Review: Wolf

Wolf, released by publisher Gen Manga Entertainment Inc.

Wolf, written and illustrated by Shige Nakamura
Publisher: GEN Manga Entertainment Inc.
Genre:  Seinen/Sports
|450 pgs|$12.95 USA| $12.91 CDN|
ISBN-13: 978-0985064426

GEN Manga is a publisher that I have talked about before – discussing their digital anthology. As a digital product, the GEN Manga Anthology is one of three digital anthologies currently undergoing publication. One of the exciting developments of this year is the release of some of GEN’s initial series in paperback form – moving from the digital world exclusive to the tankobon audience. Previously this year, they released Vs. Aliens, a short rom-com mystery about aliens, Kamen, a super-powered battle manga in feudal Japan, and the volume I am reviewing today, Wolf, a seinen boxing drama.

Wolf is the story of Naoto, a young man from rural Japan who travels to Tokyo to confront his father, a champion boxer, who abandoned Naoto and his mother when Naoto was young. Naoto is set on bringing justice to his father for his own very personal reasons, and Naoto’s father, Kengo, agrees to fight him – inside the boxing ring. What follows is Naoto’s training and matches in order to become a pro, and then meet his father for their fight in the ring.

When I was reading Wolf as single chapters in the digital anthology, each one was a bit of a fun romp. There is a lot of great action in Wolf, and the characters are a bit extreme (in a good way), so it was really fun reading. When all the chapters come together for the tankoban product, things start to go south a bit. The individual chapters don’t really mesh well at times, and there are some inconsistencies with the pacing. I imagine this happens with other manga (most of it probably not published in English), but it’s pretty noticeable here. Additionally, some of the scenes of this manga, when taken in context of the whole, probably could be cut out. A great example is the scene where Naoto and the supposed love interest, Mayumi, brings Naoto a towel for a shower shortly after he reaches the gym that Kengo trains at. There’s a weird, misplaced sexual overtone in this scene that doesn’t match the content of Wolf, and could have easily been removed to the betterment of the story as a cohesive whole

Example scene of Wolf that does not match the tenor of the rest of the book.

The punishment for having such a unique and on the edge publishing system like Gen Manga is creating is that there isn’t a lot of time to do editing in the sense of the regular industry editing that is a main feature of manga. Scenes like this one slip through the cracks because the Japanese writer is not working with a full-time editor, and the English editor/translator only has so much time to get the work into print, so perhaps there is not time to rewrite or redraw content that is slated for any given issue. The end result is a product that is rough around the edges.

Another word about production – I normally don’t have much to say about a book’s construction, i.e. its layout, its binding, etc., except when something bothers me. Wolf as a story is pretty fun, but a little inconsistent. Wolf as a book fairs worse. Pages have bleed-through issues (the paper is thin enough that you can see the ink on the other side), and some of the images (at least in the edition I have) seem blurry, as if the match of the image to the page was disrupted somehow. This isn’t like an ink smear, but looks rather like a low resolution image printed on paper. The result is a little jarring at times. I do have to give major props for the cover design, which is striking with its bold yellow.

If you can ignore a few bad scenes, Wolf would be a pretty good boxing story with a lot of heart. Digitally, there is a lot to like about Wolf, and there’s enough good storytelling here to deliver, especially for the price point. Gen Manga will need to revamp their printing process in the future though, especially for people who demand higher quality paper. For me, I found that I liked the volume despite its problems, but recommend it only with the previous caveats.

For Fans Of: Rocky, sports manga, father-son conflict
Final Verdict: Recommended with reservations

Review: MW, by Osamu Tezuka

I have been working through Vertical Inc.’s backlist of Tezuka titles the past few weeks with some purchases spurred by the Tezuka MMF earlier this year, and after rereading Ayako and reading Princess Knight, I stepped up to the plate to read the massive tome that is MW. Let me be completely up front here: this content is clearly not for the squeamish, and is a very dark, melodramatic story that you don’t necessarily enjoy as much as experience.

The story revolves around two male characters caught up in a tragic event which reverberates throughout the entire volume – a leak of a poisonous gas called MW (pronounced ‘moo’) on Okinawa Mafune an island in the Pacific in which all people who present on the island minus our two main characters are killed. THis is all the more outrageous because the gas belongs to “Nation X,” a thinly veiled United States. Yuki is a sadistic serial killer, presented as the moral-less antagonist of the book, and his opposite is Father Garai, a priest that is his lover and attempted redeemer. Both are traumatized by the gas attack, but the damage from the MW gas has changed Garai and Yuki in individual ways – Yuki is determined to wreck havoc on anyone associated with the gas attack while the damage from it slowly kills him, while Garai lends his hand to saving others and attempting to prevent Yuki from doing harm.

There is plenty of action here – car chases, cross dressing bank robberies, airplane hijackings; but this story is better understood as an analogy of the relationship between the United States (the evil that made the evil of Yuki possible) and Japan (the greedy, ignorant politicians who sit comfortably in the hands of the United States) during the time of the Vietnam War.

Tezuka makes some powerful statements about the guilt of the Japanese during the Vietnam War, and uses Yuki as a sort channel for the evils associated with that period of world history. Yuki can be considered a harbinger of sorts, or even potentially a symbol of the violence of that period; Garai as well a symbol of how powerless the “good” were in their attempts to stop or prevent that violence, and how easily they too were seduced by the environment that allowed that violence to take place. Innocent people die left and right by Yuki’s hand, and his alliance with major banking, the Japanese government, and the United States military brass is all very well orchestrated; Yuki as an allegory ties these three entities to the death and destruction of Vietnam.

While there is plenty of intellectual content in MW, the story has some serious flaws often associated with Tezuka’s works. Tezuka represents Yuki and Garai as a homosexual couple, but their relationship is potentially based on a pedophillic encounter on Okinawa Mafune, and homosexuality is generally approached in a manner rooted in the time that MW was written. Likewise, women characters in this series are treated as doormats (one character actually loses the ability to walk after Yuki rapes her), with one notable exception. All of this leads to very uncomfortable reading, and although these dark spots aren’t enough to derail Tezuka’s discussion, they are enough to sour a reading experience.

Tezuka’s artwork is again fantastic in this series. His master draftmanship and layouts propel the story forward always at the right speed for the moment. His illustrations of the aftermath of the gas attack are profound, and while some modern readers may be turned off by the cartoonish look of his characters, his advanced panel composition and pacing is in top form in MW.

MW is dark, violent, and a fantastic tale marred by the heterosexual male chauvanist ideas that were mainstream at the time of its writing. While I do endorse Tezuka to most readers, I feel that MW is a series left best to Tezuka fanatics and geikiga readers who are used to this type of dark manga. It is certainly not a charming book, and not for your average manga reader. For those who are able to look past its flaws, you will find MW an intense and engrossing read full of symbolism and allegory. For the rest – it might be best to stick with Princess Knight.

Manga Widget Investigates: Wolfmund

When you are a manga reader always looking forward to the next big license, summer is one of the best times of the year. This is the time of San Diego Comic Con and Otakon, big events in the manga and anime world. Many licenses are announced (or sometimes confirmed, depending on if Amazon gets too frisky) and this oftentimes has readers searching for information on the latest announcements. With that in mind, this week’s post is in regards to one of Vertical Inc.‘s latest announcements - Wolfsmund, a seinen series written by Kuji Mitsuhisa.

Wolfsmund (狼の口: ヴォルフスムント or Ookami no Kuchi: Wolfsmund) is a seinen series set in 14th century Switzerland and centered around a massive checkpoint between one land and the next. The gate, Wolfsmund (the wolf’s maw) is the location of most of the action in the series, and guards St. Gotthard’s Pass, a key travel site in the Dark Ages – it connected two regions of Switzerland, Uri and Ticino, and was also one of the most direct routes to the Germanic states or to Italy.

The entire story appears to be about rebels fighting against some invading force- possibly Austrian or Germanic. In this manga, chapters seem to be centered around commoners or knights attempting to seek refuge or escape capture through St. Gotthard’s Pass as they try to move towards Italy; but the antagonist of this series, Governor Wolfram, seems to capture all who would attempt to evade him.

From what I can tell, Wolfsmund is a fairly dark manga – brutal and unflinching in the face of what admittedly was a dark period of human history. There is nudity and decapitation; there is violence and plenty of sword fighting. The series is not a warm and fuzzy read by any stretch of the imagination.

Some of the sword fighting action of Wolfsmund, Vol. 1. Vertical has announced this title as a future license.

Wolfsmund is currently being published in Enterbrain‘s Fellows! anthology, of which there is not a whole lot of data that I can find published – it appears that this month’s release marks their 24th volume of the anthology, so potentially about 2 years old at this point. What is more well known is that Wolfsmund is currently at 3 collected volumes and is currently ongoing. While I think this is a great license for Vertical, I continue to be surprised by the lack of licensure of Vinland Saga, another historic seinen manga – this license may be a concession by Vertical that this type of manga is in demand by the fan base, but seems alltogether more dark and sinister than Vinland Saga, a title published by Kodansha. (Vinland Saga’s length, ongoing at 11 volumes, may also have something to do with it).

There were plenty of other announcements this summer that I hope to explore at some point – if you have favorites, let me know, and I will see what I can find!

 

 

Review: Crying Freeman, Vols. 1-5

If there is one particular thing that Kazuo Koike is known for in the United States, it is most likely his long running samurai historical-action manga Lone Wolf and Cub. Koike has written other manga as well, and all of them are pretty strange. Indeed most of the series he has written are the type of manga you read as a sort of guilty pleasure. Crying Freeman is that kind of title; it stars a ridiculously handsome super-assassin named Yo Hinomura and his perfect lover Emu Hino. The bulk of the series is Yo murdering rival gangs and secret societies, all the while being beautiful and having pornographic sex with the many women of the show.

Wait, wait, let’s rewind a bit. The story starts out as a young artist, Yo Hinomura, reports a murder, and ends up being kidnapped by a gang called the 108 Dragons. These Chinese gangsters use acupuncture and hypnosis to turn Yo into the perfect assassin. His nickname soon becomes “Crying Freeman” because after he kills, he is released from posthypnotic suggestion and weeps for the person he has just murdered. Emu Hino sees him murder someone, and expects to die because of it – instead, Freeman spares her and makes her his wife.

Later, the series devolves in to the weirdest, kinkiest gangs and secret societies doing battle with one another with Crying Freeman at the lead. He fights gangs made up of Vietnam veterans, strange-ass bear worshipers, an African terrorist group, and others. The stories are all interchangeable, because Freeman is perfect and unkillable. After the beginning of the series, you could read all of the volumes out of order and still maintain the same storytelling. Freeman gets involved in some conflict, it turns out someone is trying to destroy the 108 Dragons, he intervenes as its leader, has fabulous, hot, pornographic sex with some buxom beauty, and then murders a slew of bad guys who can’t hope to touch him.

What Crying Freeman could have been with a slightly different storytelling focus is not so clear, but what is absolutely clear is that this manga is like a giant fantasy. It’s machoism wank material, written in a completely chauvinist way. Defending the content as anything more than that would be a gross overstatement of its purpose and intent. But the manga itself is something of a strange creature, because even though there is all this murder and sex, the books are actually rather boring, likely due to the same repeating storyline.

The art of Crying Freeman is ridiculously complex and lifelike – The artist who illustrated Crying Freeman also illustrated another of Viz’s Pulp titles - Strain. It is the mix of absurdist story and hyperrealistic art that gives Crying Freeman a shot. Without the realistic art, this series would have floundered; it needs that weight to transmit its story.

The art may be complex, but it isn’t always pretty. Crying Freeman, Vol. 2.

If anyone that likes the idea of Crying Freeman enough to want to own it actually frequents this blog, I would be surprised – however, getting a copy of all 5 of Dark Horse‘s print run is not that hard. I picked up a set on eBay, and it took me the better part of 2 years to finally getting around to reading them. But now that I’ve finished the series, I can understand the appeal, especially in the 1990s where something like Crying Freeman could potentially do quite well in the direct comic market. You do have to understand what it is, and its major failings, which I have mentioned. You have to want to read the kind of story that Crying Freeman is telling. For me, that story isn’t worth keeping (or even worth reading, honestly). And for many, Crying Freeman is a relic of a male dominated manga market that has not held up well over time.

The current Dark Horse versions are out of print, but are easily accessible secondhand, either through Amazon or through eBay. This is not a comic I would give to strangers or young adults; it’s hardly a manga I would give to another comicbook reader. But there may be some that will enjoy the hyperrealistic violence and sex that is a major component of Crying Freeman. It’s just not my cup of tea.

Review: Breathe Deeply

Breathe Deeply
Written and Illustrated by Doton Yamaki
Publisher: One Peace Books (October 1, 2011)
Language: English
Genre: Seinen
Pages: 474 pages
US $16.95
ISBN-13:978-1935548072

As a medical professional, I sometimes have a hard time reading medical dramas or watching medical shows on television.This is especially true with shows like House, where the way the series is set up forces it to be completely technical and still be somewhat accessible for the layperson. As part of a long-standing studying stress reliever, my friends and I would gather around the television during pharmacy school and analyze all of the things that were going wrong throughout a given episode of House. I remember running through lists of ways the medical team could have accurately diagnosed the patient and not half-killed him or her throughout the show.

It was this same sort of trepidation that I came into my reading of Breathe Deeply, a hefty volume of manga written by Doton Yamaaki, the pen-name of a husband and wife creative team who have been serialized in Kodansha‘s Morning, among other titles. This particular title seems to have been published by Sanctuary Publishing in Japan, which is a publisher I don’t have much information on; according to the One Peace Books website, the English publisher is a joint international venture of Sanctuary Publishing.

Regardless of the source of this piece of fiction, Breathe Deeply is a deep and sometimes dark look at one of the great medical debates still plaguing the medical community; the use of stem cell research to save lives.

Sei and Oishi are two young men in love with a sick girl named Yuko, a girl with an incurable heart condition that requires she receive a heart transplant in order to survive. She does not receive the necessary treatment in time, and passes away. The story of Sei and Oishi is one of heartbreak and stubbornness as each of them try to find their own way to a solution to Yuko’s illness after her death. Each of the men has a different outlook on the use of stem-cell research based on their interactions with Yuko. Sei, a brilliant chemical engineer, has created a polymer that can mimic heart cells and be applied to the failing heart to help massage it and keep it working, while Oishi struggles to have his research accepted as a major mode of inquiry into stem cell research (he has potentially discovered a unique way to create a new heart out of stem cells). The battle between them is one that weaves through the convoluted issues surrounding stem cell research – is transplant medicine ethical, is stem cell research murder to save future lives, and other modes of a morality vs. scientific progress argument.

Even when each character is at their highest point in the volume, each has to deal with the guilt and sorrow they’ve been grappling with for the past 15 years. It makes their struggles and fights more personal, their victories more bitter, and sets the stage for one of the most well-written “friendships” in manga for 2011. The way that Sei and Oichi play off of each other makes Breathe Deeply into a real interpersonal drama, where it otherwise could have been a sermon. Doton Yamaaki have an excellent eye for dialogue, and interactions in the lab seem very true to life, while the interactions between Sei, Oichi, and Yuko are a convincing mix of hormones, anxiety, and longing.

Doton Yamaaki have done an excellent job presenting both sides of the argument in this book, and it is clear that the only agenda the pair has is to write compelling fiction. In this area, they succeed, and do so with aplomb.  Breathe Deeply is a brilliantly written and illustrated piece of fiction that allows the reader to be drawn into personal fights and relationships while simultaneously asking the deepest questions and expecting no answers.

While I would not recommend Breathe Deeply to every manga reader (its often sketchy visual style and some adult scenes will not suit some readers), I do think that it is an excellent medical drama. The relationships are complex and human, and moments that could have been preachy or despicable are cast in that same human light. Overall, Breathe Deeply is a surprise success, and one of the better manga published in 2011.

A copy of this work was provided by the publisher for this review.

Review: Butterfly, Vol. 1

Butterfly, Vol. 1
Written and Illustrated by Yu Aikawa
Paperback: 208 pages
Genre:
Seinen/Horror/Gender-Bender
Publisher:
TokyoPop (March 1, 2011)
Rated: T for Teen (13+)
ISBN-13: 978-1427818522

One of the things that surprised me (and continues to surprise me) about TokyoPop was their ability to survive off of B-list titles. The subject matter of this review is a prime example. Butterfly is the definition of B-list. The series is a five volume supernatural/horror/gender bender from Gentosha, which looks to have a really smart collection of josei and seinen manga. Why this series was picked from all of the other content Gentosha could provide is really not the subject of this review, but it is worth considering. Perhaps Tokyopop was getting smarter with their releases, and knew that Butterfly would appeal to their fan base.

If that is the case, this series proves that I was not a part of the TokyoPop fan base. The story centers on Ginji, a high-school guy with a severe hatred for the occult, but who is haunted by the image of his dead brother. This dead brother appears to have hung himself, for reasons unknown. Ginji meets up with a girl who his friend has introduced him to and ends up in a rough spot at a carnival. He gets spooked in a haunted house, punches an actor in the face, and then runs off. This turns out to be a problem when the company that owns the carnival blackmails Ginji for 600,000 yen (approximately $6000) to keep from reporting him to the police. Ageha, a middle school girl/boy (gender ambiguity ensues yuk yuk) promises to pay all of Ginji’s debts if he helps her kill all the ghosts in existence.

So after a completely contrived beginning with holes in it the size a of Mac truck you could drive through, we get to these episodic adventures where Ageha uses his/her special powers to create a ghost out of the thoughts and memories of the people who believe in it, and then Ginji kills the ghost. The ending of the manga promises an upcoming tell all about Ginji’s brother and the death of some small girl that somehow leads to his death? It’s not very clear, and the lack of future volumes makes it a moot point.

I don’t like the art in Butterfly. It has a sort of sketchy quality that I don’t care for (personal taste here, so this is right up your alley if you like less refined art). The character designs are also very much rooted in the early 2000′s which makes sense, given the original publication date in 2003. The manga hasn’t aged that well, especially now that readers are far more likely to see illustration like Tegami Bachi or Blue Exorcist as their shonen manga of choice. It shows that things have changed since the boom years, and it shocks me that Tokyopop liked this series enough to publish it in the USA. It has all the hallmarks of dated material written when anyone would pay any amount for these comics.

Am I being overly critical? Perhaps. TokyoPop, for all the ridiculousness of its closure and limited reopening to publish Hetalia (this may or may not be the case, news to come as we find out more) did produce some good comic books for American audiences. Some of these comics sold copies, even! But I don’t think I am overly critical when I say that Butterfly was a very typical TokyoPop license, and one of the reasons why I wasn’t a huge fan of their catalog. Series like Butterfly aren’t my favorites, and even if there were another 4 volumes waiting in the wings to read, I wouldn’t. I don’t even suggest you go out and buy Butterfly on the second hand market – it’s not worth the time.

Manga Widget Investigates: SOIL

This week, I thought I would take a break from shojo and josei about complicated and beautiful women and look at something a little more… different. This week has been a bit surreal, so I thought it might be interesting to look at a manga that is also a bit surreal.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet SOIL.

Published in Enterbrain‘s Comic Beam, SOIL is a psychological mystery by Atsushi Kaneko, a mangaka influenced by the punk movement – it represents his second major foray into the world of alternative manga, the first being Bambi and Her Pink Gun, a 6-volume manga also published by Enterbrain and picked up by Digital Manga Publishing.
Apparently, the book did so poorly that it only got two volumes published in 2005 and 2006, and was subsequently dropped by DMP. While I have my own theories about why the series didn’t succeed here in the USA, David (Manga Curmudgeon) Welsh loves it, so that really should be enough for anyone that reads this blog.

SOIL follows two detectives who report to the mysterious disappearance of a seemingly normal family in “New Soil Town” a pleasant, idyllic community where nothing is what it seems and everything is a lie. The main character, a fidgety young woman named Onoda who seems to lack social skills is paired up with an old pervert who likes to smell his own B.O. and play with himself during their work on the case. It’s a bizarre combo, but these characters don’t seem to be the type you connect and empathize with; instead, (if Bambi and Her Pink Gun is any indication) Atsushi Kaneko creates characters that are both true to life, funny in their compulsions and habits, but darkly accusatory and often terrible people. It makes for very interesting reading.

The art style of SOIL is what makes it one of the most visually interesting “Manga Widget Investigates” series I have ever looked at. The dark, bold lines that create the form of the illustrations on each page are something I would expect from Western indie comics or something out of AX, and I think that’s the selling point of a series like SOIL. This could easily find a home with any of the indie books publishers like Last Gasp, but it also could easily be a part of Dark Horse‘s seinen/CLAMP specific line that includes books with similar violence and content. I feel like the market is growing for this type of story – as mainstream comics start to expand and become something a bit more than tights and abnormally large breasts and new comics readers especially branch out to things like books like Demo, Daytripper, and even things like Locke and Key, alternative manga has an interesting role to fill in the coming years. I imagine books like Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service will make the way for things like SOIL, and that’s an especially good thing. Or, all this hopeful thinking is a complete pipe-dream. One of the two.

SOIL started publication in 2004, and ran for 11 volumes, had its own TV drama, and represents a type of manga I very rarely request but also could be a bridge between mainstream comics and the manga community. And, it’s probably damn good reading.

Review: Disappearance Diary

Written and Illustrated by Hideo Azumi
Publisher: Fanfare/Ponent Mon
Unrated+
Genre: Slice-of-life/Seinen/Comedy
US $22.99, UK 11.99, 200 pgs., ISBN 9788496427426

When I originally started looking into works published by Fanfare earlier last year, I was surprised by both the small size of their catalog, and the immense depth of range that it represented. Disappearance Diary, winner of the 9th Japan Media Arts Festival Grand Prize in 2005, is a piece of work that not only exemplifies the Fanfare catalogue, but also shows how unique it truly is.

Disappearance Diary is an autobiography written by Hideo Azumi, a manga writer who, like most authors, has to live paycheck to paycheck. In two separate fits, he runs away from his home and becomes a vagabond, living off of trash and cigarette butts thrown on the sidewalk. He hides in public parks, sleeps in fields, steals vegetables from farms, and occasionally he is returned to civilization by those not privy to his mental breakdowns. In the final third of the book, Azumi relates his descent into alcoholism and forced rehabilitation.

One of the key features of Disappearance Diary is that, unlike so many other harrowing autobiographies, Azumi is willing to look at his life and laugh. If Azumi ever looked into the Abyss, the Abyss looking back would only see a giggling man, full of self-contempt and wry amusement. This tone gives Azumi’s autobiography a cheerful demeanor, despite its difficult content. It allows Azumi to write humor into humorless passages, and allows him to breathe life into a stagnating, perhaps decaying sense of self.

The art, like the tone of the book, is appropriately cheery. The characters are squat and cartoonish, removing the realism from the story, much like Charlz Schultz’s characters in Peanuts. Azumi lives in a world populated by creeps and judgmental passerby, but all of these people are encapsulated in caricatures that give Azumi the distance he needs to tell the story of his life. This distance is a key part of the narrative tone; without it, the book almost surely could have not been written, nor could it have been so harrowing.

While reading this book, it is difficult to realize how hard Azumi’s life was during the time that is illustrated for us, which is the real reason why Disappearance Diary is such an interesting piece of fiction. On one hand, I am cheering for him as he finds food and cigarettes out on the street, but at the same time, I am being deluded. The cheery statements that Azumi’s character make obfuscate the true meaning of the passages, and the cartoony artwork further distances the hellish world of homelessness and alcoholism for the eyes of the reader. Only by truly examining the message delivered by the story do we sense the despair lurking in Azumi, knowing that the possibility of future flight and a relapse into addictive behavior could be right around the corner.

“This manga has a positive outlook on life, and so it has been made with as much realism removed as possible.” With this opening, Hideo Azumi foreshadows the telling of a tale that weaves in and out of the most horrible years of his adult life. As a struggling manga artist, Azumi relates to us in Disappearance Diary the story of his adult life, and does so with a distance and emotional levity that at times borders on the inappropriate. I feel that this is of utmost importance. With his inappropriate look at a life troubled by alcoholism and homelessness, Hideo Azumi lays bare his troubles and allows us to dissect them, showing us a dark world tinged by rose-colored glasses.

Manga Widget Investigates: I Am A Hero

(This post has imagery that may be NSFW.)

Last week I finished up looking at Kodansha’s initial list of releases and found them to be… boring. Now that I’m finished looking over what is actually going to get published in the US, it’s time to daydream about manga that hasn’t been licensed yet. Since I am a sucker for manga award winners, and since they generally are less formulaic, more unique pieces, I’ve been daydreaming about the list of Manga Taisho nominees that was announced in January. My first delve into the Manga Taisho awards explored the world of Un Chocolatier de L’Amour Perdu, a josei manga about a pâtissier and his unrequited love, which sounded absolutely delicious. Going back to the Manga Taisho list (of which you can find a very nice synopsis here), we are going to look at one of the darker pieces of work that was nominated this year – I Am a Hero, by Kengo Hanazawa.

The Manga Taisho awards are sort of the odd man of awards given to manga in Japan. Unlike most manga awards, which are generally chosen by editors and mangaka, the Manga Taisho awards are chosen by booksellers who are in charge of selling manga in their specific stores. The Manga Taisho awards are also limited to works published in the year that the award is given, and can only be given to a series that has eight or less volumes. This means that the Manga Taisho awards generally promote newer work, and keep industry behemoths like One Piece and other shonen giants away from the limelight. The Manga Taisho panel also has the tendency to skew towards manga that are more eclectic and mature than normal manga, so you tend to see more seinen and josei series than shojo or shonen (although Bakuman did get nominated for the 3rd Taisho awards last year).

I Am a Hero is a psychological thriller/horror manga that features a 30+ year-old man who is working as a mangaka’s assistant and is trying to make it big with his own series. The author has some severe psychological problems, but he tries to overcome them and live a regular life. Things take a nosedive when a rampant virus which initially looks like the flu starts turning people into crazed zombies, and the world starts collapsing… maybe. From what I can tell, it seems fairly contentious whether or not the zombies are real, or if they’re part of the main character’s overarching psychosis.

The author of I Am a Hero, Kengo Hanazawa, has published a total of four series. His longest running, Boys on the Run, was a 10-volume series published in Big Comic Spirits, and seems like a mix up of Rocky and I’ll Give It My All… Tomorrow. Likewise, I Am a Hero is currently in print in Shogakukan‘s Big Comic Spirits, which is a weekly seinen magazine that is/was also the home of Oishinbo, Ikigami: The Ultimate Limit, and Even a Monkey Can Draw Manga. That’s quite a bit of variety, and the series currently being published in Big Comic Spirits seem to relish that.

I Am a Hero is reminiscent of some of the much darker work of Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service illustrator Housui Yamazaki. Both Mail and MPD Psycho published by Dark Horse in the USA immediately come to mind for their dark, disturbing horror. While I Am a Hero is published in Shogakukan‘s Big Comic Spirits, I have a feeling that a series like I Am a Hero could only gain traction in Viz Media‘s Signature line (which does feature Biomega, a sci-fi horror manga) or in Dark Horse‘s excellently curated manga line.

My Reaction to the Princess Knight, Kami no Shizuku Licenses

Last night, during the Anime News Network’s podcast, Ed Chavez announced that Vertical Inc. had acquired the licenses to translate and publish two manga that have been on many fans’ license request lists. The two series announced last night were:

Princess Knight, by Osamu Tezuka

Princess Knight is probably the manga that was the genesis for what we now know as shojo manga, and was printed three different collections in Japan. The series is three volumes long, which seems fairly standard for Vertical‘s boutique size and schedule. Amazon already has a preorder page up for the first volume, which says it will be released in October of 2011.

and;

Kami no Shizuku (The Drops of God), by Yuko and Shin Kibayashi (under the pseudonym of Tadashi Agi).

Kami no Shizuku merges my two favorite hobbies, wine making and manga, so I have been anxious to read and own this manga since I learned about it three years ago. Because of its subject matter (wine in general, but more importantly, its wine suggestions and evaluations) Kami no Shizuku has been used to increase sales of wine in Japan and has already been published in France. Vertical will release the 25+ volume series in two-volume ominbuses which will retail for around $14.95 apiece, a good value for manga. This publishing structure is similar to that of other omnibus style published series like Cross Game.

I have become more impressed with boutique publishing in recent months; big publications companies, like Viz Media and Kodansha are linked to a specific parent company and have to serve a higher power concerned with margins and turnover. While this is important for any publisher, small boutique publishing has more creative liberty to develop and publish unique, sometimes niche content. Vertical Inc. has shown that it is willing to take a chance on Drops of God, and that is something I never really expected one of the larger publishers to release. Because of their unique stance on publishing, they have released manga that other publishers probably wouldn’t touch, which is overall a positive thing for readers and fans.

Last night, when the license announcements were made, I literally jumped for joy. I have been waiting and requesting these series from publishers since the earliest parts of my blogging experience.  Vertical Inc. is a company that knows its products, and is very intent on creating books that have a good niche appeal. Taking what I thought would always just be a pipe dream of a manga and turning it into an actual English title has me extremely impressed, and ultimately, extremely appreciative to Vertical for taking the time to listen to readers. Their dedication to their product and fans will hopefully be rightfully rewarded.