5 Centimeters per Second: one more side

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By Makoto Shinkai and Arata Kanoh. Released in Japan by Enterbrain. Released in North America by Vertical, Inc. Translated by Kristi Fernandez.

(This review is based on a review copy provided by the publisher)

I hadn’t initially planned to review this, mostly as I’ve never seen the 5 Centimeters per Second movie, and if I read the manga it was so long ago I’ve forgotten it. But I’m familiar with the author from the your name spinoff he wrote, which I enjoyed, and he also has a Voices of a Distant Star novel coming out over here this summer. So I gave it a try, and I’m glad I did. I knew going in from the start that the overall mood of the book would be ‘wistful verging on bleak’, of course. This is Makoto Shinkai we’re talking about, the creator who surprised everyone by NOT giving your name a bittersweet ending. 5 Centimeters per Second tells the story of a boy, Takaki, and a girl, Akari, who meet as kids, fall in love, separate, try to stay in touch, meet one more time in an ultra romantic scene… and then never meet again. This book tells the story from different perspectives.

I’ll be honest here, I liked Akari a lot more than I liked Takaki. This is deliberate, I suspect. It’s one reason why I think my favorite part of the book was the start, showing us Akari’s perspective of life as a shy, introverted child who had to transfer schools. Her emotions are raw, and mention is made of wanting to “disappear” but not actually having the wherewithal to kill herself, which is really bleak given she’s about nine. Transferring schools is a lot more common in Japan than it is in the West, and the lessons given here on how to fit in – and how hard it is – read very true. Takaki is at his best here, helping Akari with some sound advice and an ear to lend, but even at this age we can see how he tends to withdraw from her when things get too close.

The second part of the book is Takaki’s, showing his middle school life after he moves down South to Tanegashima. He meets a nice girl who falls for him hard, and he clearly likes her, but is also deliberately not doing anything. This compares nicely to the third part of the book, which has interlocking POVs, where he meets a nice woman as an adult who falls for him hard and he clearly likes her but is also deliberately not doing anything. Takaki seems trapped in that one moment he had with Akari at the station when they were thirteen (twelve? Around there), and it’s only at the very, very end of the book that he seems to grow past it. Akari, on the other hand, blossoms into a confident, happy young woman, marries a nice guy, and has a wonderful life. Seeing this made the ending less bittersweet than I’d expected. Sure, young love didn’t work out. That happens all the time. But, helped by Takaki’s advice as a child, Akari has become a wonderful young woman.

I’m not sure how this complements the movie, but I’m pretty sure fans of it will want to pick this up. The prose is gorgeous and evocative, worth the price of the book alone. I’ll definitely want to get more of this author’s take on Shinkai’s works.

Captain Harlock: The Classic Collection, Vol. 3

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By Leiji Matsumoto. Released in Japan as “Uchuu Kaizoku Captain Harlock” by Akita Shoten, serialized in the magazine Play Comic. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Zack Davisson. Adapted by Snati Whitesides.

In many respects this is Daiba’s story more than Harlock’s, and we’ve been following his journey and not really going back to show how Harlock got started, got the crew together, etc. That said, just because we started with Daiba doesn’t mean we get a satisfying ending for him – or anyone. A lot of Matsumoto series, I’ve found, tend to best be described as “a cutout of a larger, more epic tale”, even when they’re being epic tales themselves. And so this volume wraps up with not much having changed, except that we’ve possibly found the Mazon are more similar to humanity than anyone expected – except, of course, the reader. The Arcadia, with its main cast all intact, set sail to further adventures and battles, which we, as a reader will not see, because Matsumoto wrapped up the manga at this point, probably so he could concentrate more on Galaxy Express 999.

A lot of the back half of this volume is concerned with the life and death of Tochiro, who frequently appears posthumously in the Harlockverse (he was in Queen Emeraldas as well) but rarely shows up in the flesh. His death looms over everyone, and is handled with such reverence and dignity that when a rogue Mazon tries to attack Arcadia while they’re at his gravesite, the Queen literally throws her off the ship, where she falls to her death, because let’s face it, these are pirate ships more than spaceships. It’s a bit ridiculous, but fits with the overall mood of the book, which is brooding, somber, and oh so serious. Aside from the occasional stab at humor, such as everyone’s collections falling over in a battle, or Kei getting fall down drunk at one point, the laughs of the last two books are mostly gone. (There is a short Harlock/Emeraldas story added after the main events here, which is meant to show them as almost Rule 63 versions of each other. I didn’t enjoy it much, but it DOES have humor.)

As for Daiba, well, he’s trying hard to grow and learn everything as fast as possible, and that’s not going very well, though he is rather clever. Harlock seems to be grooming him as a sort of heir at times. He also helps to discover the Mazon’s involvement with the Ancient Pyramids, as the Wagnerian myth takes a slight detour and also shows off the Mazon as sort of dandelion spores that will gradually infect everything in the galaxy. Not the world’s most original plot, but that’s fine, as you’re reading a story about space pirates, so originality is not why you’re here. The dialogue continues to be ripe, even with the seriousness, and I think it may actually work even better if you read it aloud in a stentorian voice, sort of like William Daniels as Captain Harlock.

The modern-day reboot of the series, Dimensional Voyage, is still going strong, and adding a bit more depth and characterization that isn’t in this original. But if you want the definitive mood for Harlock, it’s hard to beat this three-volume set, which is dramatic and stentorian to the last. A classic slice of manga history.

Amagi Brilliant Park, Vol. 4

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By Shouji Gatou and Yuka Nakajima. Released in Japan by Enterbrain. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Elizabeth Ellis.

I’m still trying to figure out why I find Amagi Brilliant Park so hard to like but difficult to drop. Part of it may simply be an issue that I have with several light novel series, notably Index: the author is trying to be funny but I’m not laughing. As with the third volume, this book consists of one long story and several shorter ones. The long story gives us a deeper look at Bando Biino, one of the part-time staffers we’ve met before, whose gag was that she always wound up bloody due to accidents. The story behind this could actually be very depressing and chilling if the author wanted to (and the afterword hints that he was talked out of doing so), as it turns out that she’s under a very nasty curse that influences all of those around her. The trouble is that the resolution to this is a) a sexually harassing doctor who isn’t as funny as the author imagines, and b) a ritual that is really a parody of TV quiz shows, which is DIRE.

The problem is that when the author isn’t trying to be funny, this is actually rather good. Biino’s situation is horrible, and seeing her perky optimism slowly break down is devastating. We even get some depth added to Tiramii, the lecherous dog mascot thing, who takes a non-lecherous (mostly) shine to Biino and resolves to help her. There’s also some intriguing stuff with Seiya, who spends much of the story irritated at Biino but not to the extent that he actually does anything about it, which is hinted to be due to his strong resolve – the curse can’t make him abuse her. And then we see Biino’s brother, who has now been released from an institution he was put into after trying to kill her, now out, recovered, and ready to love his sister – they’re not really related! – and you just have to facepalm. It feels like I’m reading something where the dials are set in precisely the wrong positions to be fun.

The rest of the short stories run along the same lines. The best shows a curious (and possibly jealous) Isuzu tailing Seiya as he goes to a meeting with what turns out to be his stepsister, who is trying (unsuccessfully) to patch things up between him and his father. Seiya is normally default obnoxious, and it’s nice to see that this comes from a very real difficult childhood, which is not simply easily resolved by a cute little sister type. The one story played entirely for comedy involves one of the park’s staff (a dinosaur mascot thing) trying to make a promotional video of the park, and being told to make it less dull. This is done for pure comedy, which sometimes does actually work (Isuzu’s ongoing reactions) and sometimes doesn’t (everything else).

It’s possible that I’m just a grumpy cuss, and certainly those who watched the anime and enjoyed it should like this. But I really think the author’s strengths lie in more dramatic writing, and all Amagi Brilliant Park does is make me miss Full Metal Panic.