My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness

By Nagata Kabi. Released in Japan as “Sabishisugite Lesbian Fuzoku Ni Ikimashita Report” by East Press. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jocelyne Allen.

This book took me by surprise several times, mot least of which is the fact that it was licensed at all. A realistic look at depression and sexuality done autobiographically, and then released first on the art board Pixiv, then by the small publisher East Press? It was not the type of story I expected to see picked up by the publishers of Monster Girl Encyclopedia. But no publisher ever quite fits its cliche, and Seven Seas decided to take a chance on this book. I’m so glad they did, and you should be as well, because this is a raw but fascinating and ultimately uplifting read for anyone. I was actually surprised at how much of it spoke to me, being that I am seemingly not the typical audience for this book, but the experiences here also hold a touch of the universal, and the way they play out is excellent.

After a brief flashforward to the event on the cover, which is mostly covered in the second half of the book, we get the author’s examination of her life after high school. She was doing art at college but dropped out, and attempts to hold down a part-time job were hampered by her issues of self-esteem, eating disorders, and a serious case of depression. This is not a lighthearted title, and we get a lot of examination of the thought process that goes into being depressed and having anxiety. It’s one of the best parts of the book – by working over everything in such detail, with the author also analyzing her own behavior at the time as she writes it, she shows us how difficult it can be to get yourself out of that hole you dig. There’s also a realization that she may not want to be the person that her parents are pushing her to be – which then leads into an examination of her sexuality.

Again, like the depression, she lays this out in a very straightforward, visible manner, showing how she didn’t even think of herself as a gender, because she didn’t want to be seen first as a woman, then as a person. This leads to her realizing that she’s more attracted to women’s bodies, and a wonderful examination of the need for affection and physical contact, beyond the bounds of sexuality. It culminates in the decision to have a session with a worker from an escort agency, so that she can experience what she’s been obsessing over. Of course, this being realistic autobiography, the experience is as awkward and difficult as you’d imagine (I liked where she expressed regret that she forgot to hug them), but things do end up more hopeful by the end of the book, with the author taking this experience and deciding to use it to create the story we’re reading, and the online reaction she gets, leaves you smiling and hoping that she finds fulfillment.

Basically, this manga may make you uncomfortable at times, but it is well worth it to see how one person can talk about such universal topics as anxiety, depression, and sexual identity on the page. Please go buy it, you won’t regret it.

My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected, Vol. 2

By Wataru Watari and Ponkan 8. Released in Japan as “Yahari Ore no Seishun Rabukome wa Machigatte Iru” by Shogakukan. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jennifer Ward.

In many ways, this second volume of OreGairu does not have a heck of a lot going on. There are school ativities and discussion of career plans, as befits high schoolers. There is the Service Club and their attempts to help people, which features two cases this time around, both of which are solved relatively quickly. But that’s appropriate, as the problems are very much those of typical high-schoolers – feeling like the odd man out in a group of friends, and trying to find a way to pay for higher education. They’re also solved relatively quickly because both Hachiman and Yukino are both amazingly intelligent and observant, and normally they’d be praiseworthy. But they aren’t, mostly because of the reason anyone would read OreGairu in the first place: to read about these horrible, broken people lacerating each other with words.

I read this book right after reading Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, and the contrast between narrative style is mindblowing. Hachiman’s cynical bitterness overflows every page, and his defensive asides only serve to make him more pathetic and yet strangely endearing. His insight into human nature, particularly the way that high school students interact around each other, is high-level stuff, and if he was looking for a career at all I’d suggest he move in a direction where he could use those talents for the better good. But his crushing apathy and disaffection ensures that this isn’t going to happen. Yukino is similar to him, though without the outward self-hatred. I say outward because this second volume shows us that there is a topic that really upsets Yukino and cracks her jerkass facade, and that’s showing family issues in her face. Clearly Yukino’s issues are family-related just as Hichiman’s are peer-related, and I have no doubt that future books will explore this in agonizing detail.

Thank goodness for Yui. I feel a little bad for her, as much of the time she feels like a character from a far more cliched light novel trapped inside this series. But she’s desperately needed to offset the bile coming from her two clubmates, and her relatively normal reactions to everything show off both how intelligent and broken Hachiman and Yukino are. She’s also tied to the accident at the start of his high school life, something he is now aware of, and this culminates in a stunning final scene where she gives him a perfect opening to get closer to her and possibly lead up to something more, and he just shuts her down as callously as possible. This series would never work if Hachiman’s attitude was fixed as quickly as this, so the pushback was expected. But it’s beautifully, heartbreakingly written, and you feel bad for Hachiman while wanting to kick him in the head. And Yui needs a hug.

That said, the actual plot is mostly irrelevant for this series, which runs on snappy dialogue and clever characterization. It’s not a happy, feel-good series at all, but it’s absolutely worth a read for light novel fans.

Cage of Eden, Vol. 21

By Yoshinobu Yamada. Released in Japan as “Eden no Ori” by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Mari Morimoto

It’s been six and a half years since I last did a full review of Cage of Eden on this site. The series pretty much was the definition of “this is worthy of a Bookshelf Brief”, featuring a lot of fun action, thrilling adventures, and copious nudity. It’s been over in Japan for a while now, and for a while I wondered if it would ever end here – this final volume comes out a full year after the last one did. But now it’s here, giving us more of what I just said above. There’s huge beasts killing off a few villainous guys whose names I can’t even remember. There’s deadly slime mold that almost, but not quite, manages to kill off our heroes who we do care about. There is an explanation of everything that has been going on, though it is quite rushed. And as for romantic resolution… the hand-holding on the cover is the best you’ll get.

While I did enjoy this last volume, the whole thing screams “your popularity is waning, wrap it up in 4 chapters even though you won’t have time to fit anything in”. As such, much of the back end of this volume is devoted to Akira’s mother, and her POV as her son’s flight is lost with everyone on board presumed dead. The grief and loss she shows is actually some of the best writing in the volume, and helps to make up for the “and therefore I became the heir to a huge scientific conspiracy” that follows. As for the solution to how the class is on the island and why, it’s a reasonable one given the vaguely science-fictional stuff we’ve already seen, and probably a bit more satisfying than Lost, a series that Cage of Eden hes reminded many people of. The ending is wide open, as we never do find out what happens to everyone once they return to Japan… it’s intentionally left as a blank slate.

As for the romance I mentioned earlier, it’s even lampshaded by the author. Despite the occasional overture towards romantic triangles and the obvious attraction and love Akira and Rion feel for each other, the closest we get to a payoff is one last bathing scene, with the peepers helpfully telling us that no one has gotten any, not even Yarai ad his teacher. Honestly, we shouldn’t be surprised. Cage of Eden has always, despite the occasional attempt at depth, been more about surface impressions than anything else. And also, a lot of romance manga these days ends with no resolution to avoid annoying readers. That said, I think even the most hardcore of those fans might have forgiven at least Alira/Rion. Still, we’ll always have that hand-holding.

Cage of Eden was exciting, sometimes horrifying, frequently blatantly sexist, and tried to aim a bit higher than it could really reach, but overall I’m happy I read it. It’s a good example of a typical Shonen Magazine title from about 10 years ago, and I’m glad we got to see it finish up here.