My Brother’s Husband, Omnibus 1

My Brother's Husband, Omnibus 1Creator: Gengoroh Tagame
Translator: Anne Ishii
U.S. publisher: Pantheon Books
ISBN: 9781101871515
Released: May 2017
Original release: 2015-2016
Awards: Japan Media Arts Award

Gengoroh Tagame is an extremely influential manga creator known worldwide for his work in sadomasochistic, homoerotic fantasies. More recently, however, he has garnered a significant amount of attention for his series My Brother’s Husband, a four-volume manga aimed at general audience which directly addresses homophobia and other forms of discrimination in Japanese culture–one of the first works of its kind created for a prominent, mainstream magazine. My Brother’s Husband began serialization in Monthly Action in 2014 and would go on to win a Japan Media Arts Excellence Award in 2015. The series is one of the very few manga which I have made the point of collecting in the original Japanese, but I was absolutely thrilled when it was licensed for an English-language release. Translated by Anne Ishii, who has been instrumental in bringing Tagame’s work as a whole to English-reading audiences, the first omnibus in Pantheon Books’ hardcover edition of My Brother’s Husband was published in 2017 and is equivalent to the first two Japanese volumes released in 2015 and 2016.

Yaichi is a single father in Japan raising his young daughter Kana. Following the unexpected death of his estranged twin brother Ryoji, his brother’s Canadian husband Mike Flanagan arrives to meet the family and pay his respects. Yaichi’s life is suddenly upended–out of touch with Ryoji for years, he had never entirely come to terms with the fact that his younger brother was gay, but with Mike around it becomes something impossible for him to ignore. As for Kana, she is absolutely delighted to discover an uncle who she never knew existed and manages to convince her father to allow Mike to stay in their home while he’s in the area. As the days pass, the three of them become closer despite the occasional awkward clash of cultures; Mike’s kindhearted, gentle nature combined with Kana’s infectious exuberance and curiosity force Yaichi to reflect on his own learned attitudes and preconceived notions regarding homosexuality as well as confront the gulf that formed between him and Ryoji because of them. Through Mike, Yaichi is finally able reconnect with and learn more about his brother and who he was.

My Brother's Husband, Omnibus 1, page 110Tagame’s message of kindness, love, and acceptance in My Brother’s Husband is not at all subtle. At times it may come across as obvious or even like preaching to the choir for some readers, but the manga is really intended more for those who, like Yaichi, have casually conformed with and promulgated a culture of discrimination and misinformed stereotypes within society without putting much thought into it than it is for those who have personally experienced the negative effects of that discrimination. Even so, My Brother’s Husband still has plenty to offer that will appeal to a wide audience. The series is in turns heartwarming and heartbreaking, an honest and earnest exploration of family and the complex and often complicated relationships that exist between people. It’s a beautiful and moving story supported by strong, expressive artwork. Unsurprisingly, considering his artistic background, Tagame particularly excels in the realistic portrayal of adult masculine forms, but Kana’s cute character design can be quite effective as well. The backgrounds in the manga are fairly simple, the focus of Tageme’s illustrations is definitely on the characters, their facial expressions and body language adeptly conveying their thoughts and feelings, helping to establish the emotional core of the manga.

I unequivocally love the three lead characters and the development of their relationships in My Brother’s Husband. One of ways this is frequently accomplished in the manga which I particularly appreciate is through the sharing of meals and food, a natural and important way that people form connections in real life which serves to further cement those that exist in My Brother’s Husband. In addition to providing the series’ primary point of perspective, Yaichi is also probably the most well-rounded character. He has his flaws, but he is also a devoted and caring father who is willing to challenge his own internalized prejudices, initially for the sake of his daughter but ultimately for himself and the others, like Mike, he has come to care about as well. Seeing Yaichi slowly grow as a person and become more accepting over the course of the first omnibus of My Brother’s Husband has been wonderful. Mike, while overall coming across as a less nuanced character, is still a very positive and sympathetic portrayal of a gay man, his incredible patience and understanding adding to what makes him so immensely endearing. And of course there’s Kana, too, who can so easily love others despite their differences, her youth and innocence allowing her an amount of freedom and flexibility that’s not as easily accessible to adults who have already become set in their ways. I am very much looking forward to the continuation and conclusion of the story of these three in the second omnibus of My Brother’s Husband.

Random Musings: Toronto Comic Arts Festival 2017

TCAF 2017 Poster - Sana Takeda

©Sana Takeda

I didn’t actually realize it until I started writing up my random musings for the 2017 Toronto Comic Arts Festival (TCAF), but this year was actually my five-year TCAF anniversary! For the first two years I coordinated the trip with a friend (a different one each year), but for the last three years my TCAF adventures have been combined with a Toronto family vacation. 2017’s TCAF trip leaned a little more heavily towards family activities than in years past, but I still found the opportunity to enjoy what the festival had to offer. And seriously, TCAF has a tremendous amount to offer. It’s the only comics-related event that I currently attend, and it’s absolutely worth challenging my social anxiety and general awkwardness.

Although there are TCAF-related events throughout May, the festival-proper usually takes place on Mother’s Day weekend which was May 13th and 14th this year. As mentioned, much of the emphasis of my trip this year was on family vacationing. We made a long weekend of it, leaving on Thursday and returning on Sunday. On Thursday, after treating ourselves to breakfast at a favorite local restaurant and taking the young one to a weekly language development play group (which I hadn’t actually had the opportunity to visit before since I’m usually working when the class is held), the four of us (three adults and a toddler) piled into the car on headed out.

If we were to drive straight through from where we live in Michigan to Toronto, it would take about four and a half hours but we arrived a little over six hours after we left. Things always seem to take a bit longer when kids are involved, not to mention the fact that we also happened to stop for a leisurely picnic lunch once we were in Canada and well on our way. I don’t remember exactly what time we finally pulled into Toronto, but it was late enough that I missed the book launch party for Jane Mai and An Nguyen’s newest collaboration So Pretty / Very Rotten: Comics and Essays on Lolita Fashion and Culture which I had hoped to attend. Instead, we all took our time settling into the room for our stay and then ordered tasty takeout from a place that was a surprising combination of pizzeria and Asian fusion.

On Friday, the whole family spent most of the day at the Ontario Science Centre, which was fantastic. We mainly focused on the interactive areas geared towards younger ages and so certainly didn’t see everything there was to see; I would like to go back sometime and explore even more of the centre because we all had a great time. After resting up in our room for a bit, we eventually made our way down to The Distillery Historic District for dinner, drinks, and other diversions. In the past, Friday night would have been the night that I would take off for the Sparkler Monthly mixer, but this year that party was held on Saturday evening instead. (Sadly, this also meant Sparkler’s party conflicted with the annual queer mixer.)

After spending most of Thursday and Friday with the family, I was mostly off on my own on Saturday enjoying the first day of TCAF. As in years past, I started my morning off wandering the exhibitor areas before they got super crowded. I mostly explored the Toronto Reference Library,  which had three floors of exhibitors this year, but eventually made my way to the exhibitors situated in the Masonic Temple as well. I wasn’t quite as social as I have been at previous festivals, but I did make a point to at least say hello to the creator’s that I recently supported through Kickstarter who were at the festival. I spent a fair amount of time going through all of the exhibitor’s online portfolios before arriving in Toronto, making notes to myself of the tables that I wanted to be sure to stop by, but in the end I really did try to see everything there was to see. One of the things I love about TCAF is the wide variety of comics at the event, but I especially appreciate the number of queer creators and the amount of queer content present.

Ontario Science Centre Rainforest

Exploring the rainforest at the Ontario Science Centre

In addition to all of the phenomenal exhibitors, TCAF also has a strong lineup of panels, workshops, and creator spotlights. As usual, it was a tremendous challenge deciding which events I wanted to go to, especially as so many of the conflict with one another. In the end I settled on six, all but one of which were held on Saturday. There were definitely others that I wanted to attend, too, but for one reason or another (such as waking up with a migraine on Sunday morning or a cranky toddler) I wasn’t ultimately able to fit them all into my schedule.

Since I’m a musician on top of being a huge fan of comics, one of the panels that immediately caught my interest was “Sounds and Vision: Music in Comics,” moderated by Phillipe Leblanc, which explored how artists portray and convey music and sound in a visual medium. Although I haven’t actually read any of their comics (yet), I did recognize the panelists by name–Dave Chisholm, Nick Craine, Anya Davidson, Sandrine Revel, and Eric Kostiuk Williams. All of the creators on the panel had at least some musical background, formal or otherwise (Chisholm even has a doctorate in jazz trumpet), and consider music to be one of their passions. In some ways the two artforms, music and comics, are incompatible since each one requires so much time to master as an artist, but they can still be brought together. If nothing else, creators’ experiences as musicians can inform and influence the stories they want to tell. Effectively incorporating music into a comic requires more than just putting music notes on a page. As Chisholm pointed out, musical notation isn’t really music either–it’s simply ink on paper, a visual shorthand (much like comics themselves). In order to convey the intended feeling of the music, comic creators must instead rely on page and panel design to capture a sense of tempo, movement, and flow. Creative use of typography can also be effective, especially when lyrics are involved, and imaginative onomatopoeiae can serve as a device to form a visual soundscape. Often a literal representation of music isn’t what is demanded by a narrative, it’s the emotional resonance and impact of that music that needs to be seen, whether it’s the focus of a comic or simply being used as a background element to help set a scene.

After spending a little more time browsing the exhibitor areas, the next panel that I attended was simply titled “Sports!” which included Michael Nybrandt, Ngozi Ukazu, Sonam Wangyal, and Jarrett Williams as panelists and RJ Casey as a moderator. While in Japan sports comics have been immensely successful, the subgenre hasn’t thrived in the same way in the North American comics industry. Although there have been some independent sports comics with impressive followings, such as Ukazu’s Check, Please!, in general sports comics continue to be a hard sell for many major publishers. In the 1990s there were some unsuccessful mainstream attempts that basically tried to turn sports comics into superhero narratives rather than focusing on the underlying human story, something that didn’t work well at the time. There’s also the question of audience since there is a lingering and inaccurate stereotype that “nerds don’t like sports.” (Ukazu commented that it might actually be more difficult to sell sports comics to sports fans than to comics fans.) Sports stories provide ready-made and easily understood narratives which allow the incorporation and exploration of other subjects such as politics, religion, and performance of gender, making those issues more acceptable or palatable for readers. Emotional highs and lows are inherent to the stories, often directly tied to the athletes’ successes and failures in competition. Sports comics can risk becoming repetitive since the most basic story arc is the often same–someone will win and someone will lose–but while the ending may be already be determined, how the comic arrives at that ending is not. Changing the implications of winning and losing can introduce new dynamics and not all the conflict and drama has to happen within the context of the sport itself.

TCAF 2017 Haul

TCAF Haul 2017!
(minus a t-shirt and poster)

While the first two panels I went to were both held at the Stealth Lounge at The Pilot, my next three panels were located at another of TCAF’s primary event locations, the Toronto Marriott Bloor Yorkville Hotel which allows for larger gatherings. It’s a good thing, too. Glen Downey, who was moderating “Creating While Depressed,” noted that it was one of the most well-attended TCAF panels with which he has been involved. The subject matter being discussed appeared to strike a very personal chord with many of the people in the audience, myself included. The panelists–Meredith Gran, Tara Ogaick, Meredith Park, and Shivana Sookdeo–were all very candid and open, sharing their own experiences as creators who have to carefully balance their mental health with their creative work. They talked about how damaging the idealized stereotype of the “tortured artist” is and how the romanticized portrayal of depression found in popular culture is often vastly different from actual experience. In reality, people with depression are creating despite depression rather than because of it. For them, comics can be an outlet for expression and a way to alleviate some of the symptoms of depression, but at their lowest points it may be impossible for them to produce any work at all. It is at those times when communication and honesty are particularly crucial in order to clearly delineate limitations and establish realistic expectations not only for themselves but for the people with whom they might be working. The panelists also emphasized the importance of finding a supportive, close-knit community. Although they were specifically speaking as artistic creators with depression, I found that their experiences strongly resonated with my own and could be more broadly relatable.

My fourth panel of the day was “21st Century Webcomics,” featuring Michael DeForge, Blue Delliquanti, Priya Huq, Matt Lubchansky, and moderated by Tom Spurgeon. I don’t actually follow as many comics online as I used to–I find reading digital content difficult and/or frustrating for a wide variety of reasons–but I am still a huge supporter of webcomics, frequently buying print editions if they exist. As with any medium, webcomics have evolved over time especially as advances in the creation of digital artwork have also been made. Likewise, the relationship between webcomics and print comics have changed and there is less of a sense that they are at war these days. Instead, webcomics are often used to support their print equivalents. Because they are online, webcomics are inherently more discoverable and more widely accessible which helps to build an audience and further promote a creator’s work. Webcomics can also give a creator the opportunity to experiment with new methods and formats of expression that simply aren’t realistically feasible or even possible in print, such as the use of infinite canvass, animation techniques, or interactive elements. Creators have a tremendous amount of freedom when it comes to webcomics, allowing personal or experimental works to be produced and distributed that more traditional or mainstream comic publishers might initially be reluctant to take a risk on. However, while it was hoped that the Internet would allow creators to more directly deliver their content to readers and flatten out publishing hierarchies (which to some extent has occurred), the reality is that there has been a rise in intermediaries. More and more, creators find they frequently have to rely on multiple external systems and platforms like Kickstarter, Patreon, and social media to sustain their work.

“LGBTQ Comics Abroad,” moderated by Justin Hall, was the one panel that I wanted to be sure to make it to above all others not just because the subject matter had to do with queer comics but because Gengoroh Tagame was participating. (Even if someone isn’t a fan of Tagame’s works, his immense historical knowledge and experience as a gay comics creator makes his panels well-worth seeking out.) The other panelists included A.C. Esguerra, Molly Ostertag, Tommi Parrish, and Martina Schradi. Anne Ishii was also there, technically to assist with interpretation for Tagame, but she also had her own thoughts and experiences to bring to the discussion. The panelists talked about their work and the state of queer comics within their own countries (Japan, United States, Australia, and Germany) but also the challenges presented when considering international audiences. Queer identities are formed differently from culture to culture, and some of the nuances of those differences can be difficult to convey or translate, however there are still some shared and common experiences that are not limited by borders; social mores and contexts will often vary, but universal themes can still be found. The online environment has presented an opportunity for queer comics to be successful in ways that are currently difficult through traditional publishing, although the mainstream comics industry has been slowly making progress. The Internet allows for an unprecedented ease of global access to and distribution of queer content; it has been possible for numerous communities and support networks to be established which aren’t limited by geographic boundaries. But along with the good, there is also the bad–the piracy, scanlations, and extreme levels of fan entitlement present online can be hugely damaging.

TCAF 2017 Poster - Eleanor Davis

©Eleanor Davis

As mentioned, Saturday night I went to the Sparkler TCAF Mixer. I brought the little one along with me to allow the family’s other two adults to have a child-free dinner date. A good time was had by all and I had the chance to catch up with not only the Chromatic Press/Sparkler Monthly folks but some of Seven Seas’ people as well. There’s a bit of an overlap between the two groups even though the demographics of each company’s audience are currently the inverse of each other. (Interesting tidbit: According to a recent Sparkler Monthly survey, while women form the core readership, at present Chromatic Press has more nonbinary readers than male readers.) Expect some really great things and exciting announcements to come from both publishers in the near future.

Sunday ended up being a much shorter day than was originally planned (I was really hoping to attend the So Pretty / Very Rotten discussion on Lolita culture at the Japan Foundation, for one). However, I and one of my partners were able to at least make it to The Pilot for the panel “Looks Good Enough to Eat: Comics and Food” before we all headed back to Michigan. We sadly missed out 2016’s food comics panel, so we were particularly happy to be there this year. Perhaps unsurprisingly considering my well-known love of food comics, I was already familiar with the work of most of the panelists: Sarah Becan, Emily Forster, Robin Ha, Jade Feng Lee, and Kat Verhoeven. Along with moderator Lauren Jorden, the group discussed what appealed to them about creating and reading comics that prominently feature or incorporate food. The subgenre of food comics is actually quite diverse, including comics explicitly about food (recipe comics, autobiographical works, or journalistic reviews) as well as comics that use food as a theme or aesthetic. Everyone has to eat, which can make food comics particularly accessible; it’s a shared experience that can serve as a gateway into comics. Food is a multisensory experience, so it can be challenging when working in a medium that primarily relies on one. However, an important part of eating is the visual experience, so to that extent comics are a natural fit. Comics can evoke a feeling or mood that can’t be captured in the same way with photography or other visual artforms. Often there is a strong emotional component to food comics. Even when the subject matter is specifically about food, food itself isn’t just food–it’s history, community, culture, relationships, and personal expression. And comics can be all of those things, too.

And with that,  and after one last tour through the exhibitor areas, the whole family prepared to depart for home. Though I didn’t end up doing everything that I had originally planned or hoped to do,  but I still had a fantastic trip. Toronto is a terrific city and TCAF is a phenomenal festival. However inadequately, I’ve tried to convey some of that greatness here by highlighting a little of what I learned and experienced. However, there’s so much more that I could have (and perhaps should have) written about because there’s so much more to the festival. I definitely plan on attending TCAF for the foreseeable future.

Random Musings: Toronto Comic Arts Festival 2015

TCAF 2015 Poster

©Gurihiru

2015 marks the third time that I’ve been able to attend the Toronto Comic Arts Festival (TCAF). I generally don’t go to very many conferences, festivals, or conventions unless it’s for work, but I had such a phenomenal experience at TCAF 2013 that it’s become an annual event for me. TCAF is totally worth me pushing through all of my social anxieties and general awkwardness. This year was great, too, and for the most part I handled it pretty well. I don’t know if it’s just that I’m getting used to the trip and generally know what to expect from the event or what, but TCAF’s expansion into more areas of the Toronto Reference Library made the crowds feel less, well, crowded which probably also helped.

I’ve actually been trying to make TCAF a family trip since 2013 and this year it finally happened. Everyone, including the nine-month old, was able to make it to Toronto. We set out from Michigan on Friday and arrived in Toronto in time for me to go to Sparkler Monthly‘s Manga Mixer. I went last year, too, and enjoyed myself, so I was looking forward to it even though I’m not much of a party person. I enjoyed the mixer this year as well and had the opportunity to talk about manga, comics, and all sorts of things with all sorts of people. I was particularly happy to chat with Lissa Pattillo and the rest of the folk at Chromatic Press again. And I met several of my fellow manga and comics enthusiasts in person for the first time, like Linda/animemiz, Ysabet MacFarlane, and Alex Hoffman, which was great. Later on in the evening Jason Thompson showed up and we talked for a bit, which was pretty exciting for me since he played a large role in introducing me to manga. He seemed to know who I was, too, even though we’d never met before.

Actually, people recognizing me or Experiments in Manga after I introduced myself was something that happened several times over the course of TCAF, which was an odd but kind of thrilling experience. (I guess “Ash Brown” is a name that tends to stick with people?) Another odd thing to happen was that a lot of people assumed I was one of the exhibitors or an artist myself. Granted, considering how many creators visit TCAF as exhibitors or attendees, it’s a pretty safe guess for someone to make and still end up being correct much of the time. Anyway. Some of my personal social highlights over the course of TCAF in addition the Manga Mixer: I had a nice conversation with Ryan Sands, said hello to the MASSIVE crew, ran into fellow Manga Bookshelf blogger Sean Gaffney, had the chance to meet Amanda Cosmos, briefly chatted with Jocelyne Allen, and talked with Ken Niimura and Aya Kanno at their respective signings. And there were plenty of other smaller interactions throughout the festival, too.

Manga Mixer presented by Sparkler

TCAF 2015 Manga Mixer presented by
Sparkler Monthly

I like to start off TCAF proper bright and early on Saturday morning by visiting the exhibitor areas. This has a few advantages: the crowds are relatively small and manageable, exhibitors haven’t sold out of anything yet (although, not everything is available for sale right away), and most of the festival programming for the day hasn’t started. I generally have a few tables that I know I want to stop by and a few things that I know I want to check out, but I also wander around to see everything that’s there. For me, part of TCAF is learning about and discovering new things; I always make a point to come home with some comics and artwork by artists whose work I’m completely unfamiliar with. If I could I’d bring home everything that caught my interest. I have to give myself a strict budget for TCAF to keep things from getting out of hand. I focus my purchases on independent creators and small publishers while at TCAF, but I also end up making a very lengthy list of comics and other books to obtain at a later date. Even after it’s over, TCAF continues to influence what I buy. This year I got my hands on almost everything that I really wanted, but there were a few things I’m still kicking myself for missing out on, like Gengoroh Tagame’s new artbook. Hopefully I’ll have the chance to pick some of those things up in the near future, though.

On Saturday, I attended a total of six (six!) panels. I basically found a seat in the Marriott’s High Park Ballroom and didn’t move for the rest of the day. (Should you ever attempt this yourself, I highly recommend bringing your own water and snacks with you.) One of the most challenging parts of TCAF is deciding which programs to go to because it is literally impossible to do everything. There are so many fantastic panels and creators that there are always going to be conflicts. But, rest assured, whatever you choose, it will be great. I have yet to leave a TCAF event disappointed or dissatisfied.

My first panel of the day was “Subscription Comics.” Moderated by Brigid Alverson, the discussion featured Box Brown of Retrofit Comics, Ryan Sands of Youth in Decline, Jordan Shiveley of Uncivilized Books, and Lianne Sentar of Chromatic Press. Although the models are different from one publisher to another, each of them features a subscription service of some sort. (I’m currently a Chromatic Press and Youth in Decline subscriber; next year I’ll probably be a Retrofit subscriber, too, considering the number of comics I buy from the publisher anyway.) The panel’s conversation focused on the benefits provided and challenges presented by subscriptions not just for publishers, but for creators and readers as well. Subscriptions get money to the publisher quickly and can help pay for upfront costs. It can be incredibly useful for publishers to know that there will be definite revenue when planning the year’s finances, too. For creators, publishers’ subscriptions can provide an appealing outlet for experimentation, a way to do something for fun on the side, and not have to worry about marketing and other aspects of promotion. The panelists tended to agree that an ideal subscription service would feature both big and small names. The more well-known artists provide the initial draw for readers and help support the publication of the rest of the comics. Subscriptions can provide the curatorial guidance needed in the astoundingly large world of comics which can frequently be overwhelming, especially for newer readers.

TCAF 2015 Poster - Pascal Blanchet

©Pascal Blanchet

Brigid Alverson was also involved with the next event, serving as the interviewer for Aya Kanno’s Spotlight with Jocelyne Allen interpreting. The discussion largely focused on Kanno’s two most recent series to have been released in English, Otomen and Requiem of the Rose King. She got the idea for Otomen when she realized that a lot of the men around her were otomen, but that in Japan a boy liking girlish things is still looked down upon, more so than a girl liking boyish things. Her editor at the time was a little uneasy about the series because Kanno had never done a comedy manga before; it took about a year to convince him. Being true to oneself is a theme that is particularly important in Otomen, and one that deeply resonates with Kanno. As for Requiem of the Rose King, there is an exaggerated element in Shakespeare’s plays that she doesn’t often see in modern works that she finds very appealing. Kanno described her version of Richard as a mix of all of the good parts of Shakespeare’s Richard, characteristics of the historical Richard III, and some of her own fantasy. Kanno did read a fair number of history books when conducting research for the series, but not much on the time period is available in Japanese, so the visuals of the manga tend to be heavily influenced by Shakespearian stage productions and much of the story comes from within Kanno herself as she creates her own personal interpretations of history. Kanno has always been interested in sex, gender, and sexuality, so it isn’t too surprising that those subjects play an important role in her work; both Otomen and Requiem of the Rose King deal with those subjects in different ways.

Next up was “Gay Comics Art Japan with Gengoroh Tagame,” featuring Gengoroh Tagame, the first commercially successful creator of gay manga, Anne Ishii and Graham Kolbeins of MASSIVE, and Leyla Aker, one of the editors at Viz Media and SuBLime Manga. Tagame was one of the featured guests at TCAF in 2013 and he is an extremely knowledgeable and charming individual, so I was very happy to see him return again this year. The panelists discussed queer comics, gay manga, and BL, the fluidity of the boundaries between the genres, and the usefulness and limitations of labels. It’s becoming more and more difficult to definitively draw a line between gay manga and BL. Many complicated factors influence how a person approaches a particular work: the style of the art, the gender and sexuality of the creator (which in and of itself is very complicated), the emphasis placed on romance or sex, and the intended audience, among many other things. Generally, fifteen to twenty percent of SuBLime’s readership, and up to fifty percent for some titles (usually the romance-oriented manga), are men and Tagame has a large number of fans who are women, so even the boundaries between expected audiences are blurring. Complicating matters even further is the fact that the different categories and genres applied to manga in Japan do not necessarily have exact equivalents to those used in other countries and vice versa. Categorization can be useful for marketing purposes, publishers, and readers, but it can also create situations in which the content or creators are being marginalized or pigeonholed simply because of the label that is being used. Aker mentioned that there were two major BL mangaka whose work is often requested by fans who ultimately did not want to be published by SuBLime specifically for those reasons.

Ken Niimura Sketch

Ken Niimura likes cats

Despite being a huge fan of Avatar: The Last Airbender, I’ve never actually read any of the comics. And so before attending Gurihiru’s Spotlight, I wasn’t particularly familiar with the work of the two Japanese artists who make up the illustration team: Chifuyu Sasaki, who focuses on design, pencils, and inks, and Naoko Kawano, who focuses on design and colors. Along with their agent Akihide Yanagi, who helped to interpret, the two women were interviewed by Deb Aoki. Sasaki and Kawano became friends in college and soon after began collaborating on artwork together. Although they each have their specialty, their creative process has always been a team effort. Previously, they both worked as office ladies and did some local illustration work on the side; it wasn’t until they responded to Marvel’s search for Japanese creators that their career as artists really took off. They still haven’t been published much in Japan—their style is considered “too Western” by some—however, they have found success in other parts of the world. One of the reasons they submitted their work to Marvel was to try to reach an audience that would better appreciate their style. Marvel has never asked them to change how they draw and they have been given a lot of freedom with the series that they have been involved with. In addition to Marvel and Dark Horse Comics, Gurihiru has also worked with Scholastic and Pearson Education as illustrators and colorists. Their two biggest influences when it comes to how they approach their art? Disney animation and Todd McFarlane’s Spawn. One day Gurihiru would like to try creating their own stories, but in the meantime they’re so busy as artists that they haven’t had a good opportunity to develop those skills.

Noelle Stevenson’s Spotlight conflicted with Ed Luce’s Spotlight, which I was also very interested in. But, because Gurihiru’s session went over its time, I was already in the room, and I wanted to be there for the next panel as well, I decided to continue my siege of the High Park Ballroom. Stevenson was on a panel that I attended last year at TCAF and I was looking forward to reading her debut graphic novel Nimona which debuted at TCAF this year, so I was glad to have the chance to hear her interviewed by Robin Brenner (another manga-savvy librarian that I look up to a great deal). Stevenson is an engaging, intelligent, and well-spoken young creator. Topics of the casual conversation included Nimona, working as part of a team as a writer for Lumberjanes, and the importance of diversity in comics. Before being picked up by HarperCollins, Nimona started as a webcomic that was a part of Stevenson’s senior thesis. The first thing she knew about the story was its ending, but she actually began posting the comic online before the script had been finalized. As a result, the comic changed some as it progressed, and additional revisions needed to be made for the print edition. Stevenson first became widely known for her fanart, which is how her agent, who approached her directly, discovered her. Her work on Nimona and as a writer for Lumbarjanes has allowed her to create something of her own which subsequently led to other projects. As Stevenson describes it, “the writing was an accident,” but she is now being hired for her own unique voice rather than as someone to mimic an existing tone or story. She finds it very satisfying to be in the position to create something that isn’t just more of the same, feeling that diversity in comics makes for better stories in addition to challenging readers to expand both their worldviews and their capacities for empathy.

Aya Kanno Chibis

Chibi Richard and Asuka by Aya Kanno

One of the most popular events at TCAF in 2014 was “What Do Women Want? Writing Comics For A Female Audience” and so this year Lianne Sentar facilitated a reprise of the panel. Joining her this time around was Sam Maggs, Sandra Bell-Lundy, Brenden Fletcher, Svetlana Chmakova, and Sydney Padua. The group provided a nice range of perspectives on the subject as the panelists are all involved in different parts of the comics industry: publishing, journalism, syndicated comics, mainstream comics, manga-influenced comics, and webcomics. The panelists argue, and I agree with them, that by expanding the range of stories being told about and for women in addition to increasing the diversity of their representation in comics, men’s stories and representation are inherently expanded and increased as well. Stories aimed at straight, white men are often the default in mainstream media, but if allowed, women-oriented stories can be just as universal. Last year the panel included a lot of angry ranting, but this year tended to be much more positive in tone, a good indication that the state of the comics industry is already beginning to change for the better. The group hypothesized that the Internet has a played a critical role in allowing this to happen. Social media and webcomics in particular have provided platforms for creators to freely express themselves, reach a widespread audience, and form communities and support networks even when working on a comic that is especially niche. The big publishers are paying attention to these developments and taking note of what readers want, but the inertia of a well-entrenched industry used to telling a particular kind of story can be difficult to overcome and there will continue to be missteps. The road may be bumpy, but it is improving, and there are now other viable options for creators and readers outside of mainstream publication, as well.

I thought about going to the Queer Mixer again this year but ultimately ended up hanging out in the city with the family, finding plenty of good food to eat and beer to drink, enjoying the pleasant weather outside, and visiting Toronto’s public parks. Because TCAF starts a couple of hours later on Sunday than it does on Saturday, we were able to sleep in a bit on Sunday morning before heading out for brunch. Afterwards I made my way back to the Marriott and the Reference Library while the rest of the family explored the Royal Ontario Museum. Compared to Saturday, at first it seems like I hardly did anything at all on Sunday since I only attended three panels. But, I also made it to Ken Niimura and Aya Kanno’s signings, and spent some more time in the exhibitor areas talking to and collecting signatures from some of the other creators. The other three-fourths of family wandered around the library for a bit as well, tracking down some of their favorite artists and adding to the pile of comics that were coming back to the United States with us.

My first panel of the day was “Get Published In Japan!,” moderated by Deb Aoki and featuring Yuri Yamamoto (an editor at Akita Shoten for Princess magazine who is working with Aya Kanno on Requiem of the Rose King among other series), Ken Niimura, Abby Denson and independent manga artist Yuuko Koyama (who self-published some work together in Japan), and Gurihiru’s agent Akihide Yanagi. While the panel addressed some of the more technical issues and challenges that confront non-Japanese creators when trying to break into the manga industry in Japan—such as language barriers and the lack of support for submitting materials digitally—much of the discussion actually focused on the importance of the relationship between an editor and creator. In Japan, editors tend to play a much more prominent role in the creation of comics than they do in most other countries; editors are often considered a part of the creative team, and some even act as the writers for the artists they work with. It’s a relationship dynamic which may take some foreign creators, many of whom are used to working more independently, time to adjust to. As Niimura puts it, “Finding the right editor is like finding the right girlfriend or boyfriend,” a good match is required to really make the relationship work. The panelists agreed that one of the most important traits for creators to have is the ability to positively take critique and criticism in stride, always working to improve based on those comments with the knowledge that even if they are severe they are intended to help them better themselves and their work. Of course, the advice that creators receive, even for the same comic, will differ depending on the editor they are working with. Some editor’s in Japan intentionally seek out foreign talent, while others still show some discrimination towards non-Japanese creators. But, as long as a submission to a manga magazine is in Japanese, it will always be reviewed for consideration.

TCAF 2015 Haul

Most, but not quite all, of my TCAF haul

It was then back to the Reference Library for the “Manga Translation” panel facilitated by Robin Brenner and featuring translators Kumar Sivasubramanian (who has done manga translation for Dark Horse and Vertical) and Jocelyne Allen (who has worked with Drawn & Quarterly, Digital Manga, Viz Media, and others) as well as Deb Aoki (who has served as one of the judges for the Manga Translation Battle sponsored by Japan’s Agency for Cultural Affairs). Over the course of the discussion, the panelists identified some of the things that make manga translation particularly challenging, such as sound effects, the size and shape of word balloons and the limited space for text, choosing appropriate gendered pronouns, puns and wordplay, culturally specific concepts and jokes, and so on. Both accuracy and readability are important for any translation; the audience must always be kept in mind since translation choices and tone will change depending on what the publishers and readers want or need. Some series, like Blade of the Immortal, demand a “rawer” translation with much of the Japanese terminology left intact because that is what the audience has come to expect. Different publishers have different policies and requirements for their translations, too. For example, some allow translation notes while others do not. Many manga fans may not realize that the translators ultimately aren’t the only ones responsible for a manga’s translation—adapters and editors, as well as the original publishers and creators, are also involved in the decisions that are made. More than one translator may work on the same series, too, so additional effort is needed in order to maintain a consistent translation over multiple volumes. It’s also worth noting that it’s very rare that a translator has the opportunity to work directly with creators or to ask them questions about their manga. Generally translators don’t know anything more than any other reader and they can be taken by surprise by the manga’s developments, which can present problems for translation.

Although the Comics vs Games showcase has been a part of TCAF for four years now, 2015 was the first time that I had the chance to attend any of its programming, largely because much of it was actually located in the Reference Library this year. At one point in time, my love of games rivaled my love of comics, so I was particularly looking forward to it. “Comics vs Games: Microtalks!” featured eleven speakers: David Calvo, Alfe Clemencio, Amanda Cosmos, David Hellman, Andrew Hlynka, Kim Hoang, Rachel Kahn, Xin Ran Liu, Matthew Ritter, Jason Shiga, and Miguel Sternber. The group included game developers, artists, and aficionados, as well as comics creators, each of whom gave a very short presentation discussing various aspects of comics and games, generally touching upon the similarities and differences between the mediums and what creators working in one could learn from the other. Both comics and games can be a form of storytelling that requires a reader or player to actively engage in the creation of a narrative from disparate images and moments. Of the two, generally games are considered to be more interactive, which greatly impacts the experience of the story, even if it’s a linear one. But the incredibly innovative work being done by Jason Shiga proves that comics can be interactive as well. Art obviously serves a function in comics where it is a critical part of the narrative, but it’s also important in games where the artwork is responsible for creating and establishing a setting and environment. Traditional illustration techniques can be used to inform game art and design, and even three-dimensional games can successfully incorporate two-dimensional artwork and animation.

Believe it or not, the above is just a small fraction of what I could have written about TCAF. Each of the individual panels and spotlights could have easily had an entire essay devoted solely to them; I merely expressed some of my own thoughts and experiences, and touched upon a few and not by any means all of the major themes and topics addressed at the various programs at the festival. TCAF is an absolutely fantastic comics event. If you ever have the opportunity to attend, I highly recommend it. I know that I certainly plan on returning every year that I possibly can.

Massive: Gay Erotic Manga and the Men Who Make It

Massive: Gay Erotic Manga and the Men Who Make ItEditor: Anne Ishii, Chip Kidd, and Graham Kolbeins
Publisher: Fantagraphics Books
ISBN: 9781606997857
Released: December 2014

The first major publication of gay manga to be printed in English was The Passion of Gengoroh Tagame: The Master of Gay Erotic Manga. Soon after its release a new project—a gay manga anthology called Massive—was announced by the same team that worked on Tagame’s debut English collection. Originally intended to be released by PictureBox, the anthology was temporarily orphaned when the publisher ceased releasing comics before the volume was completed. I was thrilled when Fantagraphics took on the project. Edited by Anne Ishii, Chip Kidd, and Graham Kolbeins, Massive: Gay Erotic Manga and the Men Who Make It became one of my most anticipated releases of 2014. Gay manga is an extremely underrepresented genre of manga in English. Massive, like The Passion of Gengoroh Tagame before it, is a groundbreaking work. Through manga, interviews, photography, and essays, the anthology introduces nine of the genre’s most influential, respected, and promising creators to an English-reading audience.

The volume’s table of contents is formed by a gallery of photographs paired with full-page color pin-ups illustrated by each of the contributors to Massive: Gengoroh Tagame, Inu Yoshi, Kumada Poohsuke, Takeshi Matsu, Jiraiya, Gai Mizuki, Fumi Miyabi, Seizoh Ebisubashi, and Kazuhide Ichikawa. This is followed by introductory essays written by each of the three editors. Kidd’s “It Feels Too Good” conveys the excitement over the fact that a volume like Massive even exists, while Ishii reveals some of the steps it took to publish the material in “Seeking English Translator.” Kolbeins essay “Glocalizing Gei Manga” is particularly enlightening, providing a greater context for Massive and a brief overview of the history of gay manga and how the volume fits into it. Also included is a timeline of male-male sexuality in Japanese culture, a list of recommended readings, and numerous photographs and illustrations. However, the real meat of the collection is the individual profiles of each of the creators introducing their work and personal histories and exploring their careers and the impacts they have made on the genre of gay erotic manga. The other major highlight of Massive is the inclusion of examples of their manga.

For most of the contributors, Massive marks their debut in English. Excluding Tagame, who has thus far had four collections published, Matsu is the only creator to have had a major release in English. And except for Jiraiya’s “Caveman Guu,” which was previously printed separately, all of the manga collected in Massive is being translated into English for the first time. Some are excerpts of longer works, like Tagame’s Do You Remember South Island P.O.W. Camp? and Poohsuke’s Dreams of the New Century Theatre, while others are shorter, standalone stories. There is humor and playfulness to be found in Yoshi’s “Kandagawa-Kun” and Matsu’s “Kannai’s Dilemma,” more dubious encounters in Mizuki’s “Fantasy and Jump Rope,” Ebisubashi’s “Mr. Tokugawa,” and Ichikawa’s “Yakuza Godfathers”, and even mythological inspiration in Miyabe’s “Tengudake.” The manga collected in Massive is most definitely erotic in nature. Some of the selections are simply suggestive, but many feature explicit, uncensored, and uninhibited sex between hypermasculine, muscular, and otherwise large-bodied men. It is called Massive for a reason, after all.

The profiles of the creators included in Massive are just as engaging as the manga that has been collected. The volume provides an incredibly valuable look into the creation of gay erotic manga and art. Interestingly enough, several of the contributors mention that they would like to create gay manga without as much erotic content, but to successfully do so would be difficult due to the demands of their audience and what is expected from the genre of gay manga as a whole. The artists address many of the same subjects in their interviews but they each bring their own perspective to the discussion. It’s fascinating to learn about how the manga industry has changed and continues to change, the impact and challenges presented by foreign scanlations of manga, the benefits of working within the manga industry or independently outside of it, the use and misappropriation of the term bara both in Japan and in the West, and the relationship between gay manga and boys’ love manga, among many other topics. Massive truly is a spectacular volume and highly recommended for anyone interested in gay manga, its history, and its creators; it’s a fantastic introduction to the genre.

Random Musings: Two from Tagame

Endless GameGengoroh Tagame is an extraordinarily important creator of gay erotic art and manga. He is extremely influential in Japan, but his talent is also recognized worldwide. Tagame’s work has been published in French, Spanish, and Italian, but it wasn’t until 2012 that any of his manga received an English-language release when “Standing Ovations” was collected in the third issue of the erotic comics zine Thickness.

There was a persistent rumor that Tagame didn’t want his work to be published in English, which may have been one of the reasons it took so long for a major release of Tagame’s manga to emerge. Happily, that rumor was unfounded and not at all true; 2013 saw the publication of The Passion of Gengoroh Tagame: The Master of Gay Erotic Manga, which collected stories from over a decade of Tagame’s output.

In part, The Passion of Gengoroh Tagame and the efforts of its editor Graham Kolbeins and its producer and translator Anne Ishii led to the establishment of Massive, a line of apparel and goods inspired by gay manga (and especially by the work of Tagame and Jiraiya). Massive also imports, produces, and translates gay manga and collaborates directly with creators of gay Japanese art and comics. I’m very much looking forward to Massive and Fantagraphics’ release of Massive: Gay Erotic Manga and the Men Who Make It in late 2014 which will include interviews, photography, essays, illustrations, and manga. Tagame will be one of the nine artists featured in the volume.

The publication of The Passion of Gengoroh Tagame may have also helped to open the doors for the German publisher Bruno Gmünder to release two more collections of Tagame’s work in English: Endless Game and Gunji. Bruno Gmünder specializes in high quality releases of gay fiction, nonfiction, comics, art, and photography, so Tagame’s manga fits the publishing house perfectly. In addition to the manga themselves, the volumes also include color illustrations by Tagame. Endless Game and Gunji are the first volumes in Bruno Gmünder’s Gay Manga line of comics. 2014 will also see the release and English debuts of works by Takeshi Matsu and Mentaiko Itto, as well as one of Tagame’s most recent manga, Fisherman’s Lodge. Tagame was also included in Bruno Gmünder’s 2014 artbook Raunch.

Interestingly enough, Bruno Gmünder’s release of Endless Game was actually the volume’s world debut. The English-language edition of Endless Game was published in 2013, while the Japanese edition of the manga wasn’t collected until 2014. Endless Game originally began serialization in 2009 and was completed in 2012. I was particularly interested in the volume because prior to its publication I had only had the opportunity to read selections of Tagame’s short manga; all one-hundred-seventy-six pages of Endless Game are devoted to a single story about a young jock named Akira and his descent into prostitution.

GunjiTagame is particularly well-known for the hardcore BDSM themes found in his manga and artwork and he doesn’t shy away from rape scenarios in his work. The sex in Endless Game however, while still being hardcore and exceptionally explicit, is entirely consensual. Granted, Akira might not be aware of the extent to which he is being manipulated. But everything that he does, all of the filthy and degrading acts in which he participates, he does so willingly. Akira has an insatiable sexual appetite and even when he is being taken advantage of, he revels in it. There is still power play and intense sexual scenarios in Endless Game, but the extreme brutality seen in some of the shorter manga collected in The Passion of Gengoroh Tagame is missing, making this volume more approachable as a whole to a wider audience.

Gunji collects two of Tagame’s earlier works: the Gunji tetralogy (“Gunji,” “Scars,” “Flash Rain,” and “Pyre”), which was serialized between 2002 and 2003, as well as a slightly revised version of “The Ballad of Ôeyama” from 2004. Both of those manga had previously been released in Japanese and in French before the English translation was published in 2014. The Gunji series was serialized in the Muscle Man manga magazine. The anthology became a crossover of sorts between boys’ love and gay manga and attracted both female and male readers and creators. Because of this, Tagame deliberately incorporated more boys’ love-esque elements into the story. The men, while still very masculine, have considerably less body hair compared to some of his other works. “Gunji” was initially written as a one-shot story, but proved to be popular enough that Tagame followed it up with a serialized prequel. Whereas sex drove the plot in Endless Game, in the Gunji manga the plot drives the sex. The titular Gunji is a skilled sushi chef who is tormented by the sadistic son of his late master, whom he loved.

“The Ballad of Ôeyama” is a historical period piece set in 10th-century Japan. The short manga was inspired by the military commander Minamoto no Yorimitsu (also known as Raikō) and the legend of the oni Shuten Douji. In the afterword, Tagame notes that “The Ballad of Ôeyama” was also greatly influenced by Osamu Tezuka’s 1969 manga General Onimaru which he enjoyed reading as a child. (Even Tagame is influenced by Tezuka!) Raikō and two of his followers are sent to quell a demon which has been terrorizing the people of Ôeyama but find themselves captured instead. The demon, it turns out, is a shipwrecked foreigner who after being shunned for so long desires human contact and forcibly takes Raikō. Tagame’s reinterpretation of the Shuten Douji myth is spun into a surprisingly romantic tragedy. As with the Gunji tetralogy, while the erotic content is certainly important to “The Ballad of Ôeyama,” the story itself seems to take slightly more precedence in the development of the manga. Granted, Tagame himself would be the first to admit that his work is pornography and he is very candid about that fact. But one of the things that I appreciate the most about Tagame’s manga is that in addition to being gorgeously and viscerally drawn they also have interesting narratives and compelling psychological elements.