Cartoon: The Invention of Monogamy

Go to: The Nib, by  Isabella Rotman and Sarah Mirk

5,000 km Per Second

By Manuele Fior
Translation: Jamie Richards
Book Design: Michael Heck

5,000 km Per Second is a love story spanning the lives of two Italians named Lucia and Piero. The comic begins with their first teenage flirtation after Piero notices Lucy settling into an adjacent apartment and is immediately smitten by her appearance. Egged on by his best friend Nicola, the chapter ends with Piero making an awkward effort to catch Lucy’s attention. The narrative feels set to explore the unfolding tale of their first love. Instead, the start of the next chapter is set several years later and in a different country. Lucy and Piero have since broken up and are pursuing their separate careers. The succeeding chapters flit back and forth between their respective lives. And it ends with a bittersweet attempt to reconnect from the now two middle aged former lovers, significantly worn down by the intervening years. This is a story of how romantic relationships fail without showing the relationship itself, and without the plot contrivances usually employed in more glamourous Hollywood productions.

What compounds the deceptiveness is the ink and brushwork of Manuele Fior. The lush tones and bright palette are initially inviting and even indicative of a certain youthful naivete. And every change in location carries with it a sense of hopefulness. Fior’s expressionist figures are reminiscent of Paul Cezanne or a young Pablo Picasso. Their sensuous quality combined with the delicacy of Fior’s watercolors imbues every place with an exoticism that evokes the excitement of traveling to foreign places for the first time. Whether it’s Lucy studying the works of Henrik Ibsen while overlooking a lovely fjord in rural Norway, or Piero participating in an archeological dig in Aswan.

But the mood changes at the midpoint as Lucy and Piero slowly become disconnected from their environments. The initial excitement fades, only to be replaced by a sense of alienation. What once looked beautiful becomes oppressive. Time marches relentlessly forward, as expressed through the comic’s meticulous use of three-tiered rows of panels. The colors start to fade as if in response to their internal change. Lucy and Piero's attempts at cosmopolitanism only go so far. The local inhabitants remain mostly strangers or adversaries. The new country doesn’t become a second home. And returning to the old country doesn't provide any greater sense of belonging. When the much anticipated reunion finally takes place, Lucy and Piero’s accumulated life experiences and differing perspectives have created a vast gulf separating them. And yet, every relationship and heartbreak they’ve experienced separately is haunted by the shared memory of their first love. The memory which emerges from their meeting succeeds in interrupting the comic’s forward progress and allows for a flashback to circle the narrative back to the brightness of the first chapter.

But it’s only a momentary relief before life, in all its glorious indifference, forces them both to keep muddling forward.

Love and Lies Vol. 1

By Musawo
Translation: Jennifer Ward
Letters: Daniel Cy
Cover Design: Phil Balsman

At first glance Love and Lies possesses an interesting premise. To combat declining birth rates (an issue of real concern in present-day Japan) the Japanese government enacted the “Yukari Law.” The state was empowered to match every single 16 year old with each other into arranged marriages for the purpose of optimizing procreation. The law didn’t just aim to stabilize the Japanese population, but to improve it through the use of eugenics. Basically, the government has the genetic information of every citizen on file in order to to find the best possible marriage partner for every individual. At the beginning of the manga, members of the original generation affected by the law (known as the “Yukari Generation”) have grown up and are presently raising children of their own. The program is widely touted as a success, and their offspring have been declared to be “mentally and physically gifted.” Those children who're coming of age are currently receiving their government approved marriage notices. But will this generation prove to be as acquiescent as their parents?

Anyone raised to cherish ideals like “democracy” or “inclusiveness” will be horrified at the prospect of living in such a xenophobic and oppressively heteronormative society. They would probably compare the story's premise to fictional dystopias like Brave New World or The Handmaid's Tale. But that would be very very far from the image Musawo paints in the manga. A couple of confused teenagers do express discontent for the status quo at the very beginning, only for the scene to be played as comic relief. Love and Lies is first and foremost, a boilerplate high school romance. And not necessarily a challenging one at that, based on reading this volume and viewing a recent anime adaptation. The near future sci-fi elements are pushed so much to the margins that the story might as well be a dramedy set in the present about an arranged marriage involving the usual love triangle.

The introduction to aforesaid triangle is main protagonist Yukari Nejima, unfortunately named after the very law responsible for his existence when it brought his parents together. Yukari is the archetypical nonentity of a male character found in so many shonen manga. You could even say he’s actually an argument against the success of the law, because he’s as dumb as a sack of hammers. Naturally, his earnest ineptitude is considered an attractive quality to the much more charismatic characters surrounding him. This includes the hottest girl in his high school class Misaki Takasaki. Yukari’s had a crush on Misaki since the fifth grade, but couldn’t muster the courage to talk to her. However, he discovers that she reciprocates his feelings on the very night he receives his notice. Her opposite and Yukari’s arranged future wife is the doll-like Lilina Sanada. She quickly exhibits greater wit and initiative in their first meeting. And of course, there's best friend and aloof popular boy who has his own adoring coterie of female fans, Yūsuke Nisaka.

Funnily enough, there’s a more ambitious story struggling to break through the more familiar material. Misaki and Yusuke haven't received notices despite their age. And this could be connected to a shared secret they’re both hiding from Yukari. Yusuke even drops a bombshell on the reader at the end of the book. But most intriguing is an early but all-too brief hint that things may not be alright with the government agency playing matchmaker to the nation’s 16 year olds. Two officials practically stalk Yukari in a park at night just to hand him his notice. And that’s after he receives the notice in the form of a suspiciously glitchy email. Who does that in real life? But this gets drowned out by Yukari’s unceasingly inane dithering,  the awkward and inappropriate conversations between the two female leads about what makes Yukari such a catch, the fanservice oriented art surrounding Lilina and Misaki, or Musawo’s not so subtle fetish for getting characters to engage in big, sloppy kisses. Yum.

As gross as that last part sounds, it does point to what’s good about the story. Love and Lies may be weak in the world-building department, and its social analysis is at best, insubstantial. But at least it gets one thing right about its characters. They’re still horny teenagers. No matter how jaded they claim to be, they're grappling with emotions brought on by puberty. Given half the chance, some will even flout authority by sticking their tongues down each other's throats.

More NonSense: Comic-Con 2017 Edition

Go to: Comic-Con International

Comic-Con International in San Diego (at least until 2021) is the big comics-adjacent event this July. How did this year's super-massive convention go down? Here are a few links to get you started:

Words:
Moviepilot reports on DC's future publishing initiatives. Todd Allen reacts to the news that the comics industry is close to collapse.
John Lewis leads a march through the San Diego Convention Center.
Comics Announcement: The Terrifics by Jeff Lemire and Ivan Reis.
The 2017 Eisner Awards.
LA Times
Vox on the the film juggernaut that is Marvel Studios.
The Verge
The Beat, more, more, more,
io9, more, more, more, more,
Time
Tor
Women Write Write About Comics

Videos:
Comics Announcement: Superman: Year One by Frank Miller.
The Beat,
io9, more, more, more, more, more, more, more,
Lupita Nyong'o, more,
Estelle
Tested
Yellow Productions, more,
Hyper RPG

Trailers & Clips:
io9, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more,
Vox, more, more, more, more, more,

Photos:
Bleeding Cool
The Guardian
io9
Reuters
Space.com

Glen Weldon lists ten comics that changed the medium. It's a fairly conventional list since most pundits would agree with his choices.

Glen Weldon also lists his top 100 graphic novels.

Glen Weldon lists the most influential newspaper strips.

Matthew Thurber lists 10 cartoonists for art lovers.

Abraham Riesman on the rapidly expanding kids comics market.

Shannon Wattres, Tom King, And Veronica Fish list 17 comics to read at the beach.

Kelly Haircloth looks back at the 1950s boom in romance comics.

Amanda Shendruk analyses gender representation in comics.

Abraham Riesman on the fallout over Marvel making Captain America evil.

Christopher Butcher employs the somewhat unsatisfying "Marvel will be Marvel" observation when commenting on the publisher's recent woes.

Tom Holland trying to pass off as an American teenager in order to experience what life is like for students attending American high schools is cute. Then again, critics are going gaga over his portrayal of Peter Parker in "Spider-Man: Homecoming."

The "Marvel Cinematic Universe" version takes more liberties with the character created by Stan Lee and Steve Ditko than the two previous Sony Studio incarnations. But the changes have actually resonated with the MCU audience because they still manage to tap into the character 's core appeal. Take his relationship with Tony Stark/Iron Man. Peter's classic Spider-Man suit being gifted to him by Tony would seem like a violation of the superhero's reputation for self-reliance and creativity. But the relationship also hones in on Peter's often troubled history with terrible father figures. And Tony, who essentially substitutes for Norman Osborne/Green Goblin as wealthy industrialist with dubious motives, is as terrible a father figure as any. Peter's rejection of his generous offer at the film's end is in line with the character's emerging maturity. In the meantime, his hacking of the suit's parental controls is what any overprotective adult should expect from a very bright, if not too experienced teenager.

Holland's dorktastic Peter isn't the lonely outcast of Lee and Ditko. But the bumbling hero who learns to rely on a supportive network is one of the more welcome changes of the Miles Morales/Kamala Khan generation. More importantly, Holland is the most convincing adolescent of any actor ever tasked to play Peter. And it is refreshing to see him interact with a similarly young (not to mention multiethnic) cast of actors after so many MCU films populated by serious-looking adults.

Alex Abad-Santos on the film's homage to the iconic scene in Amazing Spider-Man No. 33.

Pepe the Frog now has a lawyer in Kimberly Motley.

Sean T. Collins lists the top 40 "Game of Thrones" characters  and the top 25 episodes in anticipation of the series July return on HBO.

RIP Joan Lee, spouse of Stan Lee.

RIP Sam Glanzman (December 5, 1924 - 2017), veteran artist known for  his many war comics made for Charlton and DC in the 1960s and 1970s.

RIP Flo Sternberg (March 17, 1939 - July 23, 2017), Marvel's 'Fabulous Flo'. Tribute by Michael J. Vassallo.

RIP George Romero (February 4, 1940 - July 16, 2017), director of "Night of the Living Dead". the film that spawned the modern zombie genre. Reactions from his colleagues.

RIP Martin Landau (June 20, 1928 - July 15, 2017), veteran Hollywood actor, whose credits included "Space: 1999", "North by Northwest", "Mission Impossible", and "Ed Wood".

RIP June Foray (September 18, 1917 – July 26, 2017), celebrated voice actress. Tribute from Matt Zoller Seitz.

Happy Valentine’s!

Go to: JL8 by Yale Stewart

Honey and Clover Vol. 10

By Chica Umino

The conclusion to Honey and Clover comes with few real surprises. As the series is basically a towering monument to the majesty of unrequited love, it's no real shock that none of the main characters end up together. At least not in the way expected in more traditional romantic comedies. After all, the whole thing is narrated by Yūta Takemoto, the unluckiest guy in the gang. And the tone throughout the series strongly implies that they'll eventually drift apart. As pointed out in Vol. 8, the only two people to have something remotely resembling a relationship are Ayumi Yamada and Takumi Mayama, though not with each other. And even when the volume catches up with them for one final look, their respective narratives are far from settled. Coming from the series' more down-to-earth characters, this unfinished state feels appropriate to the story. It's how things are concluded between Yūta, Shinobu Morita and Hagumi Hanamoto where things start to get a little odd.

Shinobu and Hagu have been in love with each other for quite some time, and have been torturing each other like two shy Fifth Graders who can't quite admit to their mutual attraction. The last volume ended in an emotional high as they finally confessed to having those feelings. But could these two volatile geniuses ever compromise their gifts or their aspirations? I've always found Hagu to be the least relatable of the entire cast, though the inner strength and determination she's exhibited of late have gone a long way to making her a more sympathetic character. But in the end, artistic passion wins over love. Hagu isn't looking so much for a partner, but apparently more of a father figure to watch over her while she heals. And when one does show up in the one plot twist I didn't see coming, he's willing to fulfill this role even if his own feelings towards her are never returned. The self-sacrifice is meant to be seen as something wonderful. But I found this match incredibly depressing, and to be honest, even a little disturbing.* But at least Shinobu finds his niche working with fun lovin' gaijin who can keep up with his misfit persona.

And so, the series ends just as it began - Yūta alone with his own thoughts. Looking back on the last five years, he asks "… if love that never bears fruit means anything. If something that vanishes and is gone is the same as something that never was." I'd say that the vivid emotions engendered by his own recollections have answered the question. And his last meeting with Hagu is so bittersweet it absolutely floored me.

The latter part of this volume includes some ancillary material, including two bonus chapters that are more in line with the lighthearted humor of the earlier volumes. Not that the silliness was ever expunged from the series. Far from it...

___
* I guess that even adult romance stories must have at least one creepy pairing.

Honey and Clover Vol. 9

By Chica Umino

As expected, vol. 9 of Honey and Clover advances the individual story lines of Hagumi "Hagu" Hanamoto and Shinobu Morita in a manner that is comparatively more melodramatic than those of the rest of the cast. We're finally let into what exactly Morita and his older brother have been up to all this time, and their actions retroactively explain Shinobu's prolonged periods of absence from school and his often fanatical obsession with accumulating vast sums of money while still remaining exceptionally miserly towards everyone.

Both Shinobu and Hagu have been largely defined as the series resident geniuses. In many ways, this role has hemmed them in. While most of Shinobu's friends, classmates and teachers have tolerated his selfishness on account of the brilliant work he supposably turns in from time to time, they've handled Hagu with kid gloves. She's the delicate flower whose extraordinary gifts must be carefully nurtured lest they wilt. At the beginning these surface differences resulted in much comic relief as the two butted heads for alpha-artist status, despite an obvious mutual attraction developing between them. But for the most part they're remained enigmatic figures, and after awhile this gets kind of boring to read. Something needed to be done to shake them up, which is what happens here.

What this volume demonstrates more clearly is how being labelled a genius has isolated these two characters. We learn that throughout the series Shinobu has been assisting his brother in a personal vendetta against the people who've wronged their late father. Shinobu is compassionate and loyal to a fault, but he's beginning to manifest some dissatisfaction over being perceived primarily through his incredible talent. Nevertheless he doesn't reveals his quest to the rest of the cast, further increasing his separation.

Hagu can't avoid being infantilized for her childlike stature and mannerisms. It doesn't help that she's supremely timid. Hagu claims that she wants to return to her childhood home once she graduates from art school. But she's at the cusp of admitting that she might actually want more out of life. The central event of this volume is a horrible accident that pushes her to grow up a little. While Hagu has demonstrated amazing powers of concentration in the past, this is the first time she's had to apply herself in ways that are well outside her comfort zone.

As for the third person in their love triangle, Yūta Takemoto is left mainly on the sidelines. He briefly considers abandoning his career plans to care for Hagu, before realizing how disastrous a choice that would be for everyone. As the POV character, Yūta is the primary voice for the series deeply nostalgic tone. He's a guy who expresses regret that the cast wasn't able to go on a certain beach excursion, and he conjures up an imaginary beach episode in his mind. It sure does suck to be Yūta. While the last volume focused on some of his friends moving on with their romantic relationships, not only does his five-year long infatuation remain unrequited, he'll be moving away after graduation and lose regular contact with everyone. No wonder the entire manga's narration is so wistful.

Getting back to Shinobu and Hagu, the accident is the catalyst that finally compels them to confront their shared anxieties, and someone raises the possibility of leaving it all behind. Can these two escape their respective reputations? Could these two volatile personalities even function well together?

Honey and Clover Vol. 8

By Chica Umino

When people look back nostalgically at their time in college and proclaim that those were the best years of their lives, what they're actually celebrating is a period of arrested development. At least that's the case with the cast of Honey and Clover. Not one member has managed to progress in anything resembling a grown-up relationship for the past seven volumes, not even the series' actual grown-ups. No one plays the field. Or has short term affairs. All anyone does in this manga is pine for another person for the last five years. It's an idyllic situation that has to come to an end because, frankly, it's starting to become unhealthy. In this volume, at least two characters are coming to the realization that they need to move past their childhood crushes and get on with their lives.

No more is this evident than with Ayumi Yamada, whose prolonged childhood is symbolized by an imaginary pack of cussing, overprotective unicorns. Now a post-graduate ceramics student, everything she's done up to this point has been in order to hang-on to her love interest Takumi Mayama despite having no chance with him. As a new man tries to situate himself in her life, the animal guardians become increasingly aggressive. The emotionally devastating climax of the volume is when she comes to a personal reckoning on why she's carried the torch for Mayama for such a long time. This is the most brutally introspective passage creator Chica Umino has written about her, but at least the overall impression is that she may be able to move on and find someone more worthy of her attention. Maybe.

This is mirrored by the enigmatic Rika Harada. She carries her physical frailty like a badge of honor and as a visible reminder of her dead husband. In flashback sequences, she's willing to follow him anywhere. And it appears she's now prepared to follow him to oblivion. A sudden visit to her childhood home serves as a painful reminder of how much she's lost. But as with Ayumi, the presence of another man (this time Mayama) forces her to reconsider.

With Yūta Takemoto appearing at to have accepted that his love will remain unrequited now that he's chosen his individual path through life, the manga is left with its two most eccentric and juvenile characters: hyper-aggressive man-child Shinobu Morita, and moe-magnet Hagumi Hanamoto. The story continues to drop hints that Morita and his brother are conspiring on something big. And the very conflicted Hagu has been avoiding Yūta since he's returned from the trip he took in the last volume. I just know their respective resolutions are going to be a bit more high key than the rest.

Ninja Girl Ko! Indie Special #1-2 and Video Girl Ai Vol. 15

Today's reviews are all about the kind of girls shonen manga fantasizes having around the house - inexplicably loyal to the passive male whom they happen to share the same roof.

Ninja Girl Ko! Indie Special #1-2
by Marco Dimaano, Kriss Sison

Ninja Girl Ko! began in the pages of the original pinoy manga anthology Mangaholix in 2007. With that magazine no longer an ongoing concern (as far as I can tell. Their website hasn't been updated lately), series creator Marco Dimaano has decided to go the self-publishing route, resulting in a big drop in production values. Succeeding the previous glossily colored work, NGK lives on as a pair of cheaply-printed minis. Ironically, this change brings the comic much closer to the look and feel of Japanese manga magazines.

NGK takes its cues from traditional shonen tropes from the Eighties. Filipino teenager Anton Alcazaren wanders into the woods during a school excursion, where he runs into Michiko Yamashita, a beautiful kunoichi and surviving daughter of a WWII-era Japanese soldier. At first enraging her with his patented clumsiness, he manages to earn her loyalty by saving her life. Michiko follows Anton back to Manila and becomes his bodyguard/housekeeper. But it isn't long before her presence attracts the unwelcome attention of a shadowy nativist organization called The Kamao. While the premise sounds like the setup to a domestic farce along the lines of Ranma 1/2 or Tenchi Muyo, both the artwork and preference for combat hews closer to later series like Naruto and Bleach.

The story has not yet gotten too far, so the two indie specials are a suitable enough jumping on point for new readers. Prior events are summarized and things pick up where they left of. In order to pay to replace a previously wrecked bike, Michiko enters an underground cage-fighting tournament. She easily thrashes the competition, but is then attacked by an equally skilled escrimador. Naturally, she's also a cute teenage girl. Named Maya Luna, she's later revealed to be working for The Kamao. Much of these two issues is devoted to building her up as a worthy martial arts rival to Michiko. And she's contrasted as the short-haired, genki girl equivalent to Michiko's more reserved personality.

The change in format seems to have freed-up series artist Kriss Sison. He's more willing to break with the grid and utilize a more Japanese style of layout. The results are more elaborately staged fights scenes accompanied by more "decompressed" storytelling. And the computer coloring of the past is now replaced by more straightforward stippling. The upshot though is that the series is now paced like mainstream shonen manga, while subject to the irregular release schedule of an indie comic. This could get much more irritating with the passage of time.

Video Girl Ai Vol. 15
by Masakazu Katsura

Any knowledgeable fan who's read Video Girl Ai could have predicted that nonentity/wish fulfillment character Yota Moteuchi would end up with magical helper Ai Amano. That's how the formula goes. How the story arrives at that endpoint is what attracts the reader to a particular series. Masakazu Katsura accomplishes this through a mixture of tortuous personal growth and shameless fan service. Characters are often expressing their niggling insecurities through extended monologues. Then the scene suddenly shifts to someone staring at some cute girl's ass. The pain and suffering isn't always confined to people's headspaces. There are scenes involving actual torture, assault, and attempted rape. Then there's the fantasy elements embodied in Ai. Unlike other would-be magical girlfriends, she exudes spunk. Her tomboyish behavior doesn't make her immediately attractive to Yota, so it's a slight subversion when he begins to favor her over the more traditionally feminine love interest. Not that this hasn't been seen before in romantic comedies were the leads start out hating each other before they fall in love at the end. However, the meaning of Ai's very existence is tied to getting Yota a girlfriend. So when she begins to develop feelings for him, her mission is not only deemed a failure, her life becomes imperiled as well.

The saga of Yota and Ai lasts for an emotionally-laden thirteen volumes. But rather than ending there, the last two volumes of the series feature side stories involving a different cast of characters. I skipped reading Vol. 14, which forms the first part of "Len's Story". I didn't really find that I missed much, as the it mirrors a lot of the main narrative. Hiromu Taguchi is a Yota version 2.0, and is helped by new Video Girl Len Momono, whose personality and appearance is also very similar to Ai's. The main difference is that the emotional issues Hiromu faces are resolved a lot more quickly and with less fuss. The last volume apparently ended with Hiromu thrown into turmoil over rumors about his love interest Ayumi Shirakawa. Vol. 15 starts with Len berating Hiromu for thinking less of Ayumi just because she might not conform to his virginal fantasy of her. It's very candid for a shonen romance. But hey, it turns out that the rumors are lies being spread by Aumi's conniving ex-boyfriend. The ex is confronted. Problem solved. When Hiromu starts to take Ayumi for granted, triggering the couple's first big fight, Len tells him to rediscover what he loves about her through art. Len is a repository of practical dating advice, embodied in a cheerful and assertive teenage girl. It's a more lighthearted approach. But the relative brevity of "Len's Story"  doesn't allow much room for its cast to establish a stronger separate identity from the main cast.

The last story "Video Girl" is actually an early prototype for the entire series. The art is a lot less refined, the visual gags are a bit more obvious, the humor tends towards slapstick, and the characters' personalities are portrayed in broader strokes. Compared to what came after, it fares badly. So it's more of a curiosity than integral reading material.

Honey and Clover Vol. 7

Honey and Clover remains among the most mellow depictions of quarter-life confusion I've read in comic form. At it's heart is Yuta Takemoto, whose life journey took a more literal turn in volume 6 when he hopped on his bicycle and road it as far as he could. Trying to escape the feelings of "emptiness" threatening to overwhelm him, Takemoto's cross-country journey settles into the easy, steady rhythm that has characterizes the rest of the series.

Creator Chica Umino has never seemed particularly interested in capturing the urban bustle, preferring to to place her Tokyo art school next to open fields, bubbling streams, and rolling hills. So the Takemoto storyline plays into her strengths as an artist. Moving away from the city gives her ample opportunity to not only illustrate scenes of natural beauty, but also of small-town Japan. Takemoto visits many quaint-looking convenience stores run by little old ladies. In one amusing scene, a store manager generously cooks him lunch while regaling him with stories about visiting Los Angeles. A shocked Takemoto is forced to reflect on how little of the world he's actually seen, compared to his host. Early in the book, Takemoto resolves to visit as many temples as he can afford to enter. This happens after he marvels at the craftsmanship of a window in the Zuiganji Temple. in that sense, Takemoto's road trip takes on aspects of a pilgrimage. There's nothing overtly religious, as the inspiration is artistic in origin. But there's still something pleasantly nostalgic about Takemoto's desire to see as much of old Japan before the summer is over.

Of course, Umino brings Takemoto down to earth not long after. His bike breaks down, forcing him to seek shelter at a nearby temple. Falling asleep after talking to a resident cat, he wakes up to discover the building undergoing restoration. He negotiates with the foreman to work for them part-time in order to earn the money to repair/replace his bike. He finds the manual labor emotionally rewarding, and even considers staying. But all too soon he's on the road again, facing the same doubts and anxieties that first motivated him into leaving Tokyo.

Takemoto's journey is mirrored by Hagu Hanomoto's own inability to find artistic inspiration. Failing to meet the demands of her professors, Hagu only begins to find her voice again after witnessing the struggles of an even younger student put in her charge. It's an appropriately tender, cute and funny scenario. It's also a little obvious. It doesn't resolve everything. But it's emblematic of Honey and Clover's proclivity for small-scale incidents over big, melodramatic confrontations.

Speaking of confrontations, it didn't occur to me that's it's taken this long for distant romantic rivals Ayumi Yamada and Rika Harada to finally meet. The meeting itself is less interesting than the resulting consternation it causes among the other characters, particularly Takumi Mayama and friends. While they assess the percieved "damage" and debate the next course of action, they're suddenly interrupted by Yamada. What happens next is probably the best comic moment in the book.

With only a few volumes left, the series has quietly reached a turning point, particularly with Takemoto, who now seems to be crossing into adulthood. Studiously keeping away from excessive displays of angst, Honey and Clover shows no hint of abandoning its wistful, warm, low-key approach.

Love is in the Bag Vol. 1

by Ace Vitangcol, Jed Siroy, Andrew Agoncillo, Ryan Cordova, Glenn Que

Love is in the Bag is one of the more successful ongoing efforts to create a high profile komiks series. It's been lavishly produced (by local standards) as a set of thick trade paperbacks, and more recently made available as an iTunes download for iOS devices. Launched in 2008, it's also another example of "Pinoy Manga" - a byproduct arising from Filipino fans love for Japanese comics and animation inspiring some younger artists to mimic its visual vocabulary and plot conventions. Written by Ace Vitangcol and drawn by Jed Siroy, Love... is an uneasy mix of shojo and shonen manga elements that, as far as volume one goes, have yet to congeal into a more convincing story.

In any case, Love... starts out as a shojo romance. The main protagonist is Kate Menella, a teenage wallflower who has a crush on star basketball player and big man on campus Calvin Jacobs. The twist is that every time she becomes overly excited, she transforms into a handbag. No explanation is given as to the origin of this condition, and no one seems to even question its existence - it's just another wacky manga premise that everyone within this type of story takes for granted. Everyone except for Calvin himself. That boy can be pretty oblivious at times. Not to worry, Kate's best friend is the brash swimming-team captain Kara Francesco. And for some reason she's hellbent on playing matchmaker with Kate and Calvin.

Unfortunately, this can't disguise the basic dullness of the transformations. Kate turning into an inanimate object whenever she sees Calvin quickly becomes repetitive, and it exposes how flat the characters are without the distraction of romantic complications. When Kate finally builds-up enough nerve to sit and talk to Calvin, the conversation is still mostly occupied by awkward silences and meaningful glances. These two sadly, have nothing in common. Kate is a rather passive presence without the urging of Kara and her cohorts. While I get the impression that Calvin is meant to be seen as likable as many a clueless shonen protagonist, he comes across as just dense. When not around Kate, he's even a tad insensitive to women. At some point a shonen-style rivalry with another talented athlete is introduced, but this doesn't generate as much heat as hoped for. This is mainly because his rival comes across as only a slightly more douchey version of Calvin, who also happens to get along with him.

The derivative nature of the plot is also reflected in the art. All the requisite elements are there from the big hair, sailor uniforms, and the usual zip tone effects. But the anatomy always feels a bit off, the backgrounds are perfunctory, and the page layouts aren't anything special to write home about. If the art is trying to emulate mainstream shonen manga, the linework isn't polished enough to match that standard. While not without its charms, it still looks rough around the edges.

The creators of Love... are in the process of completing volume five, so it's safe to say that the series has a well established fanbase who find the story's cute romance and high school intrigue entertaining enough to keep purchasing it. But judging from the first volume alone, this comic isn't greater than the sum of its parts, nor does it say anything very interesting about the themes and conventions it borrows heavily from.

Ristorante Paradiso

Natsume Ono is the latest beneficiary of a growing market for adult and experimental manga which every U.S. publisher seems to be banking on these days. Indeed, her art seems to come out of left field of mainstream conventions. It's recognizable enough to be labeled "manga". But just quirky enough to attract the attention of the indie crowd. Her most ambitious work to date, the period story House of Five Leaves, is currently being serialized online and will also be printed by Viz. Ristorante Paradiso however is an earlier work with a very different subject matter.

Readers who prefer their comics art with a more polished finish are going to find Ono a potential turn-off. I find it pretty refreshing. In Ristorante Paradiso she draws lithe, elongated figures which straddle a fine line between appearing elegant and appearing grotesque. She employs relatively thick, broken strokes to delineate her figures. And she keeps her background details sketchy at best. Sometimes this can make her page layouts appear flat and a little difficult to follow. She compensates by filling large areas with black or shades of gray to help with the page's readability. Overall, her characters possess a shopworn look that's very appealing.

The art also complements the story's setting. Like Fumi Yoshinaga's workplace comedy Antique Bakery, it takes place in an eatery staffed with attractive males. The establishment is a restaurant in Rome named the Casetta dell'Orso. Ono slightly subverts the bishonen fetish by making them distinguished, bespectacled middle-aged men (If there's a popular Japanese term for this fetish, I'm unaware of it). This policy is reinforced by the owner partly to attract more patrons, and partly in order to please his wife Olga. She is however keeping a secret from her husband that she abandoned her only daughter Nicoletta after the dissolution of her first marriage. Now a 21 year old woman seeking revenge, Nicoletta shows up one night at the restaurant threatening to expose Olga's past. But she then settles on blackmailing Olga for a job as one of the kitchen staff after she becomes enamored with the restaurant's headwaiter Claudio.

From this convoluted soap opera beginning, the book settles into a low key, slice of life comedy with romantic underpinnings. The story unfolds at a leisurely pace. Character development comes in tiny increments and small revelations rather than big dramatic gestures. Many readers would probably agree with one character's assessment of the ending as being "anticlimactic". This suits the understated nature of the story just fine. But Ristorante Paradiso also touches on the lives of ancillary characters, mostly the wait staff, possessing backstories that are more interesting than that of the three main protagonists. It doesn't help that the wait staff are all cut from the same design template as Claudio. A single volume feels too slight to sufficiently differentiate them and leaves many intriguing glimpses of narrative threads waiting for more extensive development. Ono might have sensed that, as there is a prequel called Gente being currently serialized which delves into their backgrounds with greater detail.

The story has the characters also engage in several awkward actions which are then conveniently set aside, including a final reveal at the end of the story. While this hardly seems realistic, Casetta dell'Orso is a place where people surrender to its ambiance of and accept one another. Anger and bitterness are eventually washed away. And as sappy as this sounds, love finds a way to forgive past transgressions, at least in Paradise.

This is what defines Ristorante Paradiso as a work for mature audiences. Not with adolescent angst or over the top histrionics. Not even with passionate rendezvous between star-crossed lovers. But with a quiet acceptance of living in a present full of uncertainties.

Emma Vol. 9

Emma volumes 8 and 9 collect several filler stories focussing on the secondary and minor characters of the comic. And I do mean minor. The first story of volume 9 deals with the Mölders household pet squirrel Theo getting lost in the woods for one night. And the last story is about three off-panel opera singers who sung in a The Barber of Seville performance that William and Eleanor attended. As these stories have no bearing on the main narrative of William and Emma's romance, they aren't exactly essential reading. But they still make for a compelling showcase of Kaoru Mori's considerable skills. The story of Theo demonstrates that Mori is just as capable of drawing nature as she is capturing the nuances of Victorian England. She manages to evoke Theo's isolation without unnecessarily anthropomorphizing the squirrel's behavior:


The story about Dorothea and Wilhelm pays careful attention to tiny details that adds up to a highly charged erotic tale about the married couple that deftly shifts between past and present:



A bit of their background revealed explains how much passion plays an essential part in their relationship, especially given Dorothea's flair for the dramatic:


In contrast, the last and longest story about one rising opera singer's unrequited longing towards his colleague is a rather sweet and funny tale about young love, and young people's dreams and ambitions. It has the most tenuous connection with the other stories in this volume:


The story of William and Hakim's first meeting in India is a reminder of the comic nature of their friendship, but is in itself a funny tale of how two boys from alien backgrounds manage to bond over sport. Their meeting pretty much defines their relationship from that point:


The story about two Haworth maids spending a day on a shopping trip is a nice slice of life look into the world of ordinary working women. For such a short story it feels meticulously researched:


Mori is not an artist who skimps on the backgrounds. They're essential to creating her authentic Victorian environments. Indeed, for a project like this, they are as important a character as the people who inhabit them:



Since these are additional stories, they basically serve to round out characters the reader is already familiar with. There are no major emotional climaxes, not counting Theo's tearful reunion with his owner. Just a lot of small character studies. But there is also an overwhelming sense of Mori's mania for the Victorian era. Having completed her main narrative, she's not yet ready to part with her beloved period. But this is an obsession not for something wholly imagined and fantastic, but for something grounded in a particular reality that is still foreign to her. This grants to all of Emma greater believability while still allowing the manga to be full of romance.

Honey and Clover Vol 6

Honey and Clover has turned out to be an odd series to wrap my mind around. I've spent a lot of time with art school students, so I recognize the broad types that Chica Umino is basing her characters on. But they're refracted through a different set of cultural values and popular conventions. Take Shinobu Morita: A perpetual adolescent whose narcissism and rule-breaking behavior is a constant source of irritation to every other character, but whose gregarious personality and oblique ways of demonstrating affection for even his beleaguered instructors differs from the disaffected attitude that is de rigueur to his Western counterparts. Then there's "Hagu" Hanamoto, a recognized prodigy who just happens to be shorter than average, but is the recipient of the sometimes overprotective behavior from the rest of the cast, particularly from her guardian Shūji Hanamoto. Like most relationships characterized as moé, this bond verges on creepy territory, at least to me, even with all the in-story justifications presented so far. And some of that creepy protectiveness is reflected in Takumi Mayama's attraction to the physically frail Rika Harada (While rejecting the far healthier Ayumi "Iron Man" Yamada).

Setting aside these reservations, Umino has fashioned some of the more beautifully layered cast of characters to be found within a coming-of-age manga. They're more interesting than the overly-wrought cast of Kare Kano. They're more subtly shaded than the cast of Flower of Life. They're as quirky in their own way as the members of Genshiken. While the entire series is framed by two love triangles, Umino manages to establish within her small group some very well-rounded individuals whp credibly fumble their way through life the way real-world college students are supposed to.


By volume 6 the sustaining conditions for those two love triangles begin to weaken as the students begin to detach and establish their separate careers outside of the safety of art school. This inevitable development has a significant effect on reader-identification character Yūta Takemoto. As the student who's always felt overshadowed by his more talented peers, Takemoto has lacked a clear sense of purpose. As the end of his collegiate life draws ever closer, and his career prospects remain as dim as ever, he makes an impulsive decision to "find himself". Such a move is fraught with danger of sounding cliched. But it works because Umino has carefully laid the ground for his emotional breakdown in previous chapters. Character development isn't brought about by big dramatic actions, but through tiny increments and small revelations. At the beginning of the volume, a series of parallel conversations suddenly force Mayama and Yamada to consider how they've both subconsciously contributed to the continuance of Ayumi's unrequited love for Mayama. Another series of conversations also compels Morita to reveal that he's a lot more sensitive to Hagu's anguished attempts to live-up to demanding academic and social expectations engendered by her enormous talent.

If all this sounds kind of dour, the comic is, on the contrary, often pretty funny. The serious scenes last no longer than necessary. And Umino treats everything with a light touch. Some of the best conversations in the series tend to involve traditional social occasions, and the imbibing of copious amounts of alcohol, which is always entertaining for the reader. But the humor is never cruel. Well, not too much. There's no doubt that even when putting her characters through their paces, she's sympathetic towards them, as her perfectly engaging art elucidates:


See, unemployment is hilarious, especially when it really hurts someone you care about! And where would Honey and Clover be without a truly silly Hagu-Morita art-related showdown?


Good times, good times.

Geeks in Love

Marie and Pierre

Kate Beaton has drawn some Valentine Day's cartoons.This one's my favorite. I am a little bit fascinated with the Curies. Is Marie trying to pour radium down the back of Pierre's neck?

Dramacon

One trend I've noted within this month's posts is the emergence of a younger generation of artists influenced by the shojo manga imported from Japan in the last decade. It's a marked contrast to the previous generations of comic creators whose exposure to manga was almost exclusively shonen or seinen. This infusion of girl-oriented comics just happens to coincide with the recent trend towards the cross-gender kawaii aesthetic, felt even in the pages of the king of boys adventures magazines, Shonen Jump.

Developing these talents is undoubtedly a long-term effort. Russian born, Canadian educated Svetlana Chmakova is probably the most promising young creator presently active. I thought I'd take a look at Dramacon, her first long-form work. Chmakova seems to have followed the familiar advise of writing what you know, because Dramacon is clearly drawn from real life experiences. The entire story takes place in and around an anime convention - Actually an annual convention held three times within the comic to be more precise. Originally published in three separate volumes, each volume tells the events at one convention. The result of this narrative structure is that despite the large total page count, the character interactions have to be resolved within a smsller deliniated space. Another compromise starting from volume two is that offstage developments - what occurs between the conventions - have to be quickly summarized at the beginning of each volume, which isn't particularly elegant since it highlights the contrived nature of the narrative's serial nature.

In part one Christie Leroux, a high school student and amateur writer, travels to Yattacon with her artist/boyfriend Derek Hollman to promote their self-published book at the convention's artist alley. As a complete newbie, Christie immediately suffers extreme culture shock. But Derek is too much of a jerk to support his clearly distressed girlfriend. Left to fend for herself, Christie literally runs into cosplayer Matt Green. Matt's something of a lone wolf working out his own issues over fear of rejection. Nevertheless he lavishes more attention on Christie in a few minutes than Derek does during the entire con. Christie gradually begins to disengage herself from Derek as she falls in love with Matt.


The romantic plot is nothing new off course, but the chemistry between Christie and Matt is both very charming while containing just enough edge to make their relationship believable. That their romance takes place in an anime convention gives it a heightened surreal quality. Chmakova captures the bustle and energy of the event and neatly summarizes what goes on for the most part. But the convention also serves to frame the extent of the romance. After three days everybody has to return to their real lives.

Aside from falling in love, Christie is also an ambitious writer. Unlike other fledgling talents unable to take constructive criticism, she is open-minded and earnest. She briefly falls under the wing of seasoned professional Lida Zeff - a somewhat idealized comic creator/mentor figure whose encouragement motivates Christie to work harder on her book.

While only the first part of a larger work, volume one of Dramacon actually works well enough as a self-contained romantic comedy: A couple meet, fall in love, and separate in the end. A reader could stop at this point.

In part two there is a noticeable shift in attitude and emphasis. While Matt's new girlfriend prevents Christie and Matt from simply picking-up where they left off, other characters share center stage. Christie is accompanied to Yattacon by new artist Bethany Peters, who replaces Christie as the convention-going newbie. A trio of artist alley tablemates known as Firebird Studios can't help but listen in, and function as a humorous Greek chorus. Despite her inexperience, Bethany's own artistic skills are advanced enough for Lida to personally recommend her to a colleague for some future project. She is however ambivalent about becoming a professional comic artist, not in small part due to familial pressure to enter into a more respectable field. As always Lida shows-up later to give Bethany some sage career advice.


While the convention still retains its energizing effect, the snarkier side of fandom reveals itself to Christie and Bethany. Obnoxious artists, know-it-all fans, unwanted glompers, fussy cosplayers, mean-spirited cosplay haters, message board trollers, all get some commentary. One particularly self-indulgent scene has Lida debate, and win against, an annoying manga purist over the proper definition of manga. Naturally the purist looks to be about ten years old. This particular issue has obvious resonance to Chmakova. There's something heartfelt in her exploration of these aspects of fandom. But her attempts to juggle Christie and Matt's relationship, Bethany's professional aspirations, and myriad facets of the North American manga industry, produce a less focused narrative. By the end of part two, Christie and Matt have been reduced to smaller supporting roles.

The last volume is the weakest of the three. While the Christie/Matt romance finally moves forward after being put on a holding pattern in the last volume, the Bethany arc takes central stage. Her family visits her at Yattacon, which causes her mother to look on disapprovingly as Bethany tries to justify her behavior. Unfortunately there is little space to develop these new characters in this already crowded volume. Thus attempts to reach a satisfactory resolution fall flat not just for the Bethany/mother conflict, but also for the rest of the cast. There's a line uttered which is meant to lampshade another plot point, but could be applied to the conclusion of Dramacon: "This is a little too perfect and convenient. Where is the tension? Where is the drama? I call bad writing.”

Dramacon is still thoroughly enjoyable despite its disappointing third-act. Much of its problems stem from oscillating between the Christie/Matt romance, and the later additional elements which could have been helped with more space. But there's no doubting Chmakova's strengths as a visual storyteller. The art starting from volume one is highly polished, made more impressive when considering that the story takes place in a setting as rich in background detail as an anime convention. Chmakova has absorbed the language of manga - it's expressiveness, rhythm, and energy - and transliterated them into a North American milieu. This is far more sophisticated than mimicking the most superficial aspects of mainstream Japanese comics to reinterpret familiar American characters. I occasional wonder if Chmakova's training as an animator must have something to do with this, because Lida emphatically recommends art school at one point.


For what its worth, Dramacon is a very entertaining effort, and a heartening example for other young, aspiring creators. Hopefully Chmakova's style will continue to mature and deepen. It will be interesting to see whether she and her contemporaries will thrive in the coming years.

Note: The Ultimate Edition collecting all three volumes contains some additional material in the form of a short story that takes place after the events of Dramacon.