Category Archives: reviews

Yona of the Dawn, Vol. 23

By Mizuho Kusanagi. Released in Japan as “Akatsuki no Yona” by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Viz Media. Translated by JN Productions, Adapted by Ysabet Reinhardt MacFarlane.

After escaping from the burning building, complete with another round of “Jesus Christ, Zeno, MUST YOU?” self-sacrifice, our heroes are ready to deal with the plot. Unfortunately, the plot is forcing them to do something that’s been a long time coming. For most of the beginning and middle of this series, the goal has been to hide Yona’s identity and have her and the others function as a rogue band of do-gooders while also learning more about the country where her father was (a pretty crappy) king. But sometimes things can’t be solved by anonymous bandits, and here Yona is forced to not only reveal who she actually is, but goes off to negotiate with Su-Won as herself, something that I’m sure will go well and not be a disaster at all. Unfortunately, we have to wait till Vol. 24 for the fallout. Again, though, Yona’s “beacon of hope shining in the darkness” personality trumps all subterfuge. Well, that and the fact that 3/4 of the cast are hostages.

We also meet Princess Kouren, Tao’s older sister, in the best possible way – Yona shoots down a bird that lands directly on her face. I expect we will get more from her in the next volume, but it’s worth noting that Tao here is allowed to have the longer view of trying to save more lives of her kingdom’s people (and it’s shown here that they’re really trying to conscript EVERYONE into the army here) because she has not been traumatized by the violence of the kingdom’s enemies. If you see all of your friends brutally murdered in front of your eyes, it is absolutely valid that you are not going to want to simply barter a peace treaty with those who did it. That said, I worry that she may end up needing to be killed by the plot in order to posthumously learn to let go. Let’s hope not.

Elsewhere, as I mentioned, most of Yona’s group are either seriously injured, captured, or both, allowing us to get a good dose of their captor, who has a truly disturbing slasher smile. I hope something bad happens to him, he is not a nice man. As for Yona, she’s pushing herself so hard she almost collapses, which is a shame, as it means she misses Hak murmuring some very important words to her. (There’s also a side story showing how few real friends she had as a child – two is the correct answer – and again you marvel how how much she’s been forced to change, and how she’s blossomed as a result. and just in case you worried there was no humor in this volume, there’s a hilarious side story where Gija, Sinha, and Yona all eat a mystery candy and turn violent. Yona, of course, being the reason this is so funny.

The best volumes make you want to read the next one right away, and that’s definitely the case here. Read it now.

The Economics of Prophecy: Dealing with Guild Politics in Another World

By Norafukurou and Rei Shichiwa. Released in Japan by Legend Novels (Kodansha). Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Hikoki.

I have to admit, if you asked me what the next volume of The Economics of Prophecy, a work whose core audience is made up of older men already in the Japanese workforce, would be about, “school festival arc” is not what would have sprung to mind. And yet our heroes are at a school for sons and daughters of guild nobility, and therefore it stands to reason that a festival would be just as cutthroat as anything else. Naturally, it’s once again the strong vs. the slightly less strong, with Ricardo (who presents himself as the weakest but is anything but) trying to walk a fine line so that he can get what he wants in the end. The fine line is the most interesting part of this book, as it becomes clear to the reader that denseness about women might not be Ricardo’s only fault; he doesn’t really seem to realize how deep into the political world he has to get till it’s spelled out for hi8m at the end.

As you might expect, the school festival is an excuse for the kids to show off their future inheritance, with the best rooms taken by the stronger family simply by dint of rewriting the rules. Ricardo and Mei do not have a booth (they are, after all, a mere copper family) but they do need to help Alfina the Prophecy Princess, who has been exiled to a courtyard because she has her own politics to deal with. Also, one of the lesser families’ heirs is Mei’s friend (though you get the sense that Mei is less and less thrilled with this as the weeks go on), and, most importantly, he happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and gets drawn in. That said, he has a plan. A plan that involves modernizing this kingdom’s concept of dining to take in the outdoor cafe and the single-plate lunch.

I noted the first volume was a bit dry, and that’s also a fault with the second volume: the start in particular is a massive economics lecture that will make you yearn for the plot to begin. Once it does, however, the book picks up considerably: the interfamily politics and Ricardo’s navigating through it all with ease is immensely fun (he’s just as OP as any other isekai hero, just in terms of economic theory and political savvy). He continues to be unaware that both Alfina and Mei are in love with him, and in fact explicitly notes that Alfina, due to his live lived in Japan added to his years here, is more of a niece to him. He’s also, however, of the impression that he can magically manipulate events behind the scenes to perfection, explain exactly how he did so, and then quietly go back to his honey company and keep plugging away. That is just not going to happen, as the families explain to him at the end. It’s amusing.

There’s setup for a third book towards the end, a book that, as of this review, has not come out in Japan. So it may be a while before we see more of this. Still, if you want less dungeon crawling and magical swords and more explanations of sunk cost fallacies, this is the series for you.

Adachi and Shimamura, Vol. 1

By Hitoma Iruma and Non. Released in Japan by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Molly Lee.

It is, to be honest, rare that a light novel catches me completely by surprise. For one thing, I tend to spoil myself as to what the content of a series is going to be. I thought I knew about this one. I knew it was an extremely popular yuri light novel series. I also knew it was supposed to be a bit boring. Both are true. The story begins with Adachi and Shimamura already knowing each other (though we get a later flashback to how they meet). They’re both delinquents who tend to cut class. Adachi, the black-haired girl, is seemingly stoic and unapproachable. Shimamura, who has dyed light brown hair, is more open and has more friends than the aloof Adachi, but also seems to have a disconnect when it comes to emotions. Seeing them flapping around in their interior monologue trying to connect is what’s meant to be the point of the book. That said, it doesn’t quite keep the reader’s attention. Then the girl in the spacesuit shows up…

So yes, this is my own fault. I knew that the author of this series has written a large number of other series for both Dengeki Bunko and other publishers (including the Bloom Into You light novel spinoffs). I had also heard of the much older series Ground Control to Psychoelectric Girl (Denpa Onna to Seishun Otoko), but didn’t realize that it was also by this author. And that series has, as one of its supporting cast… a girl who dresses in a spacesuit and has seemingly supernatural powers. In the context of that other series, which stars another girl who says she is an alien, Yashiro as a mysterious maybe alien with supernatural abilities works fine. But when she shows up here and starts hanging out in what is, let’s face it, the cast of K-On! without the band, it’s quite jarring. Especially when she takes over the scenes she’s in… and proves to be more interesting than the two leads.

Let’s get back to the title characters. Three fifths of the book is narrated by Shimamura, and is the poorer for it. I’m not sure what the author is really trying to convey with her headspace. She seems to be pretending to be a normal, outgoing high school girl to hide her own inner lack of empathy and interest, but she’s too good at it externally and too bad at it internally, so it doesn’t quite come off. She’s the reason the book is seen as dull. When the narrative shifts to Adachi, things pick up a great deal, as she has the actual character conflict – she’s in love with Shimamura, something she starts the book off denying (in the classic “not in a gay way or anything!” sense) but accepts, at least to herself, by the end of the book. I think she’d have confessed to Shimamura on their “date” if Yashiro hadn’t ruined her chances. Hopefully future books will give Shimamura the chance to develop beyond “how do I connect to other humans” as well.

So I am very fifty-fifty about this book. The most interesting character in it is from another series. The narrator for most of the book struggles to connect with not only everyone around her but also the reader. On the other hand, Adachi’s inner monologue of panicked love epiphany was genuinely involving. I’ll be reading another volume, but so far it’s more Adachi than Shimamura for me.