The Legend of Bold Riley

The Legend of Bold RileyCreator: Leia Weathington
Illustrator: Vanessa Gillings, Jason Thompson, Marco Aidala, Konstantin Pogorelov, and Kelly McClellan; Chloe Dalquist and Liz Conley

Publisher: Northwest Press
ISBN: 9780984594054
Released: June 2012

The Legend of Bold Riley is writer and illustrator Leia Weathington’s first graphic novel. Published by Northwest Press in 2012, the volume is a collection of related stories, each illustrated by a different artist. In addition to Weathington, Vanessa Gillings, Jason Thompson, Marco Aidala, Konstantin Pogorelov, and Kelly McClellan contributed their artistic skills to The Legend of Bold Riley, with Chloe Dalquist and Liz Conley assisting with some of the colors. I first became aware of The Legend of Bold Riley thanks to the involvement of Thompson (to whom I give partial credit for igniting my interest in manga). And it’s thanks to The Legend of Bold Riley that I discovered Northwest Press, a publisher specializing in queer comics, graphic novels, and anthologies. The Legend of Bold Riley is a sword and sorcery adventure featuring a princess as a hero. She also happens to be a lover of women. Happily, The Legend of Bold Riley doesn’t end with this collection. The second volume, Unspun is currently being serialized and Weathington has already started working on a third book.

Rilavashana SanParite, who would come to be known as Bold Riley, is the youngest child of the king and queen of the eastern nation of Prakkalore. She and her two older brothers are heirs to the throne, groomed to be fair and just rulers of the kingdom and knowledgeable in the arts of state in addition to the fine arts, sciences, history, and swordplay. But Riley finds that her heart lies somewhere beyond the walls of the capital city of Ankahla and even beyond the borders of Prakkalore. She wants to travel the world to see the places and meet the people she’s only ever read about in her studies. And so the princess sets out with a sword strapped to her side and a horse to carry her, first to the southern kingdom of Connchenn and then further to the jungles of Ang-Warr, the distant Qeifen, and all the lands in between. Over the course of her journey Riley meets gods and battles demons, the sharpness of her mind and wits just as valuable as the sharpness of her sword. She even falls into the bed of a lovely lady or two.

Although the stories in The Legend of Bold Riley all have continuity with one another, the prologue and the five individual chapters that follow can largely stand on their own once Riley has been introduced. As already mentioned, each chapter is illustrated by a different artist. Riley is always recognizable, but otherwise there is no attempt to have uniform artwork in the volume. Instead, the artists are given free rein, resulting in a marvelous assortment of different art styles and illustration techniques and a range of color palettes. The resulting shift of mood and atmosphere is quite effective in emphasizing the changes in the setting and the type of story being told from one chapter to the next. As Riley travels, visiting different countries and kingdoms, the artwork reflects those differences. The Legend of Bold Riley is diverse, and not just in its illustrations. The volume’s sceneries and stories take inspiration from the fantasy counterparts of India, Central and South America, Southeast Asia, and other areas.

The artwork in The Legend of Bold Riley may change from story to story, but Riley is always Bold Riley. She’s a fantastic and exceptionally appealing character, a dashing and daring young woman with strengths and weaknesses, remarkable talents, and human flaws. Although Riley’s sexuality is never the focus of the comic, it’s always a part of who she is as a person and as a well-rounded character. She falls in love, she makes mistakes, and she struggles and is challenged when faced with a world that’s not always black and white or even kind. The Legend of Bold Riley, while something new and refreshing, somehow also feels very familiar. It’s a collection of heroic tales, some ending in triumph and others ending in heartbreak. Because of its episodic nature there’s not a lot of character development, but Riley is such a great character to begin with that the work is still very satisfying. I thoroughly enjoyed The Legend of Bold Riley and look forward to reading more of Riley’s adventures in the future.

Ajin: Demi-Human, Volume 1

Ajin: Demi-Human, Volume 1Author: Tsuina Miura
Illustrator: Gamon Sakurai

U.S. publisher: Vertical
ISBN: 9781939130846
Released: October 2014
Original release: 2013

It was the cover art of Ajin: Demi-Human, Volume 1—a creepy image of disconcerting skeletal figure—that first sparked my interest in the series. When I learned that the manga was at least in part about immortals in addition to being fairly dark in tone, I knew that I wanted to read it. The exploration of immortality and its repercussions in fiction fascinates me. Series like Hiroaki Samura’s Blade of the Immortal and novels like Fumi Nakamura’s Enma the Immortal have actually been some of my favorite works of recent years. And so, I was very curious about Ajin. The first volume, written by Tsuina Miura and illustrated by Gamon Sakurai, was originally released n Japan in 2013. (Later volumes of the series are both written and illustrated by Sakurai.) The English-language edition of Ajin, Volume 1 was published by Vertical in 2014. The production values are particularly nice, with high-quality paper that really shows off Sakurai’s ink-heavy artwork.

Seventeen years ago, the first demi-human was discovered. Immortal, and perhaps something a little more, demi-humans are considered to be less than human—feared, despised, reviled, and subjected to horrific experiments in the name of science and for the advancement of humankind. Demi-humans seem to be rare, only forty-six have so far been identified, but that’s only because they appear to be normal humans, at least until they survive their first death. Most assumed Kei Nagai was an average high schooler, preoccupied with studying for his college entrance exams. But Kei’s hopes and dreams of becoming a successful doctor are shattered when he dies in a traffic accident, his body smashed into pieces. And then he comes back to life. Now he’s on the run, pursued by the general population, the police, the Demi-Human Control Commission, and even other demi-humans. His only ally is his friend Kai, who tries to help him escape, but that simply means that the two of them are in danger instead of Kei alone.

As in many other works about immortality, Ajin shows that living forever isn’t always something to be desired and can in fact bring a tremendous amount of pain and suffering. There’s the physical torment of death and injury in a body that revives again and again, but there’s also the mental and psychological damage to take into consideration as well. Kei has suddenly lost all of his rights as a person, he is being hunted as something not worthy of being human, his family and friends are filled with disgust towards him—of course this is going to have an impact on the young man. It would be exceedingly easy for him to lose his humanity or his sanity. Glimmers of those possibilities can be seen in the first volume of Ajin as Kei struggles to realign his worldview with his newfound reality. Granted, Ajin, Volume 1 largely focuses on the action surrounding Kei’s escape and explaining (not too subtly) the unusual abilities of the demi-humans. Not much character development has happened yet, but the potential is certainly there.

Ajin, Volume 1 is a good start to the series, though there is still room for improvement. In general, the artwork tends to be a little stronger than the writing at this point. The premise is interesting, and promising, but Sakurai’s illustrations are what really give Ajin its effectively dark atmosphere. Particularly chilling are the “black ghosts”—malignant extensions of the self capable of extreme violence which are able to be manifested and controlled by certain demi-humans. (That disconcerting figure from the cover? That’s a black ghost.) Humans are quite capable of shocking violence as well. Several examples of the gruesome experiments that have been conducted using demi-humans as test subjects are shown in Ajin, Volume 1. The methods are tortuous and the repeated deaths are cruel. So far, the only real difference between the two groups is that when bodies are mutilated or torn apart—which is not at all an uncommon occurrence in the first volume of Ajin—for better or for worse the demi-humans actually survive.

My Week in Manga: November 3-November 9, 2014

My News and Reviews

Last week at Experiments in Manga the winner of the Sherlock Bones manga giveaway was announced. As usual, I took the opportunity to compile a list of manga as well, in this case a list of manga available in English that feature detectives or other crime solvers. I also posted two reviews last week. The first review was of No. 6, Volume 9, the final volume of Hinoki Kino’s No. 6 manga adaptation. I’m happy to report that the manga has a much less rushed and much more complete ending than the anime adaptation had. And for something completely different, I also reviewed Ivan Morris’ translation of The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon last week. It may have been written in the tenth and eleventh centuries, but it’s still an engaging and enjoyable work.

Interesting reading found elsewhere online included a look at some of the most completely collected manga series in Japan, many of which have been licensed in English in whole or in part. (I was happy to see some of my personal favorites, like Parasyte and Hikaru no Go on the list.) Brigid Alverson has a nice overview of the current state of the manga industry in North America for School Library Journal. And over at A Case for Suitable for Treatment, Sean Gaffney has a roundup of some of the recent manga licenses from various publishers. There are also two surveys that are going on right now. Viz has its Fall 2014 Anime and Manga Survey and Vertical has its first ever light novel survey. Last but not least, Khursten Santos of Otaku Champloo has an excellent writeup of the Manga Futures conference recently held in Australia.

Quick Takes

Black Jack, Volume 14Black Jack, Volumes 14-17 by Osamu Tezuka. It’s a shame that much of Black Jack has gone out of print. Fortunately, Vertical announced just last week that it will be publishing ebooks of all its Tezuka manga, so readers who missed Black Jack in print will at least be able to read it digitally. Even though Black Jack isn’t my favorite Tezuka manga, I enjoy the series immensely and Black Jack is one of my favorite Tezuka characters. He can be a bit of a bastard, but there’s usually a reason for it and it tends to mostly be a cover for his extraordinary compassion. He’s also amazingly skilled. Some of the stories in Black Jack are fairly improbable although still highly entertaining while others are actually quite realistic. (Tezuka’s medical training comes in very handy for Black Jack.) Plastic surgery, specifically surgeries that are intended to change or hide a person’s identity, are particularly prominent in these final volumes. It provides an interesting contrast to Black Jack himself who rarely denies who he is. The seventeenth volume in Vertical’s edition of Black Jack also includes a handy guide to the publication history of the individual chapters.

Black Rose Alice, Volume 2Black Rose Alice, Volume 2 by Setona Mizushiro. I absolutely loved the first volume of Black Rose Alice and I remained captivated by the second. It’s a strange, dark, and disconcerting series. Mizushiro’s vampires are completely different from any other type of vampire that I’ve come across in fiction. I do like that, but it’s also challenging since readers can’t rely on an already established mythos or assume what it actually means to be a vampire; Mizushiro has to explain it all. I’m not sure that I actually understand everything that is going on with the vampires yet, but I’m assuming that more will be revealed as the series progresses. One thing is certain, though: they are definitely very creepy. In exchange for the life of the young man with whom she is in love, Azusa has entered into an agreement with a nest of vampires. Out of the four vampires, she must choose one to procreate with after which they will both die. The relationship dynamics are bizarre, and honestly a little discomforting, but very compelling as the vampires vie for her affections. It’s not as simple as choosing one of the vampires; in order to fulfill her agreement, she will actually have to come to love them. I’m really looking forward to reading more of Black Rose Alice.

Same DifferenceSame Difference by Nozomu Hiiragi. Tsuburaya and Ozaki are the elite of the elite, and both adored by the women at the company where they work. (So much so that the ladies literally swoon in their presence.) However, Ozaki isn’t used to sharing the attention, and so decides to make Tsuburaya fall in love with him, unintentionally falling for Tsuburaya in the process. Out of the two of them, Ozaki is more muscular and crude while Tsuburaya is more elegant and refined. Despite arguably being the more masculine and aggressive of the pair, Ozaki is often the one being out-maneuvered by Tsuburaya in their seemingly antagonistic relationship. It’s not that Tsuburaya dislikes Ozaki—quite the opposite, actually—it’s just that he has a sadistic streak and enjoys making the other man squirm. Same Difference is definitely played for laughs more than romance. Apparently the manga is actually an ongoing series that’s currently up to three volumes in Japan, which I hadn’t realized while reading it. Unfortunately, only the first volume has been licensed in English at this point. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind reading more of the series. It doesn’t have the most subtle, nuanced, or realistic characters or story, but it’s amusingly ridiculous and doesn’t take itself seriously at all.

The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon

The Pillow Book of Sei ShōnagonAuthor: Sei Shōnagon
Translator: Ivan Morris
U.S. publisher: Columbia University Press
ISBN: 9780231073370
Released: December 1991
Original release: 11th century

I’ve recently developed a particular interest in Heian-era Japan and literature. The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon is an important eleventh-century work that provides a glimpse into Heian society, especially that of the court and higher classes. Shōnagon was a lady-in-waiting to Empress Teishi as well as a contemporary and rival of Murasaki Shikibu, the author of The Tale of Genji and a lady-in-waiting who served Empress Shōshi. The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon has been translated into English, both in part and in its entirety, many times, the first translation appearing as early as 1889. Out of all of the English translations, I gravitated towards that of Ivan Morris’ whose works of nonfiction The World of the Shining Prince and The Nobility of Failure I thoroughly enjoyed. Excerpts of The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon were actually included in The World of the Shining Prince and I enjoyed his translation. Morris’ complete two-volume translation of The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon was published in 1967 by Columbia University Press. However, in 1971, an edited and abridged translation began to be released. It is this single-volume edition that is now more readily available and generally more approachable for the average reader, not to mention the version of The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon that I myself read.

The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon is a diary of sorts, a collection of thought and observances, lists and poetry. Most of the individual sections are short, some only a few paragraphs and the longest still being under fifteen pages. The volume isn’t arranged chronologically, some parts can’t even be definitely dated, but seeing as each section stands perfectly well on its own and there is no overarching “plot,” this isn’t particularly problematic. Shōnagon relates events and ceremonies that take place at court and at shrines, but she also details more personal affairs and gossip as well. The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon mostly deals with Heian-ea nobility and their lives, but the lower classes are occasionally mentioned, too, though usually with some disdain. While relatively little is known about Shōnagon outside of her own writings, it is clear she was a well-educated and intelligent women with a strong personality that brought her admirers as well as a those who could be considered her opponents.

While I haven’t read other translation of The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon and so am not able to offer comparisons, I was very pleased with Morris’ translation. I found it easy to understand, pleasant in its style, and overall very enjoyable. Morris’ translation presents an excellent balance between the literal and the literary. It reads well in English and yet retains a sense of poetic elegance. This particular edition of The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon also includes additional material for readers who are interested in the works’ specific historical context or in Heian-era Japan in general. Morris’ notes are copious and entire appendices are devoted to the calendar and time system, the government and its structure, places and their accompanying maps, an illustrated guide to clothing, households, carriages, instruments, and other daily objects, as well as several chronologies. A list of recommended reading is also given. In all, the supplementary material accounts for about a third of the volume’s total length.

I found The PIllow Book of Sei Shōnagon to be a very enjoyable and even charming read. However, it’s not a work to be read all at once or in a hurry. Instead, savoring a few sections here or there will generally provide a more pleasant reading experience. Shōnagon’s personality really comes through in her writings. She’s witty and sharp-minded, but also occasionally mean-spirited and a little self-important. Granted, as The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon serves at least in part as her diary, it’s not too surprising that she allows herself to express herself so freely within its pages. However, eventually she was quite aware that others were and would be reading the work as well. Even though centuries have passed since The Pillow Book of Sei Shōnagon was first written and compiled, it’s noteworthy how engaging and approachable the work can be for modern readers. Shōnagon was a keen observer of the people and society of her own time, but her humor and insights into human nature can still be appreciated even today.

No. 6, Volume 9

No. 6, Volume 9Creator: Hinoki Kino
Original story: Atsuko Asano

U.S. publisher: Kodansha
ISBN: 9781612627946
Released: October 2014
Original release: 2014

Released both in Japan and in English in 2014, No. 6, Volume 9 is the final volume of Hinoki Kino’s manga series No. 6, an adaptation of a series of science fiction novels written by Atsuko Asano. The manga adaptation felt a little hurried at first, but the series’ pacing, characterization, and world-building continued to improve with each new volume. I have very much been enjoying the No. 6 manga. My introduction to No. 6 was actually through the eleven-episode anime series from 2011, directed by Kenji Nagasaki. I largely enjoyed the anime, but was disappointed with its extraordinarily rushed ending. One of the reasons why I was particularly happy when Kodansha Comics licensed the No. 6 manga for an English-language release was that I was hoping for a more satisfying conclusion to the story. Though there are some similarities between the two (including the same character designs), the manga and the anime adaptations are different interpretations of Asano’s original No. 6, each with their own merits. I was definitely curious to see how Kino would end the series.

Shion and Rat have failed in their mission to rescue Safu from the Correctional Facility, barely managing to flee with their own lives. To make matters worse, Rat has been critically injured—shot in the chest while trying to protect Shion during their escape. Shion was able to give Rat first aid, but the other young man is in desperate need of proper medical attention. However, the facilities that could save Rat’s life don’t exist within West Block. No. 6, the city that Rat wishes above all else to destroy, holds his only hope, and it is now in chaos. The citizenship is dangerously close to revolt and fear is sweeping across the populace. Some of the turmoil was cause by Shion and Rat during their attack on the Correctional Facility, but there are also others within No. 6 itself who are seeking revenge against the state, fanning the flames of discontent. Rat and Shion have so far been able to survive, but their fight is far from over. Shion doesn’t even have time to grieve for Safu if he wants to prevent losing more of the people he loves dearly.

Because I started reading the No. 6 manga in part because I had seen the anime, at times it’s difficult for me not to compare the two. And as previously mentioned, I was particularly interested in how Kino would end the series. I’m not certain how it compares to Asano’s original novels, but the manga’s conclusion is much more comprehensive than the anime’s. (Actually, I can make some more sense out of the anime now that I have read the manga.) The last few volumes have been increasingly intense. The sudden relaxation of all of that tension in No. 6, Volume 9 is very disconcerting, and even a little anticlimactic, as the immediate danger passes. However, the Correctional Facility has been destroyed and the wall between No. 6 and West Block has begun to fall. There may be a temporary lull in which people momentarily feel safe, but peace will be a long time in coming as resentment and hatred still exist and pose a threat. Taking this into consideration, Kino’s ending allows for that and, while the ending is complete, there is a sense that the world of No. 6 and the struggle continues beyond the page.

Although No. 6, Volume 9, mostly provides a satisfying conclusion to the manga series, at times it does feel like it’s only really scratching the surface of a much more complicated and detailed story. However, all of the major plot threads are addressed and resolved, including the revelation of the meaning behind the parasitic bees and the explanation of the secret experiments being carried out in No. 6. Granted, it does take an infodump or two to fit it all into the last volume, but they work and their inclusion actually makes a fair amount of sense within the context of the narrative. Where Kino’s No. 6 really excels though is with the evolution and development of Rat and Shion. They begin the series with straightforward personalities that become increasingly layered and complex as the manga progresses. Shion is benevolent but also frightening; Rat’s apparent strength hides his frailty. Their roles in their relationship with each other have reversed several times throughout the series and continue to shift and change all the way to its end. I came to care about Shion and Rat immensely and am very glad to finally have a much more thorough ending to their story.