ECHO

Leave a reply

By Akira and Oguchi, based on the Vocaloid song by Crusher-P. Released in Japan by PHP Institute. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Kevin Chen.

There is a certain subgenre of novels that are based on Vocaloid songs. We’ve seen a few of them over here, Kagerou Daze being the most obvious. But Kagerou Daze has sort of morphed into a franchise of which the original songs are but a part. ECHO, on the other hand, is a stand-alone novel based on the video of the same name, and after reading it it really doesn’t feel like you can separate the two works. In fact, I’d recommend tracking down the video on Youtube and watching it before reading this book – it doesn’t really spoil much beyond the girl who’s already on the cover, and it helps to make sense of some of the surreal events happening in the middle and end of the book, which quote most of the song outright. As for the book itself, in addition to fans of the original work, I’d recommend it to fans of dark horror with a mystery tinge. As for me, it was well-written, but it didn’t grab me as much as I’d have liked.

Our heroine, much as she spends much of the book denying it, is Hitomi, a teenage girl who helps her family run an electronics store. (Her last name is an aggravation to her but also a character point, so I’ll avoid it for now.) While watching the store one afternoon, she suddenly finds herself flipping through various places as if she were a TV program, finally ending up falling from quite a height into a bizarre amusement park. Fortunately, she doesn’t go splat, and runs into a few other people in the park – her childhood friend, who she’s somewhat estranged from now; the daughter of the richest family in their (very rural) town; a tall introverted girl who seems to be connected to the rich girl in some way; and an adult actor who says he was just passing through town and somehow wound up here, and seems suspicious right from the get-go. Where are they? Why can’t they remember how they got there? And what’s with the girl with six arms and a TV for a head?

The novel is written by a seasoned pro at the genre, and it shows, there’s no awkward “webnovel” prose that you’d see in some works these days. There is some striking imagery, starting with the prologue, which features a horrific sight sure to get rid of any readers who don’t like horror at all. That said, I wish I’d had more time to get to know the characters before events caught up with them. There’s also the presence of Hitomi, which doesn’t really match any of the others, and whose explanation is far from satisfying – clearly she was there because the narrator needed to be an “everygirl” and audience surrogate. She insists she’s not the sort of person to be a protagonist, which may be true of shoujo manga, but if you turn towards Japanese novels for young adults, she absolutely is. The most interesting part of the book to me was probably the real world perspective of the mother of one of the characters, who ends up being tied into the plot far more than expected.

In the end, this is a good book that does what it set out to do – craft a novel around a piece of music. Fans of the song will enjoy it. (Also, wow, what a depressing “this is what happens after you die” this novel has. Pass on that.)

We Never Learn, Vol. 1

Leave a reply

By Taishi Tsutsui. Released in Japan as “Bokutachi wa Benkyou ga Dekinai” by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz Media. Translated by Camellia Nieh.

It always feels reassuring to have a romantic comedy coming out in Shonen Jump in amongst all the friendship, training and victory. Especially coming out in North America, where Jump romantic comedies have not always had the best track record. Nisekoi was a recent hit, but it’s an outlier – To-Love-Ru and its sequel were farmed out to a different company, and does anyone remember Strawberry 100%? That said, like Nisekoi, We Never Learn seems to be falling more on the side of “romantic comedy with strong character development” rather than “romantic comedy with lots of panty shots and sexual suggestiveness”. Like, well, those other two series. As a result, it’s far more my type of series. The main characters are all types, but they’re enjoyably written and aren’t aggravating. Nisekoi fans may find Fumino a bit familiar to Onodera, but that’s no surprise, given the author wrote Nisekoi’s magical girl spinoff.

Nariyuki is a serious young man from a poor family who needs a recommendation to get into a good school. He’s an excellent student, not through innate ability but hard study. He is, sadly, not the best in his class in science and literature, thanks to two geniuses who effortlessly get the best grades. Now he is being told to tutor these two, as they each have goals that clash with their specialty – literature genius Fumino wants to study astronomy but is wretched at science, and Rizu wants to go into the arts despite being seemingly awful at understanding feelings and emotions. Things get off to a rocky start, but Nariyuki is not one to give up easily, To make matters more chaotic, Naruyuki’s friend Uruka needs to study in order to stay on the swimming team, but she’s bad at EVERYTHING. Can he get these girls to bone up on the right things and achieve their dreams? And, more importantly, fall in love with one of them?

Well, I say that, but at this point in the series love is not all that high on the agenda, which is content to introduce the main cast and have them bond as friends. The plot is very sedate with few surprises – the girls meet Naruyuki’s family, the girls each reveals secret asides to themselves, etc. One of the interesting things about the title I noticed is that there’s no “first girl” here – both main female protagonists are introduced at once, so you don’t get a sense of who the author favors. (Sorry, Uruka, you arrive three chapters late.) I suspect that Western readers will gravitate to Rizu – let’s face it, Fumino is the classic “nice girl who always comes in second” sort (see also Nisekoi) – but it’s going to be more of a surprise than these titles usually pull off. The author also has a good flair for art and facial expressions – there’s just a lot of amusing faces here, and I found myself laughing at them as much as the characters and situation.

So overall a pretty strong debut, and I can see why it was licensed. I look forward to seeing these girls make painfully slow progress in their efforts to learn outside their specialties.

Toradora!, Vol. 3

Leave a reply

By Yuyuko Takemiya and Yasu. Released in Japan by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jan Cash & Vincent Castaneda. Adapted by Lora Gray.

In many ways this feels like a filler volume in the series, but I think it’s actually focusing more on the main cast and how Ryuuji is able to understand them – or not, as the case may be. Ryuuji is a nice, kind person but he’s not all that good at getting “what women want”, so to speak. That applies to Taiga, who spends much of this book intensely frustrated and upset – even for her. It also applies to Ami, who has been given her depth in the last book and so is free to backslide and be the ‘evil transfer student’ everyone was fearing – or is she merely trying to aggressively flirt? And then there’s Minori, who is theoretically Ryuuji’s crush, but who he seems to try to understand the least, letting her walk through the novel being Taiga’s goofy best friend without pondering why she acts the way she does. It’s not just “I am weird”, Ryuuji. By the end of the book he hasn’t figured much out either, but the stage is at least set for the next part of the series.

The book takes place immediately after the previous one, where Ami put Ryuuji in a compromising position and is now gleefully watching the fireworks. Taiga, of course, insists she is not angry, and we know what that means. Worse, swimming classes are up next, and Taiga has to wear a swimsuit (thus showing off her childlike figure) and also swim (which she can’t). Things come to a head when Ami invites Ryuuji to her summer home over the break, so they could get to know each other better. Taiga snaps, and we’re set up for a swimming challenge – the winner essentially gets Ryuuji. You could argue Ryuuji’s biggest mistake in this book is not shutting this down before it starts, but instead, he does his best to teach Taiga to swim and try to figure out why she’s so upset – which isn’t quite the reason he thinks.

This book came out about twelve years ago in Japan, and so a lot of the things that might feel obvious to the reader were a lot fresher then. If the big drawback in this volume is that there’s very little forward movement, the plus is this allows us to see a lot of silly and/or heartwarming scenes that we might not otherwise have gotten. The cold opening at the hospital, where we worry that Ryuuji’s mother may have died but then realize the far more amusing truth, is an absolutely perfect scene. Ami too is a horrible delight, and the humiliation she goes through near the end once again feels especially deserved. But as always the main reason to love this is Taiga, who is a bundle of issues and all the more readable because of them. Her “solution” to the challenge was fantastic, if also appalling.

If I recall correctly from the manga, the next volume should be especially strong. This one isn’t a world beater, but it’s fun, especially if you like seeing Taiga blow up.