The Guin Saga, Book Four: Prisoner of the Lagon

Author: Kaoru Kurimoto
Illustrator: Naoyuki Kato

Translator: Alexander O. Smith and Elye J. Alexander
U.S. publisher: Vertical
ISBN: 9781934287194
Released: May 2008
Original release: 1980
Awards: Seiun Award

Prisoner of the Lagon, with illustrations by Naoyuki Kato, is the fourth book in Kaoru Kurimoto’s heroic fantasy light novel series The Guin Saga. Immensely popular in Japan, The Guin Saga is over one hundred volumes long. In 2010, Kurimoto even won a Seiun Award for the work as a whole. The Guin Saga hasn’t met with as much success with English-language audiences. Only the first five volumes which make up the first story arc of the series, “The Marches Episode,” have been translated by Alexander O. Smith and Elye J. Alexander. Originally published in Japan in 1980, Prisoner of the Lagon was released by Vertical in 2008 as a paperback. Prisoner of the Lagon is the first volume of The Guin Saga not to receive a hardcover edition from Vertical. Although I wasn’t overly impressed by the first novel in The Guin Saga, I have since become quite fond of the series and so was looking forward to reading Prisoner of the Lagon.

The deadly battle for Nospherus and for control of its secrets is a long one. The Sem continue to harass and ambush the the Mongauli troops. Despite its superior numbers and resources, the invading army’s morale is steadily declining. General Amnelis must take decisive action against the Sem and turn the tide of war before her troops lose all confidence in her leadership and their mission. Her foe, the mysterious leopard-headed warrior Guin, knows that the Sem won’t be able to hold out much longer. Their familiarity with Nospherus has given them an important advantage against the Mongauls, but no mater how dirty the Sem’s tactics they will eventually lose. Guin believes they only have one chance for success. Leaving the Sem to fend for themselves, he heads deeper into the wilderness of Nospherus, hoping to find and enlist the aid of the Lagon, a race of giants who are only rumored to exist.

While Guin has always been a prominent player, the saga is named for him after all, many of the previous volumes in the series have heavily featured other characters. Prisoner of the Lagon turns much of the focus back to Guin. More and more is revealed about him as more and more is revealed about Nospherus. But even now, very little is actually known about Guin. Both allies and enemies, not to mention Guin himself, wonder who this god-like warrior really is, what lurks in his past, and where his destiny lies. None of these questions are definitively answered in Prisoner of the Lagon, but the hints that Kurimoto drops are becoming less subtle. The convenient restoration of Guin’s memory when needed for the story still bothers me, but it bothers Guin, too. At least this means Kurimoto is aware of the issue and Guin tries to come up with a satisfying explanation.

A few things stand out for me in The Guin Saga. Kurimoto writes fantastic fight scenes. In Prisoner of the Lagon, Guin in particular has a few excellent solo battles in which he is revealed not to be all powerful even if he is an incredible warrior. While the conflicts in The Guin Saga are engaging, I wouldn’t say that the violence is glorified. Strategic errors made during war have brutal and fatal consequences; Kurimoto doesn’t shy away from horrifying outcomes. Morality is a complex issue in The Guin Saga. The protagonists are capable of truly terrible things that are made no less horrible because they are in the right. On the other hand, Kurimoto doesn’t demonize the saga’s antagonists. In fact, the characters are often sympathetic. Count Marus, commander of Mongaul’s Blue Knights, is a good example of this in Prisoner of the Lagon. He has a family that he misses, close friends and comrades that he worries about, and he genuinely cares for the men who serve under him. The Guin Saga gets better and better with each book. I’m looking forward to reading the final volume of “The Marches Episode,” The Marches King.

No Longer Human, Volume 1

Creator: Usamaru Furuya
Original story: Osamu Dazai

U.S. publisher: Vertical
ISBN: 9781935654193
Released: October 2011
Original release: 2009

Usamaru Furuya’s No Longer Human, a manga adaptation of Osamu Dazai’s novel of the same name, was one of my most anticipated releases for 2011. The original novel was published in 1948 while the first volume of Furuya’s interpretation was released in Japan in 2009. Vertical began bringing the series to English-reading audiences in 2011. (I was hoping that the third and final volume of Furuya’s No Longer Human would be published in time for the Usamaru Furuya Manga Movable Feast, but alas, the release date was moved back.) Dazai’s novel is a tremendous work and Furuya is a tremendous artist, so I was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to read his version of the story. It’s not a strictly literal adaptation—Furuya has moved the story to modern day Japan and has even inserted himself into it.

While searching for inspiration for his next series, manga artist and author Usamaru Furuya stumbles across the online diary of a young man named Yozo Oba. Yozo is the youngest son of a wealthy family. While attending a private high school in Tokyo, he was known as the class clown. Extremely charismatic, he was well liked by his classmates and teachers. What they didn’t know was that it was all an act. Yozo views his life as a performance, his actions are deliberate and calculated. The intense and constant effort Yozo puts into convincing others to like and accept him leaves him miserable and unhappy. He has a difficult time connecting with and understanding other people and is afraid that someone will notice his inauthenticity. For now, Yozo just tries to act the part that is expected of him.

Furuya easily slips between and melds two different art style in No Longer Human. One is fairly clean and straightforward, primarily used for dealing with Yozo’s interactions with other people. The other style is darker, murkier, and slightly more abstract, reflecting more closely Yozo’s inner state of mind and emphasising his sense of separation and detachment. The contrast between the two can be rather disconcerting. Furuya’s artwork is extremely effective and he creates some phenomenally chilling moments. The changes that Furuya has made to No Longer Human, which are actually relatively few, also work quite well. Each chapter closes with a direct quote from the novel and important lines—such as the one from the beginning of Yozo’s diary, “I’ve lived a life full of shame.”—are incorporated into the manga in very powerful ways.

It is not necessary to have read Dazai’s original novel in order to appreciate Furuya’s No Longer Human. (Although, if you haven’t read the novel before, I do recommend the book.) Furuya’s vision is compelling, although I didn’t find Yozo to be as sympathetic in the manga. In the novel, Dazai is able to be much more explicit about Yozo’s internal conflicts while Furuya relies on his art to express the same things, in some ways leaving more room for readers’ individual interpretations. The artwork allows readers to catch glimpses of how Yozo sees things, often without accompanying explanation. The first volume of Furuya’s No Longer Human is rather short, but if you rush through it, it is easy to miss some of the subtle cues in the art that add a tremendous amount of depth to both Yozo and to the story. If you can, take time to linger in the darkness.

The Guin Saga, Book Three: The Battle of Nospherus

Author: Kaoru Kurimoto
Illustrator: Naoyuki Kato

Translator: Alexander O. Smith and Elye J. Alexander
U.S. publisher: Vertical
ISBN: 9781934287064
Released: March 2008
Original release: 1979
Awards: Seiun Award

The Battle of Nospherus, with illustrations by Naoyuki Kato, is the third volume in Kaoru Kurimoto’s epic light novel series The Guin Saga. In Japan, the novel was originally released in 1979. Vertical first published The Battle of Nospherus in English in 2003 in hardcover and then again in paperback in 2008, translated by Alexander O. Smith and Elye J. Alexander. The Battle of Nospherus is the third book in the first major story arc in The Guin Saga, often called the “Marches Episode,” which is the only part of the novel series currently available in English. The Guin Saga has been at least partially translated into six other languages. I don’t know how it has been received in other parts of the world, but the English version hasn’t been nearly as successful as the series is in Japan. At well over a hundred volumes, The Guin Saga even won the Seiun Award for long fiction in 2010.

With General Amnelis and the Mongauli army in pursuit, the leopard-headed warrior Guin and his companions retreat even further into Nospherus, seeking shelter among the Raku tribe of the Sem. Amnelis’ actions are unexpected. Normally, Nospherus and its dangers are avoided at all costs, but she has brought what amounts to an invasion force, much more power than is needed to simply capture the escaped heirs of Parros and those who aid them. Amnelis is determined to take Nospherus and any secrets it holds despite the tremendous risks involved. Meanwhile, the Sem are struggling to band together their tribes, normally at war with one another, in order to protect themselves and their land from a common foe. Vastly outnumbered, outclassed, and out-equipped, the Sem place their hope in the very capable hands of Guin and in Nospherus itself.

Although The Battle of Nospherus is the third book in the series, there isn’t much character development that hasn’t already been established. Guin is still mysterious, Istavan is still a likeable ass, Amnelis is young and ambitious, Rinda is fortunately slightly less annoying, and her twin brother Remus is…well, Remus is often easy to forget that he’s even there and is frequently eclipsed by his sister. However, throughout the books there has been heavy foreshadowing indicating that he will become very important later on; I’m just not sure that it will happen by the end of the “Marches Episode.” One notable exception, The Battle of Nospherus does give more insight into the character of the love-besotted Captain Astrias. In fact, a good portion of the novel is seen from his perspective. This is one of the things that I really like about The Guin Saga: the story is also seen from the Mongauli’s side. While they are most certainly the antagonists, they are not inherently bad people. Particularly the lower ranking soldiers who are only in Nospherus because they have been told to be, not because they want to be.

I actually found The Battle of Nospherus to be rather slow going for the first half or so of the book. The narrative, especially the dialogue, felt very stilted to me in the beginning. I have a feeling this may have been the case in the original Japanese as well and so don’t blame the translators for it. But by the end of the book, it has settled into a more natural cadence. I was also troubled by the opening sequence and found myself coming up with excuses to cover for what I saw as inconsistencies. And while clever, I wasn’t entirely convince by our heroes’ solution to their immediate problem. However, if there is one thing that Kurimoto has done well since the beginning of The Guin Saga it’s writing a good fight scene. The last half of The Battle of Nospherus is filled with just that—a string of exciting battles and skirmishes. Kurimoto is able to capture the chaos while preventing it from becoming confusing or overwhelming for the reader. The fight for Nospherus continues in the next volume, Prisoner of the Lagon.

Lychee Light Club

Creator: Usamaru Furuya
U.S. publisher: Vertical
ISBN: 9781935654063
Released: April 2011
Original release: 2006

While Lychee Light Club is not the first Usamaru Furuya manga to be made available in English it is the first of his works that I have had the opportunity to read. I became interested in the title when Vertical first licensed it but it was the stunning cover that completely sold me, even before I knew what I was really getting myself into. Lychee Light Club, originally published in Japan in 2006, is based on a 1985 Tokyo Grand Guignol play of the same name. Knowing this origination is enough to expect the story to be of a dramatic, horrifying, sensational, and probably bloody nature. Apparently, and interestingly enough, Furuya’s version of Lychee Light Club has been adapted back into a stage play. Furuya has also written a prequel called Our Light Club. I really hope that Vertical, which published Lychee Light Club in 2011, will be able to license the prequel as well.

In an abandoned factory in the run-down industrial town of Keikoh meets a group of nine junior high students from an all boys school who call themselves the Light Club. They gather in secret to build a living machine fueled by lychee fruit to carry out their plan to abduct beautiful girls. The intensely charismatic and terrifying Zera, who holds the most power and control over the group, is obsessed with obtaining the ideal of eternal youth and beauty. The Light Club intends to literally idolize the captured girls. But after Lychee’s completion and eventual success, things quickly fall apart as the Light Club is utterly consumed by paranoia and jealousy. Violence erupts as the boys are turned against one another, incited by Zera’s increasingly pronounced mania. Lychee, the machine meant to make the Light Club invincible, instead brings about their downfall.

Lychee Light Club is a dark tale and the art is appropriately dark as well with plenty use of black. At the same time, Furuya’s artwork is also disconcertingly beautiful and stylish. Even the very graphic depictions of blood and gore, of which there are plenty, are strangely seductive. It certainly isn’t something that everyone will be able to appreciate and Furuya is not at all subtle about it. Another interesting approach used in Lychee Light Club‘s artwork has to do with the panels shown from Lychee’s perspective. When the machine is first initialized, it can only see in strict black and white; only after it has been programmed with the concept “I am human” can it begin to perceive different shades of grey. It is a symbolic and significant change that has serious consequences.

Ultimately, I was enthralled by Lychee Light Club in all its disturbing glory. Granted, it’s not a manga that I would recommend to just anyone; but for an audience prepared for uninhibited violence with highly sexually charged connotations, I wouldn’t hesitate. The theatrical influence of Lychee Light Club is readily clear. For one, almost the entire story takes place in a single room. In addition to this, the staging of various scenes and the characters’ placements in them are reminiscent of a stage production. To some extent because of this, the Light Club seems to out of context with the rest of their world. Instead of rebelling against a specific society, it feels as though the boys are struggling with and fighting against vague concepts. The story is admittedly strange and incredibly perverse, but neither does it claim to be anything else. Lychee Light Club is horrifying, and it should be.

The Guin Saga, Book Two: Warrior in the Wilderness

Author: Kaoru Kurimoto
Illustrator: Naoyuki Kato

Translator: Alexander O. Smith and Elye J. Alexander
U.S. publisher: Vertical
ISBN: 9781934287057
Released: January 2008
Original release: 1979
Awards: Seiun Award

Warrior in the Wilderness is the second volume in Kaoru Kurimoto’s heroic fantasy light novel series The Guin Saga. Originally published in Japan in 1979, Warrior in the Wilderness was first released in English in 2003 in hardcover by Vertical. In 2008, a paperback edition was released. Alexander O. Smith and Elye J. Alexander return to the series to provide the English translation. Happily, Naoyuki Kato’s illustrations from the original are also included. At far over one hundred volumes, The Guin Saga is immensely popular in Japan, winning a Seiun Award in 2010. Parts of the series have been translated into multiple languages. Only the first five volumes, consisting of the first major story arc, are currently available in English. I didn’t enjoy the first volume, The Leopard Mask nearly as much as I was hoping to, at least not until towards the end of the book, but even still, I remained interested in the series and looked forward to reading Warrior in the Wilderness.

During the chaos of Stafolos Keep’s fall, the leopard-headed and amnesiac warrior Guin manages to escape along with the twin heirs of Parros, Rinda and Remus, and a young Sem girl named Suni. Joining them soon after, and somewhat reluctantly, is a skilled mercenary known as Istavan Spellsword. Traveling along the river Kes, the odd group of former prisoners flee the Keep hoping to avoid pursuit. Their luck doesn’t hold and they find themselves trapped between the army of Gohra and the dangerous and cursed land of Nospherus, inhabited by strange beasts and home to bizarre phenomena. Guin and the others decide the best option is to take their chances with the terrors of Nospherus. Unexpectedly, the Gohran army, lead by a brash young general, follows the five escapees across the river and into the land fit for demons.

As much as I adore Guin as a character, I was thrilled when Istavan the Crimson Mercenary was revealed to be one of the main protagonists. He is only briefly introduced in The Leopard Mask but plays a very prominent role in Warrior in the Wilderness. At the moment, Istavan may be my favorite character in The Guin Saga—he’s such an ass. Concerned first and foremost about his own self-preservation and an excellent fighter, he provides tension within the group since no one is quite sure where his loyalties lie. Istavan doesn’t automatically get along with his companions of chance (or perhaps of fate) and his moral character is ambiguous to say the least. Amusingly enough, his constant cursing provides valuable understanding of the The Guin Saga‘s pantheon. All in all he’s not such a bad guy although it’s sometimes hard to tell, which is what makes Istavan so interesting.

I enjoyed Warrior in the Wilderness quite a bit more than The Leopard Mask. A reader new to the series could probably even start with the second book without too much of a problem since most of the major plot points from the first volume are at least mentioned. In general, the narrative flow and pacing of Warrior in the Wilderness is much better and less awkward than in The Leopard Mask. Guin still has the tendency to remember information when happens to be needed, something that strikes me more as convenient rather than mysterious. The other characters, and therefore Kurimoto, are aware of this habit but it has yet to be satisfactorily explained. Still, Guin remains a captivating and intriguing badass. Warrior in the Wilderness ends with a cliffhanger so I am looking forward to continuing The Guin Saga with the next volume, The Battle of Nospherus sooner rather than later.