whom have known Shurei for years, although we’ve never heard of them before.) This book does change genres quickly. Much like the weather in certain areas, if you don’t like a chapter, just wait a bit, and you’ll have something different soon. I do think I’m ready for her to get back with the Emperor soon, though, because I love their fumbling romance, as we’re reminded in the side story included in this volume.

Kingyo Used Books Book 4

Kingyo Used Books Book 4

by Seimu Yoshizaki, $12.99, out October 18

Stepping into the pages of this manga bookstore and meeting several of their varied customers is always relaxing. It’s nice to spend time, even if fictional, with those who share my interests in manga, even if they’re reading books I’ve never heard of before.

My favorite is the first chapter, about a tutor trying to help his student, a boy who claims he doesn’t like manga because he hasn’t yet found the right one for him. Really, he’s putting on an attitude of being uncaring because his ability to make his own choices hasn’t been respected. I wish this story had gone on longer, because I felt like there were connections still to be made. I also wanted to know more about the speech one of the booksellers makes, about the virtues of horror manga, since I don’t care for that genre myself. I got just a glimpse of what its appeal could be, but there seemed more to be said.

Yoshizaki sketches her characters economically, but with enough hints that you can understand the personalities and what they’re looking for quickly. Sometimes the manga is almost incidental, as mention of a title shared between two old men remembering their protestor days in the 60s, or sometimes it’s essential, as with the story of a guy with a crush on a girl who loves manga. Their shared enjoyment of Ranma ½ is adorable, especially when he geeks out and buys the whole series.

The followup chapter explores another area of fandom, as a stereotypical geek sounds off at the handsome men at the bookstore. He needs his hobby to give him purpose, and having them “invade” when they already have so much else going for them makes him jealous. He shows up again later as an amateur investigator, helping a kid stop an arsonist attacking used book stores. That was a fun story, and it reminded me of one of the things I like about Yoshizaki’s art — how well she draws people discovering a moment of happiness or peacefulness. In this case, it’s both, as a stressed kid enjoys a manga (by Moto Hagio) that relaxes him enough that he drifts off into a nap.

I was astounded to be reminded of the age of manga in the last chapter. I think of it as dating back to the 80s, when it first came to the U.S., or to the 60s, when thinking about some of Vertical’s Tezuka reprints, but one story here involves manga first released in the 20s and 30s, which makes it older than superhero comics. (I know, I should know that, but it didn’t really sink home until now.) The message of that story, about how manga can follow and support people throughout their lives, is something we only dream of for American comics. We’re closer, but there’s still a way to go.

20th Century Boys Book 17

20th Century Boys Book 17

by Naoki Urasawa, $12.99, out October 11

I’m finding this series really frustrating lately, as I want to know more about what happens next, and Urasawa is instead giving us flashbacks. Except they’re too skilled to be called that, really, as he draws portraits of life under plague. Families are split apart by death and villainy while survivors suffer in concentration camps. Urasawa is clearly building an epic, and there are still plenty of volumes to go, but I miss the core cast and I’m ready for the last big showdown.

Here, we get some new kid characters — a brother and sister made aware that Kanna’s resistance group has a spy in their midst — and the question of whether the resistance should call off their action or force ahead even if the overlords know their plans.

Also frustrating is the way that the cliffhanger from Book 15 is still the cliffhanger for this book, in a new form. If Urasawa’s work weren’t so darn well-drawn, I’d suggest that two volumes is an excruciating amount of time to make readers wait to find out what happened, but at least there are plenty of really pretty drawings of really ugly things — murders, sewers — to watch while we wait.

By focusing on the end, I’m probably approaching this in a way that’s completely wrong, culturally. I can’t even imagine what this would be like reading serialized.

(The publisher provided most of the above as review copies.)

Since today’s the day the latest volume of Naoki Urasawa’s 20th Century Boys mega-series comes out, I thought it might also be a good time to share with you this amazing piece of merchandise related to the series.

Michael Crawford’s Captain Toy site has a comprehensive writeup by Jeff Parker (probably not the comic writer) of this limited-edition release of a figure of the Friend. The Hong Kong company Hot Toys put out a number of exclusive figures to celebrate their 10th anniversary, and this was one of them. Parker’s piece is super-detailed, and I found it very interesting, especially since he wasn’t previously familiar with the manga, and I’m not very familiar with toy collecting. He’s also got a bunch of good pictures. There’s one of the accessories after the cut, but it contains a spoiler if you’re not caught up on the manga series. Read the rest of this entry »

Looking back at when I’ve managed to do this supposedly-weekly post, I’ve noticed that it’s mostly the last week of a month that I find things to talk about. A quick moment’s thought revealed why: many smaller publishers, whose work I’m more interested in, work to get their books out then so they’re still in the promised month of release. Anyway, I figure it’s better to talk about quality than ramble just to be timely.

Knights of the Lunch Table:
The Battling Bands

It’s the last week of the DCU we knew (hey, that rhymes), so lots of miniseries and series wrapping up, including the end of Flashpoint. I don’t think that’s going to be looked back on fondly as the introduction to a new beginning to the company, but more to the point, it wasn’t a very good read, either, just lots of violence for its own sake. I won’t miss many of the DC ongoings, which makes me part of the problem the “it’s NOT a reboot!” is aiming to solve. I will take a moment to point and laugh that the company is finally putting out the Green Lantern Movie Prequel Sinestro, months after the movie crashed and burned.

So what do I recommend buying this week? If you like superheroes and want something much more inspirational, try The Power Within (Northwest Press, $4.99). Ed suggests Knights of the Lunch Table: The Battling Bands (Graphix, $10.99). He’s right, it’s entertaining for a boys’ comic, more so if you like tracing Arthurian influences or wondering if the old singer named Davy is an homage to the Monkees. (That’s not to be confused with Knights of the Dinner Table, in its third decade with issue #177 out this week and the 33rd collected edition. That’s some longevity to admire, there.)

For manga, there’s only Naoki Urasawa’s 20th Century Boys Volume 16 (Viz, $12.99), but it’s not the best starting point if you aren’t already reading the twisty time-travel tale. So it seems to be something of a light week, but that’s ok, because I still have Baltimore purchases to enjoy. Being a comic fan doesn’t have to revolve around the weekly Wednesday.

The last few pages of Book 15 caused quite the discussion amongst 20th Century Boys fans of my acquaintance, as it showed the return of a character whose unseen presence lay under the entire middle section of the series so far.

20th Century Boys Book 16

Book 16 thus feels like a tease, since it doesn’t follow up on that brief appearance. There’s also more playfulness in its structure, incorporating the reader in its games. The cover approach, in which the kids seem to be talking directly to the viewer, continues on through most of the first chapter, which puts the reader in the story, taking a significant character’s point of view.

That character is the Friend as a child, finally showing us how he felt about always being on the outside of Kenji’s gang of friends. His wounded viewpoint consists of feeling smarter than the others but also keenly aware of how he’s left out of their plots. He may find what they do silly (or he may just be telling himself that to soothe the wound), but he still wants to be part of it, to belong. As kids, they’re selfish and thoughtless, unaware of how mean they’re being. It’s all complicated by his self-centered assumptions and willingness to be offended.

This chapter, even without remembering all the details of the bigger plot, is a wonderfully painful character study of being the outsider. I hadn’t thought of how the Friend came to be who he was from this internal focus previously. In many ways, he’s too much a cartoon super-villain for that, but Naoki Urasawa drags us inside his head, showing how the smallest action as a kid can have long-standing, unexpected influence later in life. After all, that’s the theme of the book, so it makes sense that that principle applies to all the characters, not just the “good” ones.

Still, even early on, this kid is manipulative and annoying. He’s focused only on what he wants and how others think of him, learning the power of information dropped in the right ear and the effect of playing on others’ beliefs. The previous scenes in the “haunted” house are revisited and elaborated upon to show more of his motivation, especially revealing how what matters to him is of no importance to anyone else. He seems to easily become obsessed, even to the point of it being considered mental illness. That may have been something the reader could figure out from previous events, but here, it’s both spookier and sadder, seen in a child who’s so mixed up about what should be important.

Urasawa’s staging is, as always, masterful, but it’s the characters’ expressions that really draw in the reader. I was marveling at how well he retells a classic story of a lonely child outsider, layered with creepy reminders of pieces of the tale we already know (including scenes of how the Friend’s coterie of assistants came together) … and just when it was getting really powerful, there’s a cliffhanger, and Urasawa flips us back to the future from the half-book flashback. Darn him!

Now, we’re in the post-plague world, where places have been quarantined and the near-superhuman Otcho is the only character we know. There’s yet more foreboding of doom, and perhaps one more chance to defeat the Friend and the world he’s built. It’s at these times, where the story leaps ahead once again, that my intellect thinks, “That’s a cheap trick to build suspense, cutting away and leaving yourself a gap where you can say anything happened.” Yet I’m still reading it, and I still want to see good win out in the end. Plus, Urasawa’s gorgeous scenes of rubble-filled village streets are cinematic in their appeal and detail.

20th Century Boys reminds me, in a way, of the Indiana Jones movies. They’re both a creator’s homage to the pulp entertainment they loved, and they’re both most enjoyable if you experience more than think about them. Because, in this case, the brain is going to point out just how much of a tease it all is, while the heart is hoping for Kenji to return once again, or for at least his spirit to live on.

(The publisher provided a review copy.)

It stunned me to see that Naoki Urasawa, in volume 15 of his long-running series, was still introducing new characters, but it was so skillfully done, and the new cast member has such potential, that I was intrigued.

20th Century Boys Book 15

Since the conflict this time revolves around the Pope’s upcoming visit to Japan for the Friend’s funeral, it’s natural that the new character is a priest, Brother Luciano. He’s come to the home of his deceased mentor to carry on his work investigating an odd Book of Prophecy. The mentor previously rescued him from life as a gangster and a drunk, creating deep bonds that provide clues as to what actually happened to the older priest. The story of redemption would, in other hands, be trite, but here, it’s told efficiently, with just the right particular images to illustrate Luciano’s past and possible future. He serves as an object lesson that a little knowledge quickly becomes dangerous for the bearer in these circumstances.

I’m of the right generation that a plot to kill a Pope invariably reminds me of Foul Play, but it’s refreshing to see established religion finally make an appearance in 20th Century Boys. The cult that the Friend has formed would normally come in conflict with an established Church, but here Urasawa shows us how the Friends have superseded conventional religion to become a world-wide super-organization. This alternate take on the looming threat serves as a refreshing break from the heavy main plotline while serving as a reminder and introduction to new ramifications of the overall situation. Plus, Urasawa turns the event in an unexpected direction that’s even more surprising than anything the reader could suspect.

We get to see the young detective Chocho again, a favorite character, as Luciano winds up in police custody in Japan. The threads of similarity between him and a previously seen supporting character reveal themselves in surprising ways. In between, there’s an exciting flashback sequence in which a priest tries to get medicine to a remote Chinese village during a rainstorm during the first plague. Urasawa is sure to keep the visuals involving, even while filling in background and reminding us that even the Pope has his own past.

In each recent volume of 20th Century Boys, Urasawa has been surprising me with the direction he takes the ever-growing story. The overreaching structure isn’t forgotten, but by diving into individual stories and the changing facets of how this world affects individual inhabitants, Urasawa justifies his length and structure. Plus, it lets him draw plenty of dramatic reactions and cinematic sequences of suspense that are a pleasure to read and look at multiple times. (The publisher provided a review copy.)

It’s a long time yet to be thinking about autumn and Halloween, but I know my most-anticipated book this week, the Scary Godmother Comic Book Stories collection (Dark Horse, $24.99) will make a wonderful companion to last year’s Scary Godmother storybook collection. I have all the comics already, but they’re so much easier to reread conveniently this way. Plus, there’s a new color sketchbook section — and what a deal, for 300 pages of great reading at that price!

Scary Godmother Comic Book Stories

The new edition of Dreamland Japan: Writings on Modern Manga (Stone Bridge Press, $29.95) celebrates the 15th anniversary of its release. The industry has changed a lot since then, and a new forward and afterward put that gap into context. A book by Frederik Schodt is always worth reading.

Troublemaker

In the “let’s point and laugh” category, Ziggy celebrates middle age with the hardcover Ziggy 40 Years 1971-2011 (Andrews McMeel, $24.99). Would probably make a great gift for your grandfather.

Also of some notoriety is the paperback version of Troublemaker (Dark Horse, $16.99), the Janet Evanovich series installment previously published as two hardcovers. Now that the whole story is under one cover at a reasonable price point, it’s a much better buy, but I suspect the unhappy novel readers may not return.

Most disturbing, though, is seeing six more Tokyopop books show up this week, two months after the company announced it was stopping publishing. Only one, Hanako and the Terror of Allegory Volume 4, is a conclusion; most head-scratching are the two debuts, Ghostface Volume 1 and Maid Shokun Volume 1. Zombie books walking!

On the positive manga side, I’m looking forward to another thrilling installment of Naoki Urasawa’s 20th Century Boys with Volume 15 (Viz, $12.99).

Ed’s glowing comments on the two previous volumes got me excited about reading this series again, especially after the soft reboot that happens in Book 13. (Warning: there are spoilers here for previous volumes.)

20th Century Boys Book 14

The big bad (who turned out to be a big bust) of the first half (Books 1-12) of the series is gone, but there’s still a global threat for the plucky gang of vigilantes to challenge. While the Friend was globablly beloved before, now, he’s a martyr. As the world mourns, those who remember and revere Kenji are gathering to break into Friend Land to find out more about what really happened to the kids back in 1971.

On a personal note, I’m glad to see more adult female characters introduced at this point. In addition to Kanna’s mother Kiriko (from the last book), who also holds the key to stopping the spread of a killer virus (making her defined by more than just her relationship status as mother and Kenji’s sister), there’s Takasu, a player on the other side. Takasu intrigues me because she’s such a schemer and realist. Her loyalties are not to a particular creed, only to herself, and her pessimistic realism is a refreshing contrast to the “no matter the odds against us, we’ll keep trying” determination of Kenji’s gang. She’s a manipulator, and perhaps I like her because she’s a more usual type of villain than the Friend’s bizarre certainties. The leadership void has been filled by someone unqualified; he’s not strong enough to take the position, but with her pushing him, no one else might see that.

The series seems to have gained new energy with the new, more deadly threat posed by the Friend’s organization, even though it’s not mentioned in this volume. Instead, the characters take a huge detour into the past. However, because of the virtual reality gimmick Naoki Urasawa is using, that history can be (and is) different than the one we’ve seen before. This time around, the kids are distracted, spending time with pinball machines or personal radios instead of their friends. They’re growing apart from each other, setting in motion the separation bridged only years later by Kenji’s desperate mission. We also get more background on other key players, people outside their group, and find out what Donkey saw in the science lab … maybe.

The art remains as cinematic as always, contributing to the perpetual suspense that’s a hallmark of this series. Urasawa never tells you anything directly when he can spin it across chapters, keeping you turning pages faster and faster in a quest to find the answers to the many mysteries he’s set up. Even what you think you know might be wrong, as the characters rewrite their own memories. All I know is, I’m back on board again. (The publisher provided a review copy.)

Review by Ed Sizemore

Otcho and the Kenji Group have pieced together all the clues, and finally, the moment to reveal the Friend’s true identity has come. However, it turns out that knowing the Friend’s identity doesn’t offer any advantage in stopping the New Book of Prophecy. Now the Kenji Group has to refocus its efforts on stopping a plot that looks to repeat the events of Bloody New Year’s Eve on a global scale.

20th Century Boys Book 12

Volume 12 marks the end to the first half of 20th Century Boys. You could call this story arc “Who Is Our Friend?” The hope was that knowing who the Friend was would give Kenji’s group insight on how to stop him and what he’s planning. But Urasawa loves red herrings and misdirection, so we instead discover that what’s important is not the man, but the plans he has set in motion. The New Book of Prophecy has a life of its own.

Volume 13 begins what I call “Stopping the New Book of Prophecy”. The start of this story arc really began when Kiriko, Kana’s mother, was introduced into the narrative. Of course, as readers, we didn’t know Urasawa was laying the foundation for a new story arc. Kiriko and the New Book of Prophecy just seem like new elements in discovering the Friend’s identity. Naturally, we should be wary of thinking we have the handle on the story. Urasawa is sure to have many more surprises in store for us.

Unlike Johanna, I enjoy reading the series in large chunks. I find the three-month wait between volumes is nerve-wracking. I like being completely lost in the world Urasawa has created and having all the details fresh in my mind as I move from volume to volume. You can see how the various timelines play off each other, how seemingly random events have deeper meaning, and how there are no minor players in this series.

A big appeal of the series is the human dynamics. I’m very fond of Yoshitune and his reluctant leadership. It’s an amazing lesson in the less flamboyant styles of leadership. Yoshitune, like so many of us, confuses charisma with leadership. Yoshitune may not be able to emotionally excite people like Kenji did, but he is doing the same work. The true core of leadership is the hard daily grind of keeping people organized and focused. For the past 14 years, he’s made sure people were cared for while continuing the investigation into the Friends Group. He doesn’t give himself enough credit as a vital member of the Kenji Group.

20th Century Boys Book 13

Kana’s idol worship of Kenji doesn’t help. Kana doesn’t realize that it took people like Yukiji to force Kenji to live up to his potential. Kenji became a great leader because of the support of his friends. It’s easy to believe that great leaders simply rise up from amongst the crowd by their own determination and special abilities. Urasawa reminds us that great leaders are born in and raised up by a network of support. Even the mighty Otcho didn’t simply appear out of thin air but was shaped by the people around him and his experiences with them.

These three-dimensional characters make the plot so exciting. We come to know and care about these people. We can identify with them directly or have friends that are just like them. This sympathy draws us into the story, because there are only a few extra-ordinary people in 20th Century Boys. Kana, the Friend, and even Otcho are the exceptions. This is really a celebration of the everyday hero. People like Yoshitune and Yukiji spend years fighting the good fight, slowly making progress against seemly impossible odds. Watching people just like us make a difference is both encouraging and a call to action.

Urasawa’s art is awe-inspiring. Flipping through the books, you can see the wide range of emotions expressed. His realistic art style blends perfectly with the realistic characters he creates. He’s reached that level of mastery where you don’t think about the art, yet it’s as integral to the story as the plot or characters. He uses page layouts to either speed up your reading and heighten dramatic tension or slow the pace down and really drive home what a character is saying or experiencing. I honesty can’t imagine 20th Century Boys being as compelling a read if it was just straight prose.

I always hate being caught up on 20th Century Boys. Urasawa has created such a rich world with fascinating people that I hate to have to leave it and wait three more months. Every comic book fan should be reading this series. It’s an exemplar of the best in graphic storytelling, a series as densely plotted as the best novels with visuals as stunning as the best movies. At the halfway point, I’m still as excited as when I picked up the first volume. This is a series I can’t wait to re-read like I did once Pluto was finished.