Monthly Archives: February 2017

The Faraway Paladin: The Boy in the City of the Dead

By Kanata Yanagino and Kususaga Rin. Released in Japan as “Saihate no Paladin” by Overlap. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by James Rushton.

So far J-Novel Club has about five or six titles going, and most of them are light novels that have one thing in common: they have that ‘light novel’ feel to them. There’s the obvious ones, like titles that are far too long, and Big Sisters and Little Sisters galore, but even the odder choices like Grimgar or Occultic;Nine still feel like a Japanese anime/manga franchise. The Faraway Paladin is an exception to this rule. It is technically a light novel, in that it was published in Japan and has intermittent illustrations, but there the similarities end. Instead, what The Faraway Paladin does is give you a dark fantasy, a coming-of-age story, an epic battle to save the souls of your adopted family, and easily the best book they’ve released to date.

I take that back, there is one other common Japanese light novel trope: our hero, Will, is actually a reincarnation of a Japanese boy, a loser shut-in who seemingly never tried to achieve anything, never mourned the death of his parents, and died alone and unfulfilled. Now he’s reincarnated as a baby… but with his old memories. That said, except for one point towards the end of the book, this is pretty irrelevant. It’s there to allow him to narrate the story from infancy without worrying about tone, and to show off why he has such heroic resolve to grow and learn as fast as possible: he regrets his old life, and wants to do better. Helping him are the three who are raising him: a skeleton, a mummy and a ghost. They teach him magic, teach him fighting, teach him basic daily life skills, and turn him into a strapping young lad ready to set out into the world. Then their past catches up…

I’ll be honest, I was expecting ‘raise the boy to be a warrior’ to take up maybe the first quarter of this book, but no, the entire first volume is devoted to his upbringing. This is a good thing, as it lets the plot breathe, and gives you time to get to know each of these characters. The cast is deliberately small, and each person gets a good amount of development, angst, and overcoming said angst. In the second half, things get a lot more action packed, as well as darker in tone, and the pace picks up in an appropriate way. The resolution is somewhat telegraphed, but not in a way that makes it predictable, more in an “ah, I knew it!” sort of way. Most of all, the book is simply well-written, and everyone is likeable and fun to read about. Even the ghost, who can be a grumpy old cuss. (Terrific translation, as well – probably the best of the company’s to date.)

Basically, this is a good novel to give to people who don’t like all the tropes associated with light novels – they’re absent here. And it’s simply a good fantasy in general. (You can tell I really like it as I’m holding myself back from giving everything away in the review.) Highly recommended, and I look forward to seeing the direction the series takes.

Umineko: When They Cry, Vol. 15

Story by Ryukishi07; Art by Hinase Momoyama. Released in Japan in two separate volumes as “Umineko no Naku Koro ni: Dawn of the Golden Witch” by Square Enix, serialized in the magazine GFantasy. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Stephen Paul.

Warning: this reviews mentions the biggest spoiler in Umineko, which I have been dancing around until now. I won’t mention it in this first paragraph, but it’s hard not to review this final omnibus of the arc and discuss it, as it ends up being a major part of the climax. Before we get to that, though: I’ve talked before about how Ryukishi07 loves a good old fashioned shonen battle at heart, and a great deal of this book is just that. Various characters try to attack Beatrice and get blown away by various other characters, as you realize how ridiculously huge the cast has become by now. Erika finally loses, and judging by the “roll call” at the end of the book, seemingly abandoned to a watery grave by Bernkastel. And Ryukishi still can’t resist connecting Umineko and Higurashi, even though Featherine and Hanyuu are as alike as two very unalike things.

(I am very irritated with that front cover image, by the way. I know it’s not Yen’s fault, and that the Japanese licensor chose which cover to use and which to hide. But it makes me sad that the best cover in the series is relegated to the color page inside.)

For those trying to figure out what’s going on in Umineko, the manga has been a bit more obvious in its hints than the visual novel, even back in earlier arcs. For this particular arc, we’ve spent a long time debating why it is that Shannon, Kanon, and Beatrice need magic in order to have their love fulfilled, and this volume explicitly says it’s because they are not a whole person. Meanwhile, as predicted in the last volume, Battler is trapped in a logic error of his own making, trapped inside the guest room till he can figure out how to get out without disturbing the chain lock, duct tape seals, or anything else. The answer ends up being that Kanon, being dead (Shannon won the big duel), can now come free Battler and take his place. And then “erase himself” by magic. There’s only one way for this all to work, and that’s by realizing that we’re talking about IDENTITIES when we discuss people on the island, not BODIES. Shannon and Kanon cannot both love without magic help as they’re the same person. And both are also a third person – Beatrice.

This works a lot better than you’d imagine if you think about what is “real” in the books and what takes place in an imaginary fantasy world. We’ve gone on and on about “magic” being a conceit, and that’s in full force here. It’s also what allows Fledgling Beato to take up the place of her old self and become the “real”, haughty Beatrice – though that mask slips much of the time, and there’s still some creepy incestual vibes between her and Battler that is the big downside of this arc and I kind of hate. In any case, we may have figured out the gimmick behind one of the biggest mysteries of Umineko, but we’re still completely in the dark as to the motive? What led to this? Was it Battler’s sin (remember that)? Was it because everyone needed a lot of money right now? What drove Beatrice, whoever she may identify as, to the events of 1986?

We will hopefully find out soon (though Yen hasn’t scheduled it yet) with the 7th arc of Umineko: Requiem of the Golden Witch. I’m sure it will be happy and filled with good times – after all, Bernkastel will be in charge of this arc. What could possibly go wrong?

Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, Vol. 1

By Hiro Ainana and shri. Released in Japan by Fujimi Shobo. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jenny McKeon.

For all that we talk about the cliche of the “transported to another world” genre (‘isekai’ in Japan), we haven’t actually seen too many pure examples of the genre itself in the light novels we’ve had translated. There have been slight variations – DanMachi essentially works on the same principles, only Bell is not from another world. SAO and Log Horizon have people trapped in literal game worlds. We’ve seen deconstructions, like Re: Zero and Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash. And next month we’ll see an outright parody with KonoSuba. Even this series I’m reviewing today, which comes closest to the original form, has a variation in that the hero is a late-20s salaryman in his old teenage body, and thus his thoughts are more of an adult’s. And honestly, there’s a reason we haven’t seen too many of the ‘standard’ types of isekai novels: they’re standard male wish-fulfillment.

Our hero is Satou, a game designer who falls asleep after a rough coding session and wakes up in a desert-like area where he’s about to be killed by lizard people. He thinks he’s dreaming and imagining he’s in a game, mostly as he can see his stats on a screen in front of him. So he tries the stupidly overpowered move that he and his boss were discussing earlier, which causes a giant meteor shower to take out the enemy. And then a bigger one to take out a dragon god. Doing this levels Satou up to absolutely ridiculous levels, and since he also has a Bag of Infinite Holding and a giant pile of money… even most self-insert fanfics don’t go this far. He goes to the nearest city, which is battling wyverns and demons and such, and slowly learns about the world he’s now in. Very, very slowly.

The difficulty with these male power fantasy books is that the hero is meant to be one that the reader can just swap out and substitute with themselves, and as a result can’t have too many signifying traits that might differ from said reader. This means that the novel’s big weakness is Satou, who is a giant yawning void where a protagonist should be. Since he’s got a teenage body but his mind is that of his old 29-year-old game developer self, he’s rather calm and stoic about things like love. And since he WAS a game designer, he can handle most of the cliches that come his way to try to kill him, especially as he’s got his God Stats, his Unlimited Items, and his Unlimited Money. Stoic emotionless heroes can work in the right context – Overlord and The Irregular at Magic High School have similar types. But there needs to be something behind them, something other than “well, here’s a monster, splat, OK, next?”. Also, he needs to stop telling everyone he’s not a lolicon every other line, or folks are going to get suspicious.

As for the rest of the book, well, it was all right. I never thought I’d say this about any work ever, but: this book is crying out for a tsundere to get angry with the hero. The female knight Satou saves falls for him immediately, and the three slaves he takes on (Satou is against slavery, but circumstances are such that he can’t do much about it) are all fairly meek and willing to do anything he says. If there is one bright light in this book, it is the stat updates that accompany Satou whenever he does anything, which range from the practical to the hilarious, and are easily the best part of the book. If you want to see what a garden variety isekai work is, you may want to give Death March a try. Everyone else is better off sticking with the subversions, deconstructions and parodies, though.