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Qualia the Purple

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By Hisamitsu Ueo and Shirou Tsunashima. Released in Japan as “Murasakiiro no Qualia” by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Airship. Translated by Daniel Komen. Adapted by Carly Smith.

I actually had to double check the dates after finishing this volume, to see which came first: Qualia the Purple or Puella Magi Madoka Magica. The answer is Qualia came first, by about two years. Still, folks who are familiar with the main plot of PMMM are going to find certain similarities to the main plot of Qualia, even if the two are handled quite differently. Qualia the Purple doesn’t involve Magical Girls, but it is a hard SF series about trying to save someone over and over again and being unable to fix things no matter how many tries are made, as well as the dangers of grief and obsession. The first third is a short story that won an award, the last two thirds are the expansion for the light novel. The last two thirds are the reason to read the book, but I would not blame readers who stop after Page 30 or so. The start of this book is deadly boring, and while the plot twist explains why, it’s still boring.

The girl on the cover, and the center of the book, is Yukari, a young “genius” middle school girl who sees everything as robots. When she’s looking at someone else, she sees them as a robot. This has led to difficulties. The narrator, and the actual protagonist of the series, is Manabu, aka “Gaku-chan”, an athletic girl in Yukari’s class who is her best friend and is, at least initially, the “normal” girl in the story. That begins to change when Yukari is drawn into the search for a serial killer. It changes even more when there’s a new transfer student in the second chunk of the book, Alice, who is determined to befriend Yukari and have her join an organization for geniuses. And everything completely falls apart when Yukari is killed, and the REAL plot kicks in.

Intellectually, I think this book is excellent… once you get past Manabu explaining Yukari to the reader in cute ways over the dire first 30 pages. The climax to the “short story” part of the book was well handled and surprising, and the hard SF gobbledygook that infests the second part (and there is an awful lot of that, be aware) is at least vaguely understandable. Manabu’s growing desperation and the lengths she will go to in order to try to save Yukari are jaw-dropping, and I can appreciate the writing quality and the thought that went into the plot itself. Emotionally, I sort of hated this. Mostly as I really, really started to hate Manabu. She does not skimp on telling us the things she does and the people she manipulates in order to do what she is doing, and some of it (particularly Alice’s subplot) are frankly loathsome. It’s on purpose, of course, but that doesn’t mean I want to read it. There’s also the problem, which Yukari herself brings up, that everything is being done for her sake but she’s not allowed to make the choice herself. Yukari ends up being a goal rather than a character in the last half of the book.

Of course, I’m supposed to feel all this. That’s the point. I do recommend this book, which is like a puzzle in many ways, and the way that Manabu’s narration changes as she does, sometimes from line to line, is amazing. Just… it’s not a feel good book.

Culinary Chronicles of the Court Flower, Vol. 8

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By Miri Mikawa and Kasumi Nagi. Released in Japan as “Ikka Kōkyū Ryōrichō” by Kadokawa Beans Bunko. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Hunter Prigg.

I hope people don’t read all my reviews of this series in order, because I inevitably end up repeating the same thing over and over again: this is a series about food. It’s there in the title, where it says these are Rimi’s CULINARY chronicles, not her rise to power or her romantic adventures. Likewise, you know that eventually in these books there’s going to be a big crisis, and it’s going to be resolved by a meal. OK, in this particular volume it’s not actually resolved, but it’s at least defused, which is good enough. Rimi spends a majority of this book in hiding, which means that she can’t say her name, and her identity is constantly called into question, given that she’s very bad at hiding it. Who is she? The future empress? The court flower? A poison that will destroy the entire country? None of those, really. She’s a cook. Food – and not just any food, but the RIGHT food – is how she interacts with others.

We pick up where we left off last time, with Rimi kidnapped by the Chancellor, who locks her in an old building on a far away estate, where he will quietly kill her once he makes arrangements. Fortunately, before he can do that, she’s rescued by a passing hottie (which feels ludicrously unrealistic even by the standards of this series, but hey). What’s more, the hottie is the very same person who’s being recommended to be the new Minister of Works. Now we have The Emperor desperately trying to find Rimi, Shusei desperately trying to find Rimi, the Chancellor, once he discovers she’s gone, desperately trying to find Rimi, and her mysterious benefactor being understandably unwilling to let her go because Rimi refuses to say who she is. In other words, situation normal for the Court Flower books.

Much as I would like it to be kicked slightly to the side, there’s only one OTP in this series, and it’s Rimi and Shusei. They reunite here, and Rimi opens up and admits that she’s still in love with him, but it’s hard to get past sheer male stubbornness, especially when said male thinks that he’s really being political. Frustration levels are high. On the bright side, the new character, Ryo Renka, is wonderful, an excellent addition to the cast who I hope we see more of. Ryo is also deeply tied into the past of the previous generation, which also includes Shusei’s father and the Chancellor, and it’s that past that provides the clue to help Rimi escape her deadly fate. I enjoyed the fact that this tim around the food has to be made in a rush and sloppily – because that’s how it was made originally by the amateurs who cooked it. It’s all about the vibe.

This has three volumes to go, and I expect civil war before the end. But it will be civil war with cooking, no doubt. Still greatly enjoying this, one of the strongest volumes in the series.

BLADE & BASTARD: Warm ash, Dusky dungeon, Vol. 1

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By Kumo Kagyu and so-bin. Released in Japan as “Blade & Bastard: Hai wa Atatakaku, Meikyū wa Honogurai” by Dre Novels. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Sean McCann.

One of the highlights of J-Novel Club’s appearance at Anime NYC this year was the announcement of a partnership with Drecom, a video game company that has recently been expanding into other media markets. There are several novels they could have chosen to start off this new partnership, and I for one was hoping for “I’m a Pharmacist Witch and a Part-Time Divorce Attorney”, but I can see why they chose to go with BLADE & BASTARD. First of all, it hadn’t come out in Japan yet – this book got a release in North America on the same date it came out in Japan. Secondly, it has a strong pedigree: the author is better known for Goblin Slayer, and the artist for Overlord. And the novels themselves take place in the world of Wizardry, the popular RPG series. With all that said, how does it hold up as a light novel if you don’t game and don’t really care for Goblin Slayer *or* Overlord? You’ve come to the right person to ask.

A town named Scale has a massive and dangerous dungeon. It’s filled with monsters and treasure, both of which also bring easy death. Our supposed protagonist is Iarumas, a highly competent but loathed man who wanders the dungeons collecting corpses, taking their stuff, and bringing them back to be revived by temple nun Aine. He has no memory of his past, and tries to go deeper and deeper in order to reconnect to it. Over the course of the book, he’s joined by Garbage, a feral girl who speaks only in barks and woofs but is excellent with a sword, and Raraja, a young put-upon thief who is probably the ACTUAL protagonist here. They explore the dungeon, trying to gain experience and also see what’s actually going on with Garbage, who – like Iarumas – has an obscure but important past.

If you’re looking for dark fantasy, this is a solid choice, as you’d expect from this author. The first volume also has 100% less sexual assault and fanservice than Goblin Slayer, which I count as another big plus. Iarumas is a bit too much of a brooding cipher for me to really latch on to, but Raraja’s journey from starving and easily tricked young boy to a solid adventurer in his own right is one of the two highlights of the book. The other highlight is Aine, a nun who uses religion to justify a mercenary streak and really, really loves swords and killing things with swords. (The narrative chooses to tell us – over and over again, it’s weird – that elves like Aine have normal human lifespans in this world.) The problematic part of the book is Garbage, who acts throughout like a dog – her only dialogue is barking, whining, and howling. The bit of backstory we get of her helps explain this a bit, but it’s near the end of the book, and you’d be forgiven for thinking she’s there for a bizarre kind of reader fetish before this. Perhaps future books will help her grow more human.

So yes, despite the constant death, this is less grim than I’d expected, and has a lively cast. A must-read for fans of the author, and not bad for fans of dark game tie-in fantasy.