The Princess of Convenient Plot Devices, Vol. 1

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By Mamecyoro and Mitsuya Fuji. Released in Japan as “Watashi wa Gotsugou Shugi na Kaiketsu Tantou no Oujo de aru” by B’s-LOG Bunko. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Sarah Henshaw.

When you’re talking about a genre, it’s never quite just the same thing. No, not even isekai series starring Potato-kun protagonists. There’s mix and match, there’s variations, there’s ways to make this different enough that we don’t get sued. And some genres cross over with others. For example, one genre I quite like is “everyone thinks that the protagonist is being ridiculously clever and crafty, when they’re really just improvising and winging it”. Tearmoon Empire is probably the best current example, but we’ve seen a few others. And, of course, there are BL fantasy novels, where true love is found even if you have to rewrite reality so that the kingdom is predominately gay. And, of course, there are villainess books, where our heroine ends up being accused of things she either never did, or only did in the source material. Put them all together and you’ve got this series, which asks: how would a kingdom run on BL really work out?

Maki was a girl who loved BL novels, particularly a series called The Noble King. It features a kingdom where the king is married to another man, and his son the prince is also in love with a man. In the novels, the prince’s younger sister, Octavia, was a big supporter of theirs, a perfect side character for a BL series. But now Mari has died and is reincarnated *as* Octavia, and has to deal with how the writer manages to have a working dynasty with all the nobility being gay: she will be married off (possibly to a not-gay man, possibly as a beard), produce a child, and then give him to her older brother and have him raise the child as his own. Needless to say, this does not delight Octavia AT ALL. She’s going to find a man of her own! There’s just one slight problem… everyone else thinks she has designs to take over the throne. And is possibly evil.

Octavia, in this first volume, is not an airhead like Katarina Claes. She sees her problem and takes actions to solve it. But she’s also not a clever genius like a lot of other Villainess heroines. Most of her action taking is spur of the moment and improvised, and sometimes quickly regretted. She is, in other words, a normal person reacting the way a normal person would to being in a novel that she’s very familiar with… to a point. (She died after Book 5, so has missed some later stuff.) Unfortunately, to a noble family who are used to everyone acting like they were born into nobility and set in very defined roles… she’s incredibly hard to read, and her actions frequently make no sense. Such as hiring as her new bodyguard a man who is likely an assassin. Or being ambivalent about her older brother’s relationship. Or… in political terms, she’s a bomb that hasn’t gone off yet. This provides terrific tension, which is offset by her narrative voice, which is very “chatty teen girl”.

Basically, this is excellent. It also moves a lot slower than I expected, as we only cover about three days in this first book. We don’t even get a ball where Octavia can be publicly shamed! Possibly next time?

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.