Aoi Uroko to Suna no Machi / Mermaid Scales and the Town of Sand by Komori Yoko

The other day, at the library, I picked up this poignant manga, Aoi Uroko to Suna no Machi/Mermaid Scale and the Town of Sand from the award-winning author Komori Yoko.

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I want to begin this review with a little aside that is mostly apropos of nothing, except that I am frustrated at people who jump to conclusions about anime and manga.

Just the other day, on The Internet, someone on my Feed posted this cartoon:

Which, yeah.

Not going to defend the pedophile. No f*cking way.

However, what bummed me out, was the extent to which all of the people reading this immediately jumped into the comments to say, “THIS is why I can never get into anime and manga.” I forced myself to hold my fingers from the keyboard as I scrolled past these comments because no good comes from attempting to defend the undefendable. There is no way to wade into the comment thread and say, “Bah, stuff like that doesn’t exist in manga!” because, of course, it does exist (and I’ve reviewed some of it here!). There are entire genres of ecchi and yaoi and yuri with very underaged-looking people and, of course, all that fan service sh*t.

Thanks to that, there’s nothing a person can say.

Even so, it still frustrates me because this is why, as an adult, I get side-eyed when I’m in the teen room at the library checking out manga. And, believe me, I HAVE gotten dark looks–even when the manga I’m checking out is Mermaid Scales and the Town of Sand, which is a story of a middle school-aged girl working through her complicated feelings around her parent’s divorce and the subsequent upheaval of moving from Tokyo to a small, seaside town in Japan.

The art in this manga is just stunning… despite it’s unusual, simplistic style.

And the story is sophisticated.

Tokiko remembers a mermaid rescuing her from drowning when she was four years old. She and her family were visiting her mothers’ hometown by the sea, and her mother had fallen asleep on the shore. Tokiko had wandered off too far slipped off what looks like the continental shelf, into a fathomless drop. Her memories are so vivid she can recall the color of the mermaid’s brilliant blue scales. (Which is the aoi [blue] of Aoi Uroko [Blue Scales] of the Japanese title, if you were wondering.)

Now, Tokiko’s parents are separated and her father has brought Tokiko back to this seaside town in order to live with her mother’s mother, while he searches for a new job. This town seems to have some strange connections to mermaids and a sea god known as Wadatsumi. On top of all these mysteries, there is a boy in her new school who looks hauntingly like the merman she remembers. All of it, Tokiko believes is, somehow, is connected to her mother.

And it is… though the fantasy elements never fully materialize, except as metaphors.

What I ended up loving about the story is how much of it is a quiet, contemplative look at what is essentially the grief of that moment (or moments) when you first discover that your parents are human beings with flaws, who make sometimes quite terrible mistakes. Although in this case, the biggest mistake Tokiko’s mom seems to make is being a bit of an airhead who falls for a man who isn’t Tokiko’s father. Even so, from Tokiko’s point of view this is something so complicated to contemplate that she has to learn to put in a box and drop into the deepest ocean of her subconscious until she’s ready to deal with it.

I enjoyed, too, watching this small town embrace Tokiko. She immediately makes friends and has the kinds of adventures I remember having at that age–where the group dares itself to enter the long, dark tunnel that’s been closed off. Is it dangerous because its structurally unsound… or is there a MONSTER lurking in there??

So, yeah, I just read a book about middle schoolers. I don’t know what that makes me. Never mind that Mermaid Scales and Town of Sand was marketed as josei in Japan to an adult, female audience.

Sigh.

At any rate, I’d recommend it, if you can withstand the dark looks.

Kyuujitsu no Warumono-san / Mr. Villain’s Day Off by Morikawa Yuu

If you’ve ever asked yourself “I wonder what Dr. Doom [fill-in other favorite villain] does on his day off? Does he go shopping in his full armor and cape or what? What’s he like when he relaxes?” then Kyuujitsu no Warumono-san / Mr. Villain’s Day Off is for you.

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If you’re looking for something fun and light, with a tiny bit of a heart, this manga is nearly perfect. There are a couple of weird subplots that I skim when I hit them (namely a very out of place story of a friendship between an oak tree spirit and a cherry tree spirit, but also some of the origin stories of the Good Guys–oh, and, of course, the weird Santa stuff), but, otherwise, I’m fully sold on this concept.

I tend to like really like fictional villains, however.

Over Easter weekend, I was on a panel at MiniCON that was meant to plumb the depth of this question, “Why do we like to ship dark with light?” but it got derailed by a fellow panelist insistent on shaming us for enjoying immoral and “cruel” characters. I’ve since spent a lot of time pondering the questions we were never allowed to fully consider. One of the conclusions I’ve come to is that it is inherently sexy to consider, “What is this person like when they’re at home, relaxed?” It unveils them, right? Being shown this intimate moment makes the person automatically more vulnerable, exposed, and authentic.

Thus, with villains, the stakes are higher. Vulnerable is something they are never meant to be.

The villain is also someone who is often larger-than-life. Thus, the instant we start to imagine them as “real” people who need to do their laundry or decide which ice cream to buy at a 7/11, they just become ridiculous. It’s just funny to think about. Cute. This is the same reason why Way of the House Husband doesn’t have to work that hard to be funny. The situation is already hilarious. Gangsters doing battle with the dishes (or, famously, a roomba), is just… it’s absurd and ridiculous and fun.

As soon as you take the villain off the battlefield, strip him of the costume of his office, he becomes… something else. More human, certainly, but possibly even, this guy:

I also love that he’s gracing the convenience store with his presence. That’s some prime villainy, right there.

One of the things I ended up liking about this manga is that we aren’t expected to believe that The General is anyone all that terribly different when he’s “on,” as opposed to when he is “off.” In fact, we get a very early scene in one first chapters in which we see the The General entirely from the point of view of a new recruit. The General is terrible to behold (and if you watch the anime in Japanese, the voice actor is great at sounding completely evil and threatening when just saying “hello,”) but he sees this overworked subordinate and says, “Listen, this war won’t be won overnight. Leave some of this work for tomorrow. Go home, relax.” And… this scene does a couple of things. First, as I noted, it establishes that The General is really just a guy who values time off, not only for himself, but for everyone, including his lowliest subordinate. Second, when we later see The General being kind to strangers and animals, it feels believable. Like, maybe The General is a good guy, deep down, being Evil is just his job.

But he is good at his job.

And I really appreciate that. Half way through what’s out on the scanlations so far, I found myself craving more and more of the “on” persona. This guy–

The one with the tail and the claws.

I was glad to see more of The General “at work,” because I think this story works best where there’s a bit of a balance. There are times both in the manga and the anime where, if I’m not reminded that this guy is the Big Bad, it could stray into boring.

Except that I’m also a fan of manga where the entire plot is, “and we go camping.” I think it helps that The General is not from Earth. You can see the ears, but we also see that the headquarters is on some dark shadow moon and the characters often speak of a far away, Mother Star. As an aside: This may be a direct reference to The Power Rangers, but I never watched because I am a fake fan. The Rangers clearly ARE the Power Rangers, they all go by color names and the one adult female character is, in fact, the Pink Ranger. My point is, slice-of-life stuff often works better for me when the characters are doing something uniquely Japanese-feeling, such as finding wonder in nature.

Like, there’s an entire chapter where The General just goes to the beach.

I can’t believe I got this far without noting that The General is also weirdly obsessed with pandas. This is actually a huge part of the humor.

Anyway, I love the art, particularly whenever we get a glimpse of The General’s darker persona beneath the hair.

As the anime is how I found this manga, I would recommend, weird Santa Claus stuff included

Hikaru ga Shinda Natsu / The Summer Hikaru Died by Mokumoku Rei

Hikaru ga Shinda Natsu / The Summer Hikaru Died is a poignant, deeply sublimated, barely acknowledged (but definitely queer) love story between a boy and… the monster that returned in the body of his dead friend. A new genre, perhaps? Horror Romance or Romance Horror?

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Yoshiki has a problem. His best friend (and unrequited love) Hikaru went missing in the mountains. In desperation, Yoshiki went looking for him and found a body, but before he could tell anyone, he collapsed with a fever. When Yoshiki woke up, who should have miraculously returned but Hikaru?

Yoshiki knows that what came back isn’t Hikaru.

But he can’t decide if that matters. The thing that is wearing his friend’s body has many of Hikaru’s memories and Hikaru was such a precious friend that it’s important to know that in Japanese, the title of this manga can be read two ways. It can be as published with Hikaru’s name, or it can be read: The Summer the Light Died.

There’s no question that Yoshiki is gay. Mokumoku-sensei teases around the edges saying it explicitly, out loud, but all the signs say “yes.” In their first scene together, Hikaru teases Yoshiki that he’s so awkward and serious about the question he’s about to ask that it seems like the build-up to a love confession. At another point, Yoshiki says he’ll never have a girlfriend. When he has a feeling of being suffocated by their small, rural town, several of the pressures seem to be in expectation of marriage. Moreover like many of us who grew up in a small town, Yoshiki is looking for others like him–in the scene above, knows that the fight that one of the village’s families is having isn’t about the fact that their heir is sick, but that he’s gay.

The Hikaru of the past–whom we see a lot in flashback–is completely clueless–or at least plays that way, because the Hikaru who is inhabited by something else, however, seems to be aware that Yoshiki was important to the Real HIkaru.

I feel safe calling it gay.

Especially since everything else Mokumoku-sensei has drawn is yaoi. Nandemo Shite kureru Doukyuusei / A Classmate Who Will Do Anything For You is straight-up smut, whereas Period is a bit more subtle in the romance department. You only get the “gay” in the final panel. (Note: Period is a well-written, if disturbing one-shot about the kind of love that has you helping bury the body… literally.)

Plus, as someone who also spent my high school years closeted this reads very real. Yoshiki will say something like “he’s not sick, he’s gay,” but when Hikaru asks if that’s some GLBT thing, possibly opening up an opportunity for Yoshiki to say more about it, Yoshiki will just shrug it off and go gloomy. <–High school me feels seen. When you’re deeply closeted sometimes you just try out saying the thing, but then back the hell off. These two do that dance constantly throughout.

The Summer Hikaru Died was published as seinen according to Wikipedia, though Baka-Updates has it as both seinen and Boys’ Love. I will say that I tend to trust Baka-Updates, as they seemed to be more aware of the kinds of things the original publisher tend to publish. But, this sort of thing is very seinen, especially with all the horror elements and the deep, deep sadness of the whole thing.

I found this whole thing INTENSELY compelling. I’m always interested in supernatural stories that ask the question “What does it mean to be human? To have a Soul?” Especially, when the mangaka doesn’t pull any punches and let’s Hikaru be scary, strange, and… murderous. There are a lot of scary monsters throughout, don’t go in expecting something strange and wonderful. It’s strange and wonderful, but also SCARY and horrible.

And I love it.

Plus, the art is fantastic.

I even love the art of Mokumoku-sensei’s smut!

So, if you think you can stand a heavy dose of tragedy and horror, I highly recommend this one. (If not, the smut is cute.)

Aku no Himitsu Soushiki Neko / The Evil Secret Society of Cats by Pandania

Aku no Himitsu Soushiki Neko/ The Evil Secret Society of Cats has worked its wicked spell on me, because this series is as addictive as it is adorable (literally their superpowers.)

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You know, I’ve reviewed a number of manga like this from Chi’s Sweet Home to Wonder Cat Kyuu-chan and there’s not a lot I can really say about the cuteness of cats that is groundbreaking. As a cat owner–or am I a member of the human arm of the Evil Secret Society???–I have to say that this one had some real laugh out loud moments for me. I was particularly charmed by the evil society’s ability to make tough guys melt.

If you’re in the mood for something simple, funny, and wholesome, I fully recommend this series. My only caveat being that if you have never read a 4-koma manga before, they do take a little getting used to. Not much? But, like that first time you picked up a manga, you just have to orient yourself to the direction of the story. It becomes natural after only a few pages.

The whole series is just this, on repeat, with wonderful puns like, “There’s a Mew Villain in Town,” and “The Pawful Truth!”

Why would you not love this?

I think that that only thing that American audiences have to contend with is that, unlike our Japanese counterparts, we have to go into the children’s section of the library (or bookstore) to read this. In Japan, The Evil Society of Cats was published as josei. Josei was traditionally marketed to MATURE WOMEN, though the category has become slippery over time. Still, The Evil Society of Cats, at worst would be in the pile with any number of manga for women and girls. In Japan, I wouldn’t have to feel like some kind of creeper sneaking into the juvenile area without a kid in tow.

…And, once again proving that I’m certain librarians (or English language publishers) never read the manga they buy:

Because, you know, my kindergartener was always thinking about the sweet release of death.

Anyway. Please enjoy responsibly.

Kakukaku Shikajika / Blank Canvas: My So-Called Artist’s Journey by Higashimura Akiko

I feel like I need to apologize to my regular readers. I have not been reading a lot of smut this year. What can I say? I’ve been stuck hanging out at the local library and this what happens…

I promise that will change.

In the meantime, in keeping with my policy of reviewing everything I’ve been reading, I present: Kakukaku Shikajika / Blank Canvas: My So-Called Artist’s Journey, This manga is another memoir/autobiography of a mangaka, this time by the author of Princess Jellyfish.

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Despite the fact that I have literally read dozens of manga about manga, both fictionalized and autobiographical, I’m still often very sucked into these kinds of stories.

I suspect that one reason is that, more often than not, I can see a hint of my own creative journey in them. For those of you who don’t already know, I make my living as a fiction writer. Not unlike becoming a mangaka, becoming a published author is a weird, highly-competitive, often heartbreaking career. A lot of people want this job, but not many of us actually make it–and those of us who do (to varying definitions of “success”)–have a lot of ups and downs… usually more of the latter than former.

In this way, I’m probably uniquely well-suited to appreciate stories like Kakukaku Shikajika / Blank Canvas: My So-Called Artist’s Journey, so bear that in mind as you read this review. Because, honestly, in many ways, if you’ve read one, you’ve basically read them all.

Hagashimura-sensei, however, is a skilled enough storyteller to be aware that she needs to have a twist on the usual formula in order to standout. So, Kakukaku Shikajika (which literally translates as So-and-So and Such-and-Such), is framed as a kind of love letter to a teacher, Hidaka Kenzou, who she would would refer to as ‘sensei’ for the rest of her life. She gives you much of what you may have come to expect from this kind of memoir, but the story basically begins with Akiko’s introduction to Hidaka and his strange little seaside studio, and it ends with his death.

The series, I should note, is complete in 5 volumes.

And, it’s a very compelling story.

Hidaka’s devotion to fine art and, eventually, to Akiko, is as strange, brash, and honest as Hagashimura-sensei portrays him. Hidaka just a good dude, in that way that your cranky, yelling uncle can be a good dude, you know? And, kind of like with an uncle like that, Akiko doesn’t QUITE know what to do with his affection. In fact, a large part of the series is Akiko coming to terms with the fact that she lied to, ignored, and ultimately sort of mistreated a guy who was really just trying to look out for her in the best way he knew how.

Her excuse, which I think is valid, is that Akiko came of age in a time when admitting to wanting to be a mangaka was a little like me announcing I was going to write science fiction in the 1980s. Like, science fiction for me (and manga for her), at that time, was seen as something that only really maladjusted NERDS were into and no one (and especially not one’s parents or mentors) could fathom how anyone would actually make money doing such malarky.

Because of this stigma, Akiko ends up going to university for Fine Art. Her sensei, Hidaka, assumes that this is her dream and so, unwittingly, ends up pressuring her to be his kind of artist, that is to say “serious.” Eventually, she realizes that, no, she just doesn’t have the passion for that. What she really, really wants to do is the “crass” art of manga writing and drawing.

I think this sort of decision can be somewhat universal? Like, it’s the moment that some of us have had when we realize that there are jobs and there are VOCATIONS. I’ve had lots and lots of jobs (some of them, like Akiko, even after I’d broken into publishing), but writing has always been my VOCATION, my passion. In a lot of ways, this is her struggle: realizing that sometimes we’re just called to do weird things. The universe comes knocking and says, “Yes, this twisted road is the one for you.”

Once Akiko starts devoting her time and energy to this “lesser” art, she feels more and more guilty about not doing the kind of art Hidaka wanted her to. Once she starts getting published in more and more places that people read, she eventually has to confess the truth to him. Turns out, he’s more than fine with her choice, but, fundamentally, their relationship has already broken down at this point. Plus, as we all know from the six dozen other manga about manga we’ve all read, being a mangaka requires an insane (to the point of being health-damaging) amount of overtime.

The story itself, then, is bittersweet.

Even when Hidaka reaches out to her when he’s been diagnosed with lung cancer, Akiko is not able to drop everything to spend the time that’s likely needed to repair their relationship. To be fair to her, it’s not just her career at this point, that’s keeping her in Osaka, but also her child, whom she raising alone after a divorce.

As an aside? Apparently, she wrote a whole manga about this child? I say this because it’s sort of just presented in the series as matter-of-course that we know how this kid came along and how she feels about it all, but I really had no idea, not having read that particular manga (which MIGHT be Mama wa Tenparist, which apparently translates as Mama at Wit’s End, which also seems highly relatable.)

That’s the thing about Higashimura-sensei. She writes characters and is herself a character who is very relatable. Even coming to this with no interest in manga creation or publishing, I think a reader could enjoy this just as a slice-of-life story? There are moments, when Higashimura-sensei jumps around in the chronology of the narrative in a way that you can only do when the readers understands that this is Real Life, but, generally, it reads far more like a story than a lot of others.

The art is, of course, quite good. According to some source I read (possibly the Wikipedia page) several of the volumes include extra sketchbook pages to show off her finer art. I will admit that after having checked the first one out from the library, I failed to figure out how to use my new St. Paul Public Library card (I am a more regular user of a different system, Ramsey County), got frustrated, and just read the scanlations. Because I read online through the pirates, I’m not sure I saw all the art, though I may have.

At any rate, I do recommend this one, if you’re up for more memoir.

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna / She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat by Yuzaki Sakaomi

At the library, I came across this lovely, wholesome yuri, She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat. In a lot of ways, this feels like someone said, “What if, What Did You Eat Yesterday? but lesbians?!” Except, unfortunately, it turns out that women have complicated relationships with food all over the world.

CONTENT WARNING: Food, Eating Disorders, Fatphobia, Nonconsensual food restriction, Shaming around Food Consumption

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Nomoto, just like the title tells you, loves to cook. If she has any problem, it’s that, as a single gal, she has a tendency to make way more than she can reasonably eat. One day, on the way home from work, she runs into her neighbor, Kasuga, a big woman who clearly likes to eat.

I have to tell you? I was immediately in love with Kasuga. She’s possibly the butchest woman I have ever seen in a yuri. She’s fucking huge and has a belly, but is not portrayed as “ugly fat,” or even “custesy fat,” do you know what I mean? She looks LIKE ME. Like, I have wider hips, bigger boobs, and am way, way shorter, but this is my body type. I’m just kind of a presence. Big, taking up space, enjoying the fuck out of my sixteen buckets of KFC.

I love her.

And, so does Nomoto. At first, this is a friendship of convenience, ala, “I like to cook, you like to eat, let’s make an arrangement.” But, very quickly, we see Naomoto adore the way that Kasuga eats–she full-body enjoys a good meal.

I could have read pages and pages of these two women just cooking meals together, shopping, and eating, but, early on, we get a hint that there’s a dark cloud around Kasuga’s relationship with food. She refuses to be shamed into eating less, but it’s clear she gets harassed. Part of why she quickly agrees to eating in with Nomoto is not only because it reduces cost, but also because she doesn’t have to put up with cooks and waiters who will short change her and not offer her the portion-sizes she wants.

Which is only the tip of the bullsh*t iceberg.

It turns out that Kasuga grew up in a “traditional” household where it was simply understood that the girls and women of the family got fed second, ate the leftovers that the men and boys couldn’t finish.

What is frustrating about this tidbit of information is that I normally like to corroborate what I read and link to articles to show that, yes, this a thing. But, if you google this idea, all you get are articles on why it’s healthy to eat less and how the Japanese are so GREAT at staying thin, and you can too with portion control! You can put in the ACTUAL WORDS ‘food abuse in Japan’ and what you get back are 10 great ways to stay thin, the Japanese way!

It’s enraging.

Because this is abuse.

And THANK GOD that is how it’s framed in this manga. Kasuga still gets pressure from her family to return home and be a dutiful daughter, they even pull the “you need to care for your aging mother,” but she simply refuses. She’s like, look, you fed the boys, let the boys do the work for once.

They later get a new neighbor who has been shamed about her inability to eat much. I’m less clear about what’s going on with her (she reads to me as someone with a fairly serious eating disorder, but it’s presented as ‘just her way of being,’ which it very well might be). Regardless, both Kasuga and Nomoto find ways to include her in the fun without the pressure to partake.

Nomoto also does something you don’t see as often in yuri, too, which is that she has that scene that I’ve talked about in yaoi, where the main character suddenly decides that ‘maybe gay?’ and actually does research into it. Nomoto’s is very natural, actually? She does some Googling and gets some information, but what really makes her start to understand her own lesbianism is connecting with a fellow food blogger who retweeted a link to a lesbian movie.

What I love about this manga is that I was briefly worried that the new blogger was going to become a rival love interest, and be the thing that pushes the two women together… but no. The mangaka doesn’t go there. Women don’t exist to tear each other down. Instead the blogger becomes a confidant immediately, someone for Nomoto to have as a sounding board for her new feelings.

And then the blogger comes out as ace/aro, and I’m like, IS YUZAKI-SENSEI TRYING TO MAKE A PERFECT MANGA FOR ME??? Because they have succeeded.

Anyway, if you can survive some of triggering food related stuff, this might also be a perfect manga for you. I love the art. Everyone is drawn cute, but real. Like, our new neighbor also looks like a traditional lesbian? It makes me very happy. I will recommend it heartily to anyone who can read about food.

Or watch…. as there is a live-action tv series, although finding a version of it that’s not riddled with spyware may be difficult. It looks cute as f*ck, though.

Kimi no Sekai ni Koi Wanai? / Is Love The Answer by Isaki Uta

Kimi no Sekai ni Koi Wanai/ Is Love the Answer? is another sort of fictionalized “intro course to a sexual minority” manga that seems really popular these days. It reminded me a little of Watashi wa Kabe ni Naritai/I Want to Be The Wall, though of the two, for my money ,…Wall is the more interesting story. But, if you liked that one, or are generally interested in manga about ace and/or aro characters, Is Love The Answer? might be for you.

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I don’t know what was up with 2020 in Japan.

It seems to have been the year to publish manga like this–X Gender, Until I Love Myself, and this all came out in the same year in Japan. I mean, maybe the pandemic made Japanese mangaka introspective about their various sexual and gender identities? Or maybe Japan is generally having a kind of wake-up call to finally enter an era of more tolerance for LBTQIA+/queer folks? (For those of you who don’t know, despite some minor steps forward, gay marriage is still illegal in Japan. By comparison, Taiwan legalized gay marriage in 2019.)

Not that I’m complaining! It’s just a curious trend among Japanese manga publishers. Although given the sheer volume of manga that come out every year, what I am probably actually noticing is a trend among English-language translation rights buying and the similar trend among the purchasing choices of my public library. As I found all of these titles there.

So, about Kimi no Sekai ni Koi Wanai/ Is Love the Answer? The story follows a young AFAB person (she identifies as a woman, but sometimes feels agender), Chika, who goes through a self-discovery of her asexuality in college. We see her struggles with relationships and sex in high school, but the real story starts when Chika has a kind of miraculous meeting with That One Professor Who Changes Everything at a college club recruitment party.

In what maybe feels a bit alien to American audiences, the professor in question, Ishi Shinobu, ends up agreeing to let Chika, a first year student, come to her house to hang out. There Chika meets Ume, another asexual, who she later grows quite fond of.

Somehow, they all end up in a communal house, living together? I have to admit, this situation–as weird as it kind of seems when you think about a professor (and their husband?) hosting a bunch of kids–has always been a kind of fantasy of mine? Like, not the professor part, but having a house where I could collect strays-like-me? Sounds awful when I say it like that, but what I’m trying to articulate is that there’s a found family aspect to this living situation that is really fantastically appealing. Like, if I were these people, I’d totally want to live here.

The rest of the story revolves around Chika’s college friend group: a fujoshi and a gay guy. Each of them have similar stories of learning self-acceptance and discovering broader definitions of themselves as sexual (or not) people. There is het couple in this mix of college friends, but it takes some times to fold them into the friend group, though they are part of this cohort of psychology-major first years set-up by the school. It’s a kind of a forced family group, in that sense.

But, I liked this one?

I’m not sure how well it reads for someone seeking ace representation, however. The mangaka talks in the back about their motivations for writing this and they really wanted to show someone healthy, who has friends, and possibly even an affection interest (Ume.) I could see how Ume’s presence might feel to some readers as unnecessary and, possibly, even anthesis to the whole point of an asexual heroine.

However…

I know a couple of ace folks who are married and very happy with having someone to cuddle. It really *is* a spectrum, is my point, and so, for myself, someone who feels part of this spectrum but on the shallow end, if you will, I found this story heartwarming and positive.

You are allowed to feel otherwise, of course. In fact, that’s an issue that’s discussed A LOT in this manga. There are all sorts of asexual people represented here. I sort of love the professor and their husband? Like, probably, the idea that these two married because, as you age, it’s nice to have someone who can make medical decisions for you, seems weird and alien to a younger reader… BUT TRUST ME THIS IS VERY RELATABLE AS YOU AGE.

And look at these two dorks! They’re just so f*cking cute together.

So, I am a fan. You may not be for various reasons.

I could see a criticism of this manga being: it’s kind of a nothing burger. That’s accurate? The stakes are low (outside of personal stakes, at least, and those really can be summed up: I don’t fit all the definitions, but this is who I am right now.) This is the kind of slice-of-life where you really just have to be interested in random people’s random lives for it to have any appeal. Also, I would imagine that for the average Western asexual this is so 101 as to feel extremely basic and not “worth” the read. I do think, however, this is a manga that’s aimed squarely at the questioning segment of its readership. The whole thing is a very gentle reminder to be open, but not to overthink. It’s okay to have one toe in the asexual stream and not call yourself ace, for instance, or… to go ahead and call yourself that for now. This manga is just really reassuring.

And I liked it.

The art is more typical of a josei manga, but well rendered. I recommend it, but as always mileage may vary.

Neko no Massageya-san / Cat Massage Therapy by Hisakawa Haru

I do this thing whenever I’m at a bookstore that sells manga that’s kinda BAD–like, I feel a little terrible about it.

I pick up anything I think I’d enjoy, make a pile, and then try to figure out what I can afford. I mean, that part is normal behavior, right? But–and here’s where I feel guilty–before putting everything back on the shelf, I take a quick look to see if anyone has scanlated the titles I wanted but couldn’t afford.

That’s how I discovered Cat Massage Therapy.

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The whole manga is full color, which is pretty unusual… and the entire thing is so adorable, that, I mean, if you can afford to buy this, I would?

The basic story is exactly as it says on the tin. There’s a massage parlor run by a cat. She seems to communicate telepathically, but, you know, don’t think too hard about the world-building, just enjoy the ridiculously cute art.

I mean, there are trainees.

WHO ARE KITTENS.

Honestly, the entire manga is based in the idea that there is nothing more relaxing in the world than a basket full of kittens purring on your chest. In many ways, the manga works on this same principle. There is nothing more wholesome and chill than an entire manga devoted to just showing pictures of precious smols doing cute things.

Read this manga.

The pain will melt away.

There’s kind of nothing to spoil. You’ve seen it. This is the whole manga, except with more. I mean, there is a small plot revolving around this human character and how he helps drum up more business for the cat masseuse by bringing the cats into his super stressful/oppressive office (and, by doing do, melts the heart of his boss.) But, like, really, we are all just here for the cuteness, so gimme.

Please enjoy responsibly.

But do in enjoy. You know it’s what you need in your life RIGHT NOW.

Hate no Shoutsuushin / Correspondence from the End of the Universe by Menota

I guess I was in a quirky mood when I was at Barnes & Noble, because the other manga I picked up was Hate no Shoutsuushin / Correspondence from the End of the Universe. It’s even weirder than Box of Light? But, the characters got me, and so now I’m hooked.

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This manga actually kind of hard to explain because it requires the reader to buy into a very ridiculous premise. Namely, that the Clockwork God (the idea of a god that set creation in motion, like a clock, and then wandered off to do something else) is real and there is a department of creation that has taken over building new planets in his (or, I guess, His) absence.

Weirder still, the people who work at this star/planet laboratory are conscripted.

They’re just going about their lives, until one day, they are dematerialized and rematerialized at Mosly Station, where they’re assigned for ten years, like it or not, no escaping. In fact, we discover that our hero’s predecessor was abducted on her wedding night and spent several of her first days just sobbing and weeping.

!!

Our hero is a young Russian (why Russian? I have no idea, except that maybe it was easier to slot a Russian into a world where that implies the existence of the Christian god.) Marko has felt haunted by aliens from the age of eleven when he was struck by a freak bolt of lightning on a clear, sunny day. He has a kind of Harry Potter scar that he’s always tried to hide.

At any rate, Marko is now graduating college and is ready to set off into the world with the love of his life (whose gender and name we never know–the only thing we know about them is that they’re older than Marko, have been a childhood friend, and never learned to swim). Suddenly, just as he’s made plans to meet his lover and propose marriage, he’s dematerialized.

And rematerializes beyond the stars to this star/planet factory at the end of the universe.

Honestly, it only gets progressively weirder from there?

All of Marko’s colleagues are aliens. There’s a girl with slug hands, there’s the typical red oni buddy, who can transform his hands into giant lobster claws; and the Director who has to always wear a mask because otherwise he transforms into whatever the person looking at him is most afraid of.

Yet, despite the very oddball cast and even stranger premise, Marko is a compelling hero because he’s incredibly kindhearted. On his first outing, the Director (who isn’t really in charge, but he’s from a planet has longer years, and so his “ten year sentence” passes in a hundred years, to most of the other people’s ten) and Marko end up on a spaceship in need of repairs and first aid. Even though Marko initially hoped to escape to Earth by stowing away on this ship, he ends up adopting a child whose twin gets killed in an accident.

The relationship between Marko and his adoptee is incredibly heartwarming. Marko lost his parents in a car accident and so he and this small child alien, Muu, relate a lot on the topic of grief in ways that, given how stupid the premise is, are really poignant, like, seriously made me tear up kind of poignant.

Oof. And, that’s not even the hardest scene with Muu.

At this point, I was kind of all in. There are at least five volumes out there, all available from Seven Seas. I highly recommend this one? I loved the art and found the story weird, but deeply compelling.

This one is a winner.

Hikari no Hako / Box of Light by Erisawa Seiko

A couple of weeks ago I met a friend for coffee at a Barnes & Noble. While I was there, I did my usual scan of the various manga titles. I would have loved to have taken home all the titles that seemed interesting, but, due to budget constraints, I had to pick just a couple.

One of the ones I picked was Box of Light. The back of the book describes it as a story about a connivence store that exists on the crossroad between life and death. And, I thought, “Okaaaaay, sure! Why not?”

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I actually started reading this manga immediately after I first bought it, but then set it down. I didn’t pick it up again for several weeks. Unfortunately, I think that’s because it’s not nearly as compelling in execution as it is as an IDEA.

The idea is solid. There’s this convenience store that people wander into when they’re on the verge of death. The first story is a prime example. A woman dying from overwork doesn’t quite know how she got away from work long enough to find herself wandering the aisles, but now that she’s here a snack or two sounds like just the thing to get her energy levels back so she can return to work. The whole book is full of these kinds of stories. Part of what is always in the reader’s mind is… oh, no, this person doesn’t know they’re already half-dead.

This should be a pretty riveting plot device.

Something about it doesn’t quite work for me. I’m not sure exactly why not.

I found myself far more interested in the chapter where the otherworldly bad guys attempted to replace the two parttime workers with self-checkout machines. I am also weirdly invested in the continued good health of “darkness cat,” a cyclops cat-shaped monster made of “darkness” (a kind of evil miasma) which is normally a bad thing, but this one eats other darknesses to protect the store for some reason.

And, I think that’s part of my issue with this one at the moment.

Usually, by the end of a first volume, I have a good sense of who is who and what the story wants to be. But, this one seems to be part anthology of stories of random people who are near death, and a light exploration of the world around the convenience shop. I think it might be better served if it were one or the other. I know I’d prefer a story about what the heck is this place and what purpose it serves and what exactly are shades, etc., etc.

I think that my sense that I don’t quite connect to this yet is that, outside of the cat/not cat, a lot of the art seems sort of uninspired? A bit flat?

It’s not a BAD manga, however. Maybe I just need to read more of it. I see there’s a volume 2 out (and scanlated.)