Umineko: When They Cry, Vol. 15

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Story by Ryukishi07; Art by Hinase Momoyama. Released in Japan in two separate volumes as “Umineko no Naku Koro ni: Dawn of the Golden Witch” by Square Enix, serialized in the magazine GFantasy. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Stephen Paul.

Warning: this reviews mentions the biggest spoiler in Umineko, which I have been dancing around until now. I won’t mention it in this first paragraph, but it’s hard not to review this final omnibus of the arc and discuss it, as it ends up being a major part of the climax. Before we get to that, though: I’ve talked before about how Ryukishi07 loves a good old fashioned shonen battle at heart, and a great deal of this book is just that. Various characters try to attack Beatrice and get blown away by various other characters, as you realize how ridiculously huge the cast has become by now. Erika finally loses, and judging by the “roll call” at the end of the book, seemingly abandoned to a watery grave by Bernkastel. And Ryukishi still can’t resist connecting Umineko and Higurashi, even though Featherine and Hanyuu are as alike as two very unalike things.

(I am very irritated with that front cover image, by the way. I know it’s not Yen’s fault, and that the Japanese licensor chose which cover to use and which to hide. But it makes me sad that the best cover in the series is relegated to the color page inside.)

For those trying to figure out what’s going on in Umineko, the manga has been a bit more obvious in its hints than the visual novel, even back in earlier arcs. For this particular arc, we’ve spent a long time debating why it is that Shannon, Kanon, and Beatrice need magic in order to have their love fulfilled, and this volume explicitly says it’s because they are not a whole person. Meanwhile, as predicted in the last volume, Battler is trapped in a logic error of his own making, trapped inside the guest room till he can figure out how to get out without disturbing the chain lock, duct tape seals, or anything else. The answer ends up being that Kanon, being dead (Shannon won the big duel), can now come free Battler and take his place. And then “erase himself” by magic. There’s only one way for this all to work, and that’s by realizing that we’re talking about IDENTITIES when we discuss people on the island, not BODIES. Shannon and Kanon cannot both love without magic help as they’re the same person. And both are also a third person – Beatrice.

This works a lot better than you’d imagine if you think about what is “real” in the books and what takes place in an imaginary fantasy world. We’ve gone on and on about “magic” being a conceit, and that’s in full force here. It’s also what allows Fledgling Beato to take up the place of her old self and become the “real”, haughty Beatrice – though that mask slips much of the time, and there’s still some creepy incestual vibes between her and Battler that is the big downside of this arc and I kind of hate. In any case, we may have figured out the gimmick behind one of the biggest mysteries of Umineko, but we’re still completely in the dark as to the motive? What led to this? Was it Battler’s sin (remember that)? Was it because everyone needed a lot of money right now? What drove Beatrice, whoever she may identify as, to the events of 1986?

We will hopefully find out soon (though Yen hasn’t scheduled it yet) with the 7th arc of Umineko: Requiem of the Golden Witch. I’m sure it will be happy and filled with good times – after all, Bernkastel will be in charge of this arc. What could possibly go wrong?

Death March to the Parallel World Rhapsody, Vol. 1

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By Hiro Ainana and shri. Released in Japan by Fujimi Shobo. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jenny McKeon.

For all that we talk about the cliche of the “transported to another world” genre (‘isekai’ in Japan), we haven’t actually seen too many pure examples of the genre itself in the light novels we’ve had translated. There have been slight variations – DanMachi essentially works on the same principles, only Bell is not from another world. SAO and Log Horizon have people trapped in literal game worlds. We’ve seen deconstructions, like Re: Zero and Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash. And next month we’ll see an outright parody with KonoSuba. Even this series I’m reviewing today, which comes closest to the original form, has a variation in that the hero is a late-20s salaryman in his old teenage body, and thus his thoughts are more of an adult’s. And honestly, there’s a reason we haven’t seen too many of the ‘standard’ types of isekai novels: they’re standard male wish-fulfillment.

Our hero is Satou, a game designer who falls asleep after a rough coding session and wakes up in a desert-like area where he’s about to be killed by lizard people. He thinks he’s dreaming and imagining he’s in a game, mostly as he can see his stats on a screen in front of him. So he tries the stupidly overpowered move that he and his boss were discussing earlier, which causes a giant meteor shower to take out the enemy. And then a bigger one to take out a dragon god. Doing this levels Satou up to absolutely ridiculous levels, and since he also has a Bag of Infinite Holding and a giant pile of money… even most self-insert fanfics don’t go this far. He goes to the nearest city, which is battling wyverns and demons and such, and slowly learns about the world he’s now in. Very, very slowly.

The difficulty with these male power fantasy books is that the hero is meant to be one that the reader can just swap out and substitute with themselves, and as a result can’t have too many signifying traits that might differ from said reader. This means that the novel’s big weakness is Satou, who is a giant yawning void where a protagonist should be. Since he’s got a teenage body but his mind is that of his old 29-year-old game developer self, he’s rather calm and stoic about things like love. And since he WAS a game designer, he can handle most of the cliches that come his way to try to kill him, especially as he’s got his God Stats, his Unlimited Items, and his Unlimited Money. Stoic emotionless heroes can work in the right context – Overlord and The Irregular at Magic High School have similar types. But there needs to be something behind them, something other than “well, here’s a monster, splat, OK, next?”. Also, he needs to stop telling everyone he’s not a lolicon every other line, or folks are going to get suspicious.

As for the rest of the book, well, it was all right. I never thought I’d say this about any work ever, but: this book is crying out for a tsundere to get angry with the hero. The female knight Satou saves falls for him immediately, and the three slaves he takes on (Satou is against slavery, but circumstances are such that he can’t do much about it) are all fairly meek and willing to do anything he says. If there is one bright light in this book, it is the stat updates that accompany Satou whenever he does anything, which range from the practical to the hilarious, and are easily the best part of the book. If you want to see what a garden variety isekai work is, you may want to give Death March a try. Everyone else is better off sticking with the subversions, deconstructions and parodies, though.

Fruits Basket Collector’s Edition, Vol. 9

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By Natsuki Takaya. Released in Japan by Hakusensha, serialized in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Sheldon Drzka.

This review contains spoilers that everyone knows. If you don’t know them, you can stop reading here.

At the time that Fruits Basket was first coming out, both in Japan and North America, it had a sizeable BL fandom. In fact, one might very well argue the BL fandom was far larger than the het fandom for this particular title. Not really a surprise – the series is filled with pretty boys, and some of them even play up to this stereotype (Shigure, Ayame, I’m looking at you). And BL fandom at the time (and to a certain extent today, though maybe not as much?) tended to demonize and bash any female character that got in the way of their pairings (not Tohru so much, but Rin got hit REALLY hard with this) as well as praise the “bad boy”. Which of course in Fruits Basket was Akito. Akito was a hot guy, so could be forgiven a little abuse here and there, right?

So with the revelation that Akito was actually a girl, raised as a boy (her gender is a secret to most of the cast as well as the reader), the fandom sort of exploded into bits. Half of it reacted much like Tohru did in this book, dropping to her knees and breaking down until Hanajima comes to her rescue (one of my favorite scenes in the entire manga, particularly Hana providing her own fanfare). The other half reacted with rage that Takaya-san would do this to their beloved Akito, who… was no longer as beloved as a girl. In fact, the fandom started to turn on her a bit. Reading it now almost ten years later, I am similarly torn, though admittedly not for the BL. Akito is clearly also part of this giant family of abuse, and we see a lot more of her mother Ren here – indeed, Ren kickstarts the plot that occupies much of the latter half of the book. On the other hand, Akito is still a spoiled, entitled brat, and lashes out in panic whenever anyone shows the slightest sign they’re going to leave her. It’s hard to read, but worth it.

Then there’s Rin and Haru, who’s plots get mostly resolved here. Rin suffers somewhat from being a dark mirror to Tohru, and so her quest to break the curse was always doomed to end in failure. Also, don’t trust the obviously untrustworthy woman, Rin. But Akito’s reaction to finding her opening “the forbidden box”, and her subsequent punishment, is nightmarish – you sense that if Kureno hadn’t found her, she would literally have died there. (Kureno has to talk a terrified maid into helping him, and judging by the head maid’s disparaging words after the fact, I suspect that said maid may have gotten fired after all.) Speaking of dark mirrors, the light side is Haru, who realizes he wanted to possess Rin more than he wanted to protect her. The dark side is Shigure, who wants Akito all for himself and is happy to shatter her preconceptions to do so – in fact, he has to do so due to the nature of the curse.

I admit these two volumes, as well as the first half of the next edition, are where I realized Shigure would always be my favorite. His possessive monologue about wanting to “crush Akito to a pulp”, as well as his dull-eyed stare as he thinks it, is some of Takaya’s finest work in he entire manga. And as if that wasn’t horrifying enough, his conversation with Rin right at the end implies he may have known about her fate and done nothing about it. Shigure can be both fascinating and completely awful, and I could analyze him all day. But I will instead say that this volume of Fruits Basket and the one after are, in my mind, the high points of the entire series. Even if they did crack the internet in half at the time.