In This Corner of the World

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By Fumiyo Kouno. Released in Japan as “Kono Sekai no Katasumi ni” by Futabasha, serialized in the magazine Manga Action. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Adrienne Beck.

Sometimes history can spoil a manga a bit. You know something is going to happen going in, simply given where and when the series takes place. That’s absolutely the case with the fantastic omnibus In This Corner of the World, which focuses on a young girl named Suzu, who’s a bit airheaded but good at art, and her coming of age and awkward but loving marriage to an uncommunicative husband. The manga, particular the first two-thirds, focuses on her everyday life as she does household chores, tries to find time to do some drawings, and deals with her sister-in-law’s ire, as Suzu is regarded by the sister-in-law as a bit too ditzy to be a good wife. Which, honestly, sometimes seems to be the case. The kicker here, of course, is that Suzu was born and grew up in Hiroshima, and moves to Kure when she gets married… right before World War II.

As such, there is a certain sense as you read though Suzu’s daily struggles that you’re waiting for the bomb to go off. And there is indeed a bomb, though Suzu does not deal first-hand with the Hiroshima H-bomb. No, it’s just a simple, ordinary bomb that kills her niece and blows off her right hand, the one she draws with. The last third or so of the book has a dazed and grieving Suzu try to come to terms with what’s happening and to try to patch things up with her husband (who was with a prostitute some time ago, which caused friction between them). Suzu is kind-hearted and gentle, though, and so aside from one burst of fury when Japan surrenders (which you can understand given everything she went through) she is able to move on with her life despite the new difficulties.

This is all conveyed through some absolutely gorgeous art, which does not hesitate to try a different style in order to get across the mood or the point that it wants to make. I’d even go so far as to call the art the main reason to buy the book, though the story is good as well. We see chapters done with no dialogue, as storybook-style, as a comic strip (Suzu’s childish drawings of her older brother, which becomes a breathtakingly bittersweet callback right at the end), as karuta art, and even as blurry, out–of-focus scenery as we see Suzu struggling with the loss of her dominant hand. The story is told via the art as well as the narrative, and the result is a volume that makes you want to go back and reread it after you’ve finished.

This is not an easy read, as you might expect, and there are moments of quiet tragedy that sometimes make it hard to move on. But I absolutely recommend it, as it’s an achingly gorgeous book that deserves all the hype it might get.

Psycome: Murder Machine and the Catastrophic Athletic Festival

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By Mizuki Mizushiro and Namanie. Released in Japan by Enterbrain. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Nicole Wilder.

Given the nature of a series like this, which not only revels in its cliches but tries to top them, a volume devoted to a school athletics festival was almost as likely as one devoted to a culture festival (that should be Vol. 6). And for all I said Phycome would never be great in my last review, it comes damn close here, as the descriptions of the bloody, murderous giant melee battles in this book are so much fun I found myself grinning much of the time. Each scene tries to act as either a topper for the previous one or a showcase for the main character’s foibles. The volume is not perfect (the epilogue and ‘continuing chapter’ feel very tacked on and slightly OOC), but for those who want Psycome in its purest form, this is the one to buy.

Maina is on the cover, and gets probably about the most spotlight she’s ever going to here, as she proves once more to be a force of absolute accidental destruction. That said, she’s also grown slightly as a character, and it’s her determination that impresses here, as even the rest of the class admits. Her run during the relay race was a pump your fist moment. As for the others, Ayaka’s yandere sister side is in full force for those who like that (I do not), and there’s a third year DJ/murderer who seems to serve the role of Lee Jordan here, offering commentary and snark over the microphone. Eiri doesn’t have as much to do after getting the spotlight last time, but I will admit that Shamaya chasing her around the field with a giant vibrator may be peak Psycome. Unless it’s Kurumiya forcing herself to talk adorably in a goth loli outfit because she will do anything to win. One of those two.

The real development here, though, is with Renko. Her mother’s arrival forces her to choose between her loyalty to her and her love for Kyousuke, and it’s not as easy a decision as it sounds, given that Renko was literally bred to be an assassin. The battle with the two of them vs. her brother Renji is the action highlight of the volume, even though (as has happened before) Kyousuke’s super endurance seems utterly ludicrous. (We get more hints that his parents “trained” him, and they may show up next time.) And Kyousuke finally is able to resolve his feelings (Eiri is conveniently unconscious when this occurs, and don’t think I didn’t notice that), though the revelation about Renko and Renji’s true nature may put a kibosh on that one.

We’ve only got one more volume left, and I suspect it will be busy wrapping up all the loose ends that have collected. Therefore this may have been the last time we’ll see balls-to-the-wall comedic anarchy from Psycome, which has frequently tried to be over the top gonzo insane but has never quite hit it. It hits it several times here, and that’s why this was the most enjoyable volume to date.

Kitaro: Kitaro’s Strange Adventures

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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.

As the title might suggest, there’s no really big epic in this volume of Kitaro. We get two medium sized adventures and some shorter stories, all of which are decent and show off the strengths of the Kitaro manga and characters. Kitaro not only battles against Chinese yokai who are trying to invade, but also demons from hell. And here we see that Kitaro and his world are something for children – they’re the ones who see and interact with Kitaro, and they’re the ones who are endangered. Occasionally we see an adult with issues, such as the man who has a cursed hand, but mostly in terms of yokai Kitaro is something that adults don’t believe in anymore, but kids know is real. It’s a good way to get the reader on your side, and Mizuki is a master at it.

Though we do see several recurring yokai, this is not the cozy Kitoaro of the 1990s (Neko Musume is mentioned in the accompanying history but nowhere in sight), and there’s honestly only three who are of any importance here: Kitaro, his eyeball father, and the amazingly two-faced Nezumi Otoko, who continues to show off why he became the breakout favorite character of this series. He’s such an appalling ass, showing off that he’ll do anything for money, will say anything to save his own skin, and that he gives up super easily and accepts a horrible fate – he seems to literally have no positive traits whatsover. Except, of course, that he makes the reader laugh. (Kudos to Zack Davisson’s translation here, by the way, which excels at making Nezumi Otoko funny – I lost it at “I’m just a carefree college student!”.)

I will say that it’s very clear that these are being written on the fly, and that Mizuki puts down all the ideas he has on the page, and when he runs out of them the story stops – sometimes quite abruptly. None of these are week-to-week serials with cliffhangers, they’re all self-contained. Sometimes the climaxes are epic, such as the final battle against the Chinese yokai, which is essentially two armies going after one another. And sometimes the need to wrap up a story in order to meet the page count is so obvious it becomes hilarious, and you get moments like “Kitaro fires his machine gun teeth and hits the monster in the nuts”, which is, let’s face it, something that you are highly unlikely to see in most modern manga. Though I think One Piece might give it a shot.

This is another solid volume of Kitaro, and I’m delighted to see the anthology coming out over here, containing stories approved by Mizuki before his death. And while all the stories are about yokai you never quite know what you’re going to get next – I understand the next volume crosses over with Buffy and the Beatles! OK, probably not. But it’s definitely going to be a must read. These are good editions of classic influential manga.