Our Dreams at Dusk: Shimanami Tasogare, Vol. 1

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By Yuhki Kamatani. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hibana. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jocelyne Allen. Adapted by Ysabet MacFarlane.

I had heard a great deal of buzz about this title when it was licensed and before, but hadn’t really experienced it beyond people on Tumblr posting pictures of some of the stunning artistic concepts that form part of its story. Having now read the first volume, I remain deeply impressed with the art, but also drawn in by the story and characters. Our Dreams at Dusk gives us a look at LGBT people in Japan and their attempts to deal with these feelings that society – and their own family and peers – tell them is shameful. At its heard is a community founded by the very mysterious “Someone-san”, whose name we don’t know but who has brought together people who need to be able to confess their feelings to, well, someone. It can’t keep being bottled up and repressed. As we see in this first volume, some are more successful than others. And just because you “come out” doesn’t mean your problems are over.

Tasuku is our protagonist, who is high school kid who we fist meet when he’s debating whether he should leap to his death from a high wall. Flashbacks show that someone at high school grabbed his phone and found his browser history, and now are asking if he’s into “gay porn”. He denies it, using a slur he detests, but the truth is that he is gay, though he hasn’t – and feels he cannot – tell anyone or his life will be over. Just the thought of having to return to school the next day drives him to the brink. Before he can do anything, though, he sees a person leap out of a window much higher than where he is. Rushing to the building they were in, he doesn’t find the jumper, but his blurting out that “someone fell” leads him to Someone-san and the group there. Over the course of the book, he opens up to some of them, clashes with others, and continues to go to school, where his crush is on the volleyball team.

Of course, the ensemble cast is important as well. We meet an older man who seems to love Tchaikovsky, a tween-ish child who seems to dislike Tasuku on sight, the friendly and hard-working Utsumi, and Haruko and Saki, a lesbian couple who are still having some issues – Haruko has come out to her family and friends, and dealt with the fallout, while Saki still hasn’t said anything to her family. We also see that the group is not a perfect, all-loving conclave – Saki trying to drag Tasuku into her argument with Haruko shatters the mood a bit. And there is, as I noted, the art, which for the most part is elegant and expressive, but every once in a while shows us a two-page spread of artistic abandon trying to show the torment and desires in the main characters’ hearts. It’d be worth reading the series just for that – but we’re fortunate yo have much more to it.

There’s certainly more to this story, which recently ended in Japan at its fourth volume. I suspect the second one will deal with the kid who clearly does not like Tasuku at all. In the meantime, believe the hype – this is definitely worth your time and money.

The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 13

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By Satoshi Wagahara and 029. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Kevin Gifford.

I’ve said for a while now that this series does a good job of having romantic interests in it but sort of keeping it on the back burner rather than being a full-blown romantic comedy. Well, that changes with this volume, which devotes a large chunk to our heroines and how they feel – in this case, Chiho, who has now confessed to Maou TWICE but still hasn’t gotten much of anything from him, and Rika, who is in love with Ashiya and decides to do something about it when he invites her out for dinner and cellphone buying. Things arguably don’t go well for either of them, but in Chiho’s case there’s a larger issue, which is that she worries that soon she’s going to have to do other human stuff – study for exams, go to college, etc. – and will not see her supernatural friends anymore. Especially given Laila is still trying to get them on board with her big project, which could take a month to complete… or a hundred years.

There are a lot of confrontations in this book, and it’s interesting that some of them we only hear about secondhand. We see a teary Chiho run into Suzuno, but their conversation is heard second-hand later on, and Maou being “punished” for upsetting Chiho is also off screen (well, the setup, anyway). I’m not sure if this is just because the author is trying to keep the books to a certain length, but it is somewhat odd. We do get a great conversation between Chiho and Rika, two characters who are both best friends with Emilia but rarely interact. I worried that Rika and Ashiya’s date would also be off screen, but we do see that, and also Ashiya rejecting her… in fact, he tries to do the “I am too scary, please never see me again” thing, but Rika’s too smart to fall for that, though he is pretty damn scary. I did enjoy seeing Rika tell Chiho that she could possibly be the exception to the “demons don’t have human lovers” thing.

As for the main plot, Laila provides most of the humor in this volume in her desperate attempts to explain why she needs Maou and Emilia’s help. We first hear about the issues via a term paper (no, really, that’s how it reads), and it helps us to understand why everyone is so wary of her – she’s been living on Earth, but is she just an angel in disguise, or is she actively trying to fit in and be human like the others? We eventually find out it’s the latter, and why she’s been so wary of taking anyone to her apartment, in a joke that you can see a mile away but is no less satisfying. It does, however, lead to the big reveal, which is that what Laila is asking will take forever, and some of the people involved are normal humans who will grow old and die. But Maou isn’t… and neither, it turns out, is Emilia, whose half-Angel background means she could live a lot longer than anticipated.

In the end, Maou tries to be nicer about it, but still hasn’t responded to Chiho’s resolve. He can’t keep avoiding it forever, and it’s not as if the answer is “I like Emilia instead”, as he doesnt. If anything, he’s in love with his work. Which is appropriate for this series. What happens next? Can’t wait to find out. Sure hope the next volume isn’t a collection of short stories or something.

Penguin Highway

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By Tomihiko Morimi. Released in Japan by Kadokawa Shoten. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Cunningham.

For once, the book came first here. Yen has started a side business of publishing novelizations based on famous anime movies, but Penguin Highway was a novel turned into a movie. The prose is one of the best reasons to pick it up, as its narrator may be ten years old but he thinks that he’s a precise, logical scientist, and the book has fun with him sounding like this most of the time but sometimes letting the child come through. To Aoyama’s credit, he is pretty damn smart, though his two friends are no slouches either. I don’t remember doing quite as much scientific experimentation when I was their age, but then I was always more arts than sciences. The book helpfully is both, as the basic premise involves things such as eddies in the space-time continuum, but also has the sheer beauty, which must have looked great animated, of a can of Coke transforming into a penguin bit by bit.

As noted, Aoyama is smart and knows it, and tries not to get too egotistical but frequently fails, especially in his narrative headspace. He spends the days hanging out with best friend Uchida and fellow intellectual Hamamoto, avoiding the bullying of Suzuki and his two minions (why is it always one bully and two minions?), and getting his teeth cleaned as much as possible because he has a massive crush on the dental assistant, who is never named but is called “The Lady” throughout. Things are normal till one day, a bunch of penguins suddenly appear in a vacant lot. They don’t seem too bothered by being in Japan rather than Antarctica. Even more disturbing, a clearing in a local forest has The Sea, a giant sphere of water that seems to be influencing local topography. More things to analyze and write down, but also dangerous. And there are blue whales? And creatures that The Lady/Aoyama are calling Jabberwocks. Why is all this happening/ And how does it tie in with The Lady?

The plot is good, but Aoyama’s narrative is the best reason to read it. I started off the book laughing at him, as he sounded very much like a snooty fourth-grader, but as the book went on I really started to be drawn into his world. He is very smart about logical and scientific things, though when it comes to matters of the heart he’s lagging way behind, as even his best friend Uchida is able to see why Hamamoto is mad at him. For much of the book The Lady remains something of an enigma to us, and there are a few red herrings thrown around that are brushed off when the truth comes out (The Lady’s memories of her past, in particular). Also, loved Aoyama and Hamamoto’s dads, who both do their best to fully support their children so long as they don’t run into danger (which they do here, repeatedly).

The story ends on a somewhat bittersweet note, as with the best Japanese novels. It also has an afterword by famous manga author Moto Hagio discussing Aoyama and his tendency to be too clever by half. In the end, I don’t really have much to say about Penguin Highway except it was a really good book, and I’m glad I read it.