Land of the Lustrous, Vol. 1

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By Haruko Ichikawa. Released in Japan as “Houseki no Kuni” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Afternoon. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Alethea Nibley & Athena Nibley.

This was a trip. I wasn’t sure what to expect going in, as I didn’t know much about it beyond “fighting gems” and that it’s been nominated for awards. Indeed, Kodansha even says it’s for fans of Steven Universe, presumably because, well, gems. I can see some similarities, but really, this manga is its own thing, and calling Phos and Steven similar lead characters seems a bit insulting to Steven. As for the plot, I honestly found it to be somewhat confusing much of the time, not really a surprise when it’s the first volume. But there are a few very good reasons to read this. The first is that the author is very good at depicting tension and frustration between two different characters, as our lead goes around and annoys everyone into submission. Secondly, the art is really nice, and conveys a sense of wonder and a sense of horror depending on where you are in the story.

The basic premise is that gem people are fighting against Moon creatures. They seem to fight based on the hardness of their base gem – the harder the better. Our lead gem is Phosphophyllite, who is most assuredly NOT on of the hardest gems – indeed, they’re known for being rather fragile and brittle. Phos is also a bit of a ditz, whiny, selfish, and lazy, which makes it very diffifuclt to find them a job. Fortunately, the sensei who’s in charge of the gems has come up with something: Phos will compose a natural history of their world. This seems, on the face of it, a idea that is both good and bad. Good because it’s the sort of this that plays right into Phos’ skill sets, and bad because Phos really has no skills sets beyond “people seem to like them”. Really, what it is is an excuse to have Phos wander around and interact with the other gems, such as the reclusive Cinnabar or the beautiful yet secretly self-loathing Dia. In the second half of the book, Phos accidentally gets eaten by a slug creature, and after everyone spends a long time figuring out how to get them back, now has… the ability to communicate with it? Maybe?

As I said earlier, this isn’t really a title I’m reading for the plot. It also has to be said, for those who get easily annoyed at selfish characters who clearly are going to grow and change as the series goes on, Phos starts out REALLY irritating, and you can easily understand some of why they’re treated so poorly. But not entirely all of it – Phos is also bullied in many ways, and the excessive verbal abuse heaped on them seems a bit much. Even those characters who do seem to like Phos, such as Cinnabar, show this affection by being even meaner than the others, though that ties more into Cinnabar’s self-hatred and suicidal tendencies than anything else. (The gems seem to be genderless, and I’ve done my best to avoid gendering them when writing this review.) To sum up, I’m not entirely sure where this is going, but I find the character interaction excellent and the art captivating. Which is all you can ask of a Volume 1, really.

Nisemonogatari: Fake Tale, Vol. 1

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By NISIOISIN. Released in Japan by Kodansha. Released in North America by Vertical, Inc. Translated by James Balzer.

The afterword of this volume of the Monogatari series says that Nisioisin never intended for it to be published, but just wrote it for his own amusement. I hate to call an author a liar, but just reading the text of this first volume of Nisemonogatari makes me think he’s full of it. The book is filled with efforts to make this short series into a much longer one, adding onto running gags and deconstructing them, taking existing characterization and flipping it on its head or making it more ominous, setting the stage for new plot points to be carried over to future books, and the endless references to the fact that the books recently had an anime greenlit, right after the first set of books kept joking about the idea of the characters being in an anime. Nisemonogatari’s metatext is thick. Fortunately, its text is also good, showing off Araragi’s sisters, and how they’re far more like him than he’s comfortable with.

Fitting given that he has two sisters, the Nisemonogatari series is split into two books, and this is the first one, Karen Bee. Karen is his “older younger sister”, and is almost the definition of ‘dumb muscle’, a karate black belt devoted to justice and righting wrongs who seems to forget that she’s just in middle school and that actual villains can run rings around her. She’s a nice kid, but you can see why Nisioisin spent so much time re-introducing the rest of Bakemonogatari’s cast; there’s just not enough in her to justify the 300 pages or so that this book consists of. We also get a better glimpse at Tsukihi, the “younger younger sister”, who Nisio is clearly far more fond of writing, mostly as she’s able to go toe-to-toe with her older brother in the only battle that really counts in any works by this author: wordplay. Tsukihi’s mood swings and temper tantrums will be looked at in more depth in the following book.

As for the rest of the cast, again, they’re shifting from “this is a series of short stories, each about a different girl” to “this is a long-running series that will have several books after this. That doesn’t change the fact that Araragi and Senjogahara are still a couple – indeed, some of the best scenes in the book feature the two of them. But we see that Hanekawa and Senjogahara have clearly had “a chat” in between books, and that – despite Sensjogahara’s attempts to exaggerate it in order to make us dismiss it – there is clearly major tension between them. Possibly because, as Kanbaru states midway through the book, Araragi and Hanekawa are the more obvious couple. Hanekawa herself has cut her hair and gotten contacts in order to show she’s moving on from Araragi, but I’m not sure how much I buy it – she’s willing to say she loves him to his face, but it’s not a confession per se.

Oh yes, can’t forget Shinobu, who has finally decided to stop sulking and become the extremely talkative haughty vampire we met in Kizumonogatari, and she’s not going to let looking like an eight-year-old stop her. She gives Araragi a way to discuss oddities now that Oshino has left town – she gives advice on the supernatural, while Mayoi, who is a wandering ghost, ironically gives advice on more down to earth things like love. And Nadeko is here as well, and her fumbling, overly obvious attempts at seducing Araragi (obvious, that is, to everyone except him) show us that she’s not just a shy, blushing girl in love with him. More on that much later. And then there’s Kaiki, one of the most popular characters in the entire series judging by Western fandom. He’s very good at playing the evil villain, and does like to drone on endlessly (as every character in Monogatari does), but there’s a hint that there’s far more to him than that, and I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of him.

You’ll notice that this volume has a new translator (yes, I’ll mention it). Vertical apparently decided, given the aggressive release schedule, to divide the series up into chunks, so James Balzer is doing the Nise series and Ko Ransom will be back with Nekomonogatari Black and White. For the most part, the change is not all that noticeable. The series is well translated (hang on, getting to it), keeping most of the culture references – I was very pleased to see Araragi’s Read or Die comment left in – and adapting the wordplay and Japanese puns so they are mostly not noticeable. And Shinobu sounds like her old-world vampire self – which may come as a surprise to anime watchers, as most subbers decided not to bother translating her into “old school” speech. Two things, though. First, the book keeps the scene where Hanekawa mocks Araragi for using the -chan honorific to refer to his sisters, which seems odd in a series so otherwise aggressively devoted to avoiding honorifics (My Senior, etc.).

The second thing is a bit more egregious. In the original Japanese, Tsukihi says (in English) that she is “Platinum Mad”, which is a take off of puchi and purachina/platinum. She uses the phrase a few times in the series, and the anime turned it into her OP theme song, “Platinum Disco”. It would not be exaggerating to say that when you think of Tsukihi, you think of “Platinum Mad”. The translator, however, decided that since it’s weird Japanese wordplay it had to be changed to weird English wordplay – as he has done throughout the book. So “a bit” becomes “dagnabbit”. There are several issues here. First off, dagnabbit sounds to a Western ear like something Yosemite Sam would say. Secondly, almost no one noticed the wordplay itself, and just saw that “Platinum” had been changed to “Dagnabbit” for no reason (remember, Platinum is IN ENGLISH in the original). Most importantly, though, it seems to show that the people in charge of translating the series for Vertical are translating the books without paying attention to the other media – anime, singles, or the fandom. I get that – these were books first, and you want to make sure that they can also sell to casual readers. But try not to drive the hardcore fans off. Platinum Mad is a meme, fer chrissakes. Dagnabbit Mad just makes Tsukihi sound stupid. Which she very clearly isn’t – intellectually, she’s her brother’s equal.

OK, rant over. Aside from that, I felt the translation was excellent, and I didn’t really notice a major change between Ko and James. More importantly, for anime fans, there’s still a lot of new stuff here – you’d think given that it got adapted into 7 episodes that they didn’t leave much out, but there’s still many extra and lengthened scenes in here that got adapted out. Fans of Araragi and company will want to pick this up, as it’s excellent. Though be prepared to write “platinum” in your copy with ballpoint.

Alice & Zoroku, Vol. 1

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By Tetsuya Imai. Released in Japan by Tokuma Shoten, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Ryu. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Beni Axia Conrad, Adapted by Maggie Cooper.

I spent most of this first volume mostly enjoying what I was reading, but something felt off, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It was reminding me of something else, but I wasn’t sure what. Then I realized it was reminding me of Madoka Magica. Not for any plot or characterization reasons, but because the art in Alice & Zoroku does not match up with what is actually happening on the page. Madoka Magica always felt weird to me because I read Sunshine Sketch first, and had trouble reconciling the uber-moe art with the events on the page. The same sort of thing happens here, and to a degree it’s helped along by the premise. This SHOULD be a series about a young mysterious girl who ends up living with a grumpy old cuss and together they learn to open up to each other. It should be (pardon my age showing here) Punky Brewster. As it turns out, there’s a lot more going on.

The girl on the cover is not Alice – at least not literally. She’s certainly a figurative Alice, though, and there’s Wonderland quotes and motifs throughout the work. Sana is an experimental child who has the ability to make anything she imagines into reality. She’s escaped from her evil research center where she’s been kept (which we’re already starting to see may not be quite as evil as she painted it) and is on the run in the middle of the city. There she runs into Zoroku, an old man who works as a florist, lives with his granddaughter (who seems to be in high school – I’m assuming dead parents here), and seems to spend each day going around being vaguely pissed off. She is, of course, a child who grew up in a lab, so has no sense of social skills or any ability to be sensible. But she’s cute. Oh yes, and who other kids, twins, are trying to kill her, and caring very little about collateral damage. Will she melt his stern heart and be taken in?

The series is eight volumes and running in Japan (I think it got an anime as well), and this first volume definitely feels like a lot of setup for a future payoff. We get a few other cast members introduced, most of whom don’t make much of an impression, with the exception of the granddaughter Sanae, who seems to be an odd mix of airhead and motherly type and is a lot of fun. Zoroku is probably the strongest character here – stubborn as a goat, but he has a strong sense of right and wrong, and is not afraid to tell off a child when he sees them running roughshod over it. As for the research center Sana is escaping from, we get a few flashbacks and expository scenes that hint that Sana’s nature is more that of a tactical nuclear weapon than an actual child – again, metaphorically speaking.

Overall, while I still didn’t quite get past the cognitive dissonance of the artstyle, which says this should be a fluffy slice-of-life series (it isn’t), I enjoyed enough of Alice & Zoroku to try a second volume.