Kitaro: Kitaro’s Yokai Battles

By Shigeru Mizuki. Released in Japan as “Gegege no Kitaro” by Kodansha and Shogakukan, serialized in various magazines. Released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly. Translated by Zack Davisson.

This is not the first time that we’ve seen Shigeru Mizuki write himself and his family into a manga. Heck, it’s not even the first time he’s been in Kitaro. But the story “Oboro Guruma”, which is the highlight of this volume, really takes it further and involves Mizuki in the most metatextual way possible. At a coffeeshop he’s going to to avoid work and family (remember, no one puts himself down quite like Mizuki does), he runs afoul of the yakuza, but is saved by… Kitaro and Nezumi Otoko, who are in the same coffeeshop. He brings them home and lets them stay with his family, and they start to bond with the local neighbors. But then the entire town is covered in a strange gas, isolating it from the rest of Japan. The story alternates between what’s actually happening (it’s a yokai – try to contain your shock) and how Mizuki is dealing with it (by being somewhat weak and lazy – again, try to contain your shock).

Every single review of these titles I seem to talk about Nezumi Otoko, so I will confine myself this time to noting that the volume opens with him seeing Kitaro on a horse, hitting him over the head with a club, dope slapping him, and stealing the horse. It’s so beautifully in character I wanted to cry. Instead, though, I will talk about Kitaro, who actually isn’t at his best here. Kitaro tends to be a cypher at the best of times, and while he can sometimes be pretty righteous for the most part he tends to go with the flow in a stoic sort of way. The usual Kitaro way of fighting is to somehow get killed/beaten up, come back in a weird supernatural way, and then find a way to defeat the yokai that did him harm. In this volume, though, he really seems to be put through the wringer, and there’s less of him being clever.

Kitaro as a manga tends to be somewhat silly, particularly in the resolutions, and this one tops itself quite a bit. I was highly amused at Kitaro almost getting killed by having teeth spit at him, and the poop gags that tend to be rife in shonen manga of this period are here as well, as at one point the victims of a yokai are excreted. Topping them all, though, is Kitaro getting the crap kicked out of him, to the point where his head is covered in bumps (cartoon-style)… and then having those bumps launch as missiles to counterattack. It’s so incredibly silly, and yet it also shows off the sheer brilliance of Mizuki’s imagination. He may confine himself to yokai here, but you see why – despite telling essentially the same story over and over (a yokai is doing bad things, Kitaro stops it), the series is never boring.

I believe that the next volume, out early next year, will be the final one in these omnibus collections. They’re all worth picking up. Kitaro is a style of manga that is both very reminiscent of the late 60s manga style and yet also timeless. It’s also very re-readable. Highly recommended.

No Game No Life, Vol. 8

By Yuu Kamiya. Released in Japan by Media Factory. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Daniel Komen.

It’s a No Game No Life volume, so you sort of know what you’re going to get by now. A lot of faffing around and being stupid and/or appalling while Steph (and the reader) tries to figure out what Sora and Shiro are thinking. Sora being reprehensibly perverted, and honestly I think him being a cowardly virgin deep down makes it MORE annoying. The fact that this is a writer who writes awkward prose in Japanese being translated awkwardly into English, meaning sometimes you have to go reread the previous paragraph to figure out what was just said. In amongst this, however, there are the usual good things lurking near the bottom, including a good discussion of war games vs. actual war, and the “villain” of the book, whose road towards becoming more emotional in her constant inquisitiveness is a good one in the end. And Steph. Steph is always good, though you have to put up with her being constantly belittled by everyone in the world.

We pick up where we left off last time, with Sora and Shiro (and Steph) being forced to replicate the last War and understand how it was resolved. This is, of course, impossible, mostly as, despite the obvious attempts by the narrator to make us think it in Book 6, Sora and Shiro are not Riku and Schwi, nor can they be. More to the point, as Sora point out, there’s a big difference between a game of war and war in reality: a game ends. When you “win” in war, you have to think about what happens next, unlike your typical game of Axis and Allies. Moreover, while this is going on on Old Deus’ gaming board, the remaining players are all trying to betray each other in the real world, which doesn’t go well. For anyone. And then there’s the matter of the traitor who was mentioned before, which is actually one of the subplots I felt was handled quite well.

In any case, by the end of the book we have what appears to be a new regular, and we also have some old “friends”, Chlammy and Fiel, who are also going to be hanging around now that Sora has, in effect, ruined their lives. Steph helped, and possibly my favorite moment in the book was when she looked away guiltily – but not that guiltily. Steph may dislike Sora’s perversions – I do as well – but she gets how he thinks, and was the first to point out a major aspect of [ ]’s gaming strategy, as well as Tet’s, which is to have fun. A lesson that everyone else in the cast, as well as many “serious” gamers in real life, could use. Of course, now that we’ve resolved this plot another is coming, as we appear to be gearing up for another invasion by …German robots?

As ever, No Game No Life remains intensely frustrating and annoying (everything about the elves in the war game was appalling and awful, and I don’t care that it was deliberately so), and it’s genuinely difficult to read at times. But there are moments when you can see the talent of the author shine though, and they’re excellent. Mildly recommended.

Witch Hat Atelier, Vol. 1

By Kamome Shirahama. Released in Japan as “Tongari Boushi no Atelier” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Morning Two. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Stephen Kohler.

With a title like this, it’s tempting to leave the review at (flailing around) PRETTY!, which is certainly true, but there’s more to the title than the art – the story is also quite compelling, and I’m enjoying the characters. That said, boy is it pretty. I suspect most people were drawn to it by the cover, and the inside is even better. This is a world of magic, though at first our heroine doesn’t seem to have any. But there are magic pools and the like. And there are witches, who are both male and female here. Coco desperately wishes she was a witch, but doesn’t seem to have the power, despite having been sold a mysterious magical book at a fair years ago by a mysterious masked stranger, something that is completely not suspicious at all. So you can imagine her delight when a real witch shows up one day, and she gets to observe how magic is made. The delight has consequences, though…

For the most part, this is a title filled with whimsy and wonder, and Coco is a bubbly, happy hero. I say for the most part because the circumstances that lead to her becoming a witch are creepy and scary, and essentially a child’s worst nightmare. Fortunately the witch from the earlier chapter is able to help her, and she gets taken away to magic school to essentially start starring in Harry Potter. She gets a few new friends, and also a roommate who really does not like her, in the best boarding school tradition. Most of this volume hinges on the fact that Coco has absolutely no training in this sort of thing whatsoever, and things that are common knowledge to all witches are new to her. This allows the reader to receive an explanation, of course, but also helps to show off how Coco seems to be a prodigy as well – she soaks up the information quickly, and can extricate herself from life-threatening situations.

The rest of the cast is not as fleshed out as Coco, but it’s a good start. Mostly we focus on Qifrey and Agott. Qifrey seems to be the sort of pleasant mentor who will have a bit of a dark side later on, sort of like Dumbledore (well, hopefully not THAT much like Dumbledore). Agott makes the stronger impression, and it’s not a good one at first, with the line “such a shame about your mother” wriggling with unspoken contempt. Agott and Coco are meant to contrast heavily, and Agott is also clearly meant to be the favored student who gets shown up straight away by the new girl. Will they eventually bond as friends? Not sure, but things aren’t looking good right now, as Agott sends Coco out on a deadly test and does not seem to be punished for it at all.

So, to sum up: magical fantasy, spunky young protagonist, rivals and companions, a mysterious past, and excellent artwork. It’s a terrific start to a series.