Nana Volume 7

Written by Ai Yazawa
Illustrated by Ai Yazawa
Viz

While Nana K tries to hold on to her relationship to Takumi and the band Blast at the same time, she learns that the more popular someone is, the easier it is to get lost in the crowd. Meanwhile, Nano O and the rest of Blast are on the cusp of making it big. But what impact will the choices they make now have on their future, both personally and professionally?

Relationships and music labels share the same themes of commitment and contract, and that's the story of the day in this volume of Nana. Our focal characters must start looking at their decisions and how they are connected. What they see may not be to their liking, which is going to be interesting to watch as it unfolds.

Though just about everyone is doing something they may later regret, I'd tag Yasu as being the biggest potential loser. He's the only one with a steady, successful job that's probably going to have to go by the wayside if they start touring extensively. He's not keen on jumping in bed with a major label (cant' blame him!), and he's definitely hiding his feelings for someone. (Who that someone is I have no idea.)

I like that the music contract for Blast opens more doors for complicating everyone's lives without treading on the same relationship angst grounds. This is especially true for Shin, whose mysterious life may finally be opening up to the reader. I loved the sequence where Yasu, Shin, and Misato verbally spar, partly about things we already know, but partly about secrets that we don't. It's a great character piece that shows that Shin is not the only person who isn't all he seems to be. The revelations are coming just often enough to be intriguing but not so many as to spoil my desire for more. As with all of her other plotting, Yazawa has just the right touch in terms of how she's moving forward.

The biggest surprise, however, is that Yazawa seems to have plans for Nana K's ex. He shows up again as Nana K's two friends from home stop by a bar. He appears to be doing okay, gets kicked in the shins a bit about being a discarded character, and there's a discussion of Nana K's needs in a relationship. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about this, as I think we have just about enough people to follow along with as it is. However, it certainly did surprise me, so points for that. Given his inclusion, I can't help but think his time in Nana K's life, for good or for ill, isn't over yet.

But what of the two Nanas, who are after all, the focus of this manga? To be honest, I was getting a little tired of Nana K's whining going into a second volume, so I was glad to see that she takes the positive step of trying to make a relationship more than about casual sex or childhood sweethearts. But the love she expresses here sure seems deeper than it should be, and sometimes things that burn too hot end up dying in the fire created by passion. (Wow, that might be the lamest thing I ever typed in a review, but I'm keeping it.) Given Nana's general weakness when it comes to love, and her confused nature after the breakup with her school years boyfriend, this happiness may be fleeting. I hope I'm wrong, though, because once in awhile, it would be nice for true love to win out.

The most interesting element of this volume, however, has got to be the actions of Nana O. After seeing so much of her devil-may-care attitude across six trades, watching her start to act more protective of her friends in the band and her desire to see Nana K again was a needed counterpoint to the melodrama of Nana K's life. And just as you think she's starting to grow as a person, there's an amazing splash-page reveal of her true feelings about Nana K and everyone else in her world. It's absolutely brilliant, made me gasp aloud, and reminded me why I think Nana is one of the best shojo manga I've ever read.

A good writer always finds a way to surprise you, and Yazawa certainly did several times in this volume of Nana, shaking up the funk we'd been in for about ten chapters or so while Nana K made questionable life decisions and everyone worried about everything. Now things are in motion, whether the players like it or not, and it's time reap the consequences, while we as the reader follow along, nodding at mistakes and victories that we had in our own youths.

I can't say enough about how much I like Nana, as it both uses and crushes the typical shojo ideas that we've seen time and time again. From one-liners that ease the tension to simple, happy moments to revelations that keep you guessing, Nana has everything you could ask for in a comic story. I am so glad I'm reading this series, and I give it the highest possible recommendation, with the caveat that you absolutely MUST start at the beginning, or you will be totally lost. Trust me, you won't regret it!

Webcomic News: The Spacedock Seven Launches

Seven relatively new webcomics with a sci-fi background have banded together to form the Spacedock Seven, a portal to reach their individual efforts. Started a few days ago, the collective allows each weekly comic to build off the audience of the others.

Conveniently, each comic updates on a different day of the week, giving them the opportunity to have new content on a regular, daily schedule. That's extremely important, given how many comics are available to a reader. Out of sight, out of mind.

Dani Jones, of My Sister the Freak, has this to say about the collective: "Each comic is sci-fi related. That means lots of aliens, spaceships, robots, planets, and babes. What’s not to like about that? Each artist has different styles and tastes, and it’s neat to see how each one handles the genre."

Mike Maihack, author of Cleopatra in Space, notes something that's always important to me, the ability to get into a story from a webcomic: "Even better, all of the webcomics were started THIS YEAR, making every SD7 webcomic super easy to jump on to." He also notes that there are plans to make the hub a go-to place in this age of RSS, with a forum and place for news and extras that can't be seen elsewhere.

The schedule, taken from the website:

SUNDAY

Escape From Planet Nowhere http://planet-nowhere.com
by Otis Frampton

MONDAY

Cleopatra in Space! http://www.cleopatrainspace.com
by Mike Maihack

TUESDAY

Topaz http://www.topazcomic.com
by Joel Carroll

WEDNESDAY

Red’s Planet http://www.redsplanet.com
by Eddie Pittman

THURSDAY

Dimension Dust http://www.dimensiondust.com
by Grant Gould

FRIDAY

Gronk http://www.gronkcomic.com
by Katie Cook

SATURDAY

My Sister, the Freak http://www.mysisterthefreak.com
by Dani Jones

I can't speak for the others, but I am a regular reader two of the series already, and I like them both:

• Cleopatra in Space, a strip that is exactly what its title implies. There's also a talking, cautionary cat involved. It's been a lot of fun, though this may not be the best time to check in on it, because the title character has been out of the last few strips.

• Gronk is disgustingly cute, featuring a monster who just isn't very good at scaring anyone. This one is really early in its run, but I've liked it a lot so far.

I really like when webcomics are part of a larger family, because odds are if I like one, I'm going to enjoy whoever they want to pal around with in cyberspace. I'll be reading all of these in the near future and should get some time to post a few more webcomic reviews soon.

To Terra Volume 3

Written by Keiko Takemiya
Illustrated by Keiko Takemiya
Vertical

To Terra is the selected title for the fourth edition of the Manga Movable Feast, (or MMF) where those of us who hang out together in the blogosphere pick a title to talk about all at the same time. Perspectives and approaches will differ, which is part of the fun.

You can see the home page for the To Terra MMF here.

While Jomy and the rest of the Mu work to break apart the parts of the vast space machine of humanity, Keith, now risen to some of the highest positions possible, works to understand why there are Mu in the first place. Soon, a final reckoning must be had between these two groups, and their most powerful weapons are used in a plan that can only lead to mutual destruction.

With Keith plotting to destroy the Mu and some of the Mu working to make sure that peace never happens, can anyone discover the real truth behind the vast machinery of the human race before it's too late? It's a battle of bodies, bombs, and will as we finally make it...To Terra.

As I reached the closing pages of this one, I couldn't help but be saddened. Not because I found the ending to be a tear-jerker. It wasn't at all, at least for me. Instead, I mourned the fact that in a book with so many potential ideas to pursue, the one we ended up focusing on ends up letting all the other problems this world has off the hook.

The Mu aren't good because they reject reprogramming of their brains or pogroms or an authoritarian state. Instead, they are the heroes because they want to smash the machine that's at fault for *everything*. We don't get a discussion of why humanity felt it was okay to kill those who differ or if the idea of killing in the name of species preservation (another concept tossed in along the way that, to me, is far more interesting than the final result) is morally just. Nope! It's all the fault of an evil supercomputer, in a storyline that's very much a product of its time.

Because of this, all of the moral issues that have piled up over 900 pages are rendered moot. Destroy the computer causing the problem, and humanity returns to a better time. The fact that humanity programmed a computer to utilize the human race's most base survival instincts in the first place (and therefore aren't going to be magically better because the computer is gone) is glossed over. The epilogue shows the world as a better place, but I am not convinced.

I found the whole idea, as well as the way things play out in the final series of battles, to be extremely unsatisfying. There are just so many things left lying about, a few of which are, to me, very glaring omissions.

The biggest is Tony's role in the story. Tony finally goes ape (after a nice build up) and rebels against the restraints placed on him by Jomy's leadership, but he manages to accomplish nothing but some senseless deaths and then isn't even punished for his disobedience. By the end, he and the other super-Mu literally drift off to space, another unexplained and underdeveloped concept. It's as though their only real point is to prove how strong-willed Keith is and also to give the Mu a fighting chance against the human weapons. They're more like props than characters, and that's just not a good way to tell your story.

I have a similar problem with Physis, who all but disappears, except to mourn the destruction around her. For all the build up of her importance, when we get around to why she's important, it's lost in a spiral to the big finale. She's a main character without a key role in the action, and given she's the only female character of any note (the others being a reluctant super-Mu who dies in a pointless conflict and the personality of the evil computer), I found her flailing at the end to be annoying and taking up valuable pages that could have given us insight into the society we're supposed to be wanting to see eliminated but that I for one never got enough information on to make a final determination.

Keith's situation is trickier to get a feel for. I understand that his actions are driven first by careful manipulation, then by a reaction to those manipulations. However, I'm not convinced that he would be able to shake that off. He's not been driven to the breaking point so much as he's been given confirmation of what he always knew in his heart. Having given his all to preserve that which he's been created to protect, I'm not sure that Keith actually should react in the way that he does. However, since he's the only person around to put the final step in motion, I guess that's what has to happen for the story to work in the way that it does.

Unfortunately, that makes To Terra even less satisfying for me, as the only character I really felt connected to is jerked into a decision by the needs of the plot. As with everything else in this manga, it seems like Takemiya is working towards a very specific message (smart computers are bad) and any other ideas or concepts are pushed aside to make sure we get this point.

Overall, I think the problem with To Terra for me is that it never decides what it wants to be. At times, it's a very hard sci fi work, with detailed explanations of the world and how things work. That seemed to be the focus of volume one. At other times, it's showing us the complexities of the world created by volume one. There are so many philosophical issues in the second volume that you could teach a class on them. Here in volume three, the focus is on action and one final theme, the danger of giving up your humanity to machines. The problem is that since these themes don't carry over from book to book, there's a definite sense of disconnect, to the point that here in book three, I felt like I was missing crucial information needed to make sense of the whole.

If you are going (or planning) to be an epic saga, introducing all these ideas would be okay. But in only 1000 pages of comics, with many of those pages used to show your cool drawing skills in terms of detailed ships and specialized computers, there's just not enough time to try and be all concepts to all people. I'd have liked this one a lot better if we'd have been given one idea to fixate on or if it had focused more on the moral issues raise. Trying to do both just failed for me.

Alternatively, it's possible that I just see the potential on the sidelines and it blocked me from getting Takemiya's big picture. Reading anything is always open to interpretation, and I may just be the oddball who saw this as a different work from what it was intended to be. It's also possible that I've read too many deconstructed narratives and now have issues when I read a story that *could* do that, and yet doesn't.

To Terra was an interesting read, to see what a 1970s sci fi manga looks like. I can't say after this that I want to read any more in this vein, but I do appreciate getting the chance to sample it. Overall, though, in my opinion, To Terra just doesn't hold up, unless you have a fondness for Cold War science fiction. Since I really don't, it missed the mark with me. Feel free to give it a try, but I think you may find that it's just too stuck in its time period to be a compelling read in the 21st Century.

To Terra Volume 2

Written by Keiko Takemiya
Illustrated by Keiko Takemiya
Vertical

To Terra is the selected title for the fourth edition of the Manga Movable Feast, (or MMF) where those of us who hang out together in the blogosphere pick a title to talk about all at the same time. Perspectives and approaches will differ, which is part of the fun.

You can see the home page for the To Terra MMF here.

Under the leadership of Jomy, who now has the power and memories of the Blue Soldier, the Mu have settled down on an abandoned planet to call their own. They're comfortable and even starting families. It's not Terra, but who cares if they're free from persecution?

The peace, however, is short-lived, as Keith, the rising star of the human race, goes off to investigate strange doings at an old planet. What he discovers and the actions he takes will impact on the Mu in ways they never anticipated. Despite space being such a large place, everything comes down to being about needing to go...To Terra.

The first thing I noticed about this volume is that it had a lot less exposition than the first trade. In that regard alone it was light years ahead of its predecessor. Now that the world is pretty well established, Takemiya can concentrate on having her characters act in that world. We still get a few sets of lengthier explanation, but because they're mixed in with the general movement of the story, they don't stop the progress dead and don't feel like we're getting exposition dumps at every opportunity.

In fact, this middle arc focused extremely heavily on the interplay between Keith, Jomy, and Physis as well as their personal reasons for acting as they do. Even when others are involved, you can boil this volume down to the idea that Keith wants the Mu destroyed and Jomy can't decide if he wants the same for the normal humans. Everything that occurs within the pages goes back to that sentence.

Normally, I'd be very happy with the change to a character-driven narrative. The problem is that, with the exception of Keith, the people in this book are so weakly constructed that I just don't care about their personal issues. As a race, the Mu feel like stock characters who prop up a background. They have superhuman powers, a hive mind, and frankly remind me of talking animals from a Disney movie. You feel bad when they get shot, but at the end of the day, there's no compelling reason to be attached to them.

The biggest names in the Mu, such as the aggressive Captain Harley, are given so little space to breathe that their actions feel mechanical and rote. I have a feeling that there are those who don't like Jomy's leadership, but I'm never given enough screen time to tell me exactly why. Are they afraid? Resentful? Homicidal towards those who oppress their kind? Wishing for death so as to not be different? I'd love to know who they are and why they act like they do.

Instead of helping us get a better feel for what the supposedly free-thinking Mu are all about, there are pages and pages of Jomy retreating into himself, a concept that I could have easily figured out in a panel or two. It seems that in a desire to keep a laser focus on Jomy and the idea that the Mu are different from the technocratic humans, we lose several chances to show who the Mu *are* as opposed to who they are not.

Though the idea of artificial birth and childhood memory wipes are terrifying to consider, with their echoes of a Master Race, at least when they grow up to be adults, the old human race is just as crafty, lazy, or scheming as ever. I continue to be far more interested in the plain humans as a result. After all, they're still out there being pirates or hazing arrogant officials or even just feeling a strong sense of self-preservation. To me, it's a major flaw when I prefer the "evil" society (relatively speaking, since I'm not overly keen on either side) because at least after the mind-wipe, there's a sense of personality. The Mu are "free" but can't seem to change a lightbulb without a committee meeting.

That dichotomy is an interesting point of discussion, of course. Is it better to be free as a concept and stuck always making your choices as a group, right down to not being allowed to think of anything but what the majority wish you to? Or is the freedom on a day to day level, with the big decisions being made by a semi-oppressive State the better way to go? That's a thought which could be debated for ages and might actually be the most interesting moral dilemma we've seen so far in the book.

However, I don't think that was what Takemiya was going for at all, since the human race is shown to be the aggressor in a way that is so horrible as to make them clear villains (even if they're villains I prefer to their victims). Thus, to me, it's a failing in the book. We're supposed to want the Mu to pull through, but they lead such a dull life that I just can't bring myself to be upset if they don't.

If I may argue against myself for just a minute, there is a possibility that, given what we see here in these chapters, Takemiya is going for a third way, namely to show that these two forms of Utopia that we see on display are equally flawed. The Mu's communal ideals lead to bland lives while the militarization and mechanization of humanity takes away extreme difference in the name of progress and stability.

I'd almost buy that, except that the human race is shown using weapons that are designed to be a clear echo of the nuclear bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It's a powerful moment that draws a strong emotional reaction in the reader, and the Mu aren't even close to having a similar ability to destroy. There is no possible way I can see Takemiya wanting the reader to relate to the side that uses the most horrible weapons imaginable to foster genocide. To me, it's clear she wants us to side with the Mu--the trouble is, I'm just not given a good reason to care about them.

Though he's definitely a heartless man, Keith shines through all this because he is constantly thinking, acting, and feeling. He refuses to let his friend go unavenged, and uses a government assignment to make that happen. He turns an assassination attempt into an advantage. Even after going too far out on a limb and ending up in the worst of positions, Keith never gives up, as he looks for the way out. He's proactive, as opposed to the reactive Jomy or the paralyzed Physis, and uses that drive to beat impossible odds. Again, this is something that's attractive to me in a character, but since he's also behind a scorched earth policy, you're not allowed to like him. He is by far the only person in this book that rises above stock character level, which is a real shame.

There is one last concept I want to go over here before I end this review, and that's Tony and the other natural-born Mu children. They are mutants within mutants, and already know that's going to be a problem for them. I wish we'd *see* this being a problem for them, but again, that doesn't appear to be as important to the author as it is to me. Instead, a vague idea of scariness just because they are different is going to have to do. I'd love to see this explored in the final chapter, but I'm not hopeful, based on what has gone before. Will the Mu allow this gigantic difference, that only applies to the children born on Naska, or do they resort to the tactics of their enemies?

It's another great idea in a series that has so much potential. Unfortunately, it's competing with too many other ideas and the need to have relationship drama, battle scenes, and personal angst, so I can't see it getting the time that it deserves.

For me, To Terra is a frustrating read. It's gotten past the problems I have with most hard science fiction stories, but now has entirely too many balls in the air and contains too many characters that just don't do anything for me. The ideas I want to explore just don't have enough room to move, since now we have to run to the finish line before the third volume concludes. It's a shame, because I think given more space or tighter control over ideas, I'd have really liked To Terra. As it stands, two-thirds of the way through, I can't really recommend it. It's just got too many problems and not enough time to get them fixed.

To Terra Volume 1

Written by Keiko Takemiya
Illustrated by Keiko Takemiya
Vertical

To Terra is the selected title for the fourth edition of the Manga Movable Feast, (or MMF) where those of us who hang out together in the blogosphere pick a title to talk about all at the same time. Perspectives and approaches will differ, which is part of the fun.

In my case, this is a new series for me, so I'll be featuring my volume by volume reviews this week, starting here with Volume 1.

You can see all of the posts about To Terra for the Manga Movable Feast here.

I'm betting right now that I'm going to be the minority opinion. Keep in mind that I am by no means the target audience for this one. I'd bet dollars to donuts my friend Noah would really like this. (Let me know if you end up reading it, pal.) I don't read a lot of sci fi, and when I do, it tends to be of the short, Ray Bradbury style that emphasizes action over world building. I don't know that I've ever finished a "hard" sci fi novel, and the only writer in that vein that I have a fondness for is Warren Ellis, who writes some of the most distinctive characters around. To Terra doesn't match up to my reading style and so you shouldn't necessarily discount it because of me. That said, let's get started...

The time is somewhere in the far future. Humanity has done all it could to Planet Earth, or Terra. The world, still unique in all the cosmos, cannot take any more. Terra becomes an empty shell, reworked in the image of a technocratic, Darwinian society that values perfection over personality and raises its children accordingly, without true parents and without individuality. While Terra heals, the human race moves off into space, to return only when the select few are deemed worthy to return home.

In the path of perfection, there are always speed bumps. Mutants arrive, with strong psychic powers. They're killed if they can be found, but manage to hold their own in their own refuge. Soon, we see the two groups start to bump heads for the right to inhabit their old homeland. The key to the future looks to be held by two boys, one on each side, and both with great potential. Who will win the right to go...To Terra?

I realize that's a mouthful as far as an introduction goes, but I'm not even sure that covers all we see in the first volume of To Terra, a story that's very much the product of its time, the late 1970s. This trade is nearly 90% information dump, as Takemiya strives to make sure that the reader understands everything about the world she's created. There are so many details in the first two parts and roughly 300 pages that it's hard to get any characterization going.

That was a big problem for me. I almost always read for character over plot, and the fact that I really don't know much about how Jomy feels about this sudden change in his life--or even if he really still is Jomy!--bothers me. The supporting cast of Mu surrounding him are, at least so far, as interchangeable as pawns on a chessboard and half as interesting. There are flashes of interest when Jomy begins his life as part of the underground, but they're too far and few between for my taste. Beyond feeling obligated to like them because they're meant to represent free will, an imposition forced on the reader that turned me off as well, I don't see any reason to care whether or not the Mu live or die. They seem weak, whiny, and just as apt to discriminate. They just lack the power to do so. I'm really hoping for better in the next two books in the series.

Keith ends up better developed and as a result, I have to keep fighting against my urge to want the "bad guys" to win. Their society may be terrible and punish free thought and independent action, but at least we get to see them doing just that! There's all sorts of jealousies, class issues, and political intrigue. There was a lot of action, relatively speaking, in Keith's section of the book, and this made the info-dumping feel less blatant. Still, with the exception of a character who flames out and can't really be used again, the authoritarian side of the equation really has no one going for it beyond the main character, either.

Given that there's only three volumes and about 1000 pages of story in this series, I found the way in which I was introduced into the world of To Terra extremely off-putting. Had it not been part of the MMF, I do not think I would have bothered past the ridiculously dense first part. This manga seems to fall victim to the reason I tend to read more fantasy than science fiction: It feels like the writer has to trip over themselves establishing the world, and that gets in the way of making the story interesting from the early going. It's why I seem to enjoy short sci fi better as a rule--the author doesn't have time to bog me down in the minutia.

A more technical story can work for me, but the author must be careful to make sure there's a balance between telling a interesting story with good characters, and making a believable world that has a reason to exist. Takemiya does a good job on the latter--there's no way this could be anything other than a sci fi story--but fails miserably, at least for me, at making good characters.

To Terra is leaning heavily on the setting and the grand concept of free will versus a controlling state to drive it along, at least in this early going. There's a lot of explanation of what that sort of world means to Takemiya, and you can see the influence of 1970s political ideas and fiction driving her style. This is an era where we still figured we could colonize space and that we'd have to leave Planet Earth because we were ruining it. It's a time when there were stories of not trusting adults came from the rebellion of the late 1960s. The idea that the government, in order to create a better society, would take away free will, was almost certainly seen as both plausible and dangerous. (Now, it just seems to be seen as plausible and only dangerous if you're not the party in power.)

It's a mix that features prominently in To Terra and had there been more interesting characters, I think I would have liked the story better. I like the idea of dreams being used to determine who's dangerous to the state, the concept that any deviation, no matter how slight from the "utopian" state, is treated like a medical issue, and the fact that this homogenization of the human race is seen as the only way to save it. Would having even one dissenting voice destroy the fragile return of the human race to earth? Does that justify the killing of free will? Had the story spent more time on the way in which the cast feels about these problems and less about showing me (admittedly well drawn) space ships, I would have felt quite differently about the book.

Overall, I like the ideas in To Terra a lot, but I felt the execution was too burdened by an unnecessary need to show us everything from the start, leaving nothing for later. It crowds out the bigger concepts and leaves us with characters who are no more interesting than a store mannequin. A great idea is nothing without great characters. I'm going to keep reading To Terra, but based on this first volume, I'm honestly not too hopeful that the author can change her style radically enough to make this into a book I like.

Bleach Volume 5

Written by Tite Kubo
Illustrated by Tite Kubo
Viz

A very deadly game is afoot when a fellow student from another set of people who reap souls challenges Ichigo to a duel. Setting off a bomb basically designed to lure hollows of all kinds, Ichigo and his soul-sensitive friends soon find themselves facing hordes of hollows. Can they make it out of this pride-made disaster alive?

This was a much more action-oriented issue of the series compared to the ones before it, which make sense, given the premise. Ishida has opened pandora's box in a fit of pique, and now all sorts of monsters are going after anyone with the slightest sensitivity. It's a neat idea that works out rather well, as it allows Kubo to make explicit all the hints he's been throwing out, and shows that this world of soul reaping is not nearly as straightforward as Rukia has led Ichigo to believe.

I like that the fights all have their own feel to them. Ishida fights with a spiritual bow, to counter the swords that reapers appear to use. There's a feel of snobbery and elitism in his movements that fits the character well. Ichigo does his usual thing, as emotional as ever, and Orihime's defense mechanism is completely different from everyone else. It's both cute and deadly, which again, fits her well.

The spotlight, however, is on Chad. We already know he's a bit strange compared to the rest of the world, but here he gets a makeover that even he's not expecting. I thought the progression from vague recognition to being able to fight the hollow was really well done, especially with the comparisons to Chad's past life. It's little touches like that which make this different from other shonen manga in my opinion, and is a big reason why I keep read it from trade to trade.

Though the focus is on action, we do get a little bit of personal details. I mentioned Chad's history above, but there's also time to fill in a bit about the Quinceys, and Orihime's relationships. I thought it was kinda cool that her feelings about people ended up tying in to the hollow she has to fight.

We also still get the moments of humor, such as Chad's friends wanting to make sure they get to the restaurant in time for the specials and Ichigo's complete inability to notice anything, such as the fact that Ishida has been in his class the entire time. Those little touches here and there always keep me entertained.

Despite being action-packed, I was able to follow all the action without a problem. Kubo does use a lot of shonen action lines and large sound effects, but they don't get in the way of the actual story. No one is ever going to call Bleach a fine work of art, but the panel structures do what they need to do for the reader to get the feel of each battle, and that's good enough for me. I continue to like how Kubo uses eye motion for conveying emotion, since there's not much room to do anything else this time.

I'm still not sure if I'll follow Bleach all the way out to the end, but when I have a shonen itch, this scratches it nicely. I certainly don't think it's amazing, but those looking for a solid shonen should be happy with what they find here, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Dungeon Monstres Volumes 1

Written by Lewis Trondheim and Joann Sfar
Illustrated by Mazan and Jean-Christophe Menu
NBM

The wily William Delacour gets out from under the curse of the Sword of Destiny while working with a band of hungry monsters and two of our friends from the Dungeon go on an adventure to help fix the broken heart of a crying giant. It's trouble times two as we see some stories behind the stories in this part of the ongoing Dungeon series by Trondheim and Sfar.

I really like the clever idea of putting together a spinoff series for Dungeon featuring the minor characters. Not everyone is going to want to read every single Dungeon story that Sfar and Trondheim want to write (I do, of course, but I'm a completist and I love the world they've designed), especially if it doesn't feature the most prominent characters. Moving them to their own book, where fans of the series can choose whether or not they want to read these side adventures, while allowing the creators to explore things like the ramification of "buying" a giant's eye, is a brilliant idea.

Neither of these stories are important to the main cannon, but they are a lot of fun. The first story is filled with the absurd humor that makes this series so enjoyable to me. A group of monsters run an inn, where they kill whoever wanders by to stay the night. The problem is that they put it too far away from anything else, and now they're starved for food. Oh, the problems of being a monster!

Meanwhile, Delacour is shown to be a swindler and a blowhard, always trying to finagle a deal out of someone, from the sword to the demon to the Dungeon Master himself. He's a horrible human being duck, but because he always loses in the end, we can laugh at him. My favorite example of his inability to see reality is when he says that the people who bought his fortune telling book (the excepts we get from it are classic) should have used it to know they were in danger. The truth of the matter is far more tragic, and gives us one of the most poignant scenes in the story.

The book itself bills the first story as that of John-John the Terror, a mild-mannered monster who gets abused for being too kind. It's very much a Sfar plot, and the more I read his stories, the more convinced I am that he, like Will Eisner, has some serious issues with women. I'll get into that further below, when I go over the second story. John-John is in love with a monster who resents him for being so nice, and I just wasn't all that interested in the concept.

After all, when one of the monsters worships a being that's a merging of Conan the Barbarian with Babar the beloved children's story figure, there's no time to waste on angst.

The second story is the first time I've read a Dungeon tale where the artist did not try to ape Trondheim's style exactly. While Mazan keeps the look and feel of the other Dungeon books I've read, Mr. Menu's work is more open. The lines are smoother, more polished. His characters emote through their faces in a way that Trondheim's cannot. They also feel a bit more solid, as though the artist is trying to make them more realistic. After so many stories in the other format, I just can't help but say that seeing the Dungeon folk look "normal" was really, really weird. I'd be curious to know what others think.

Unfortunately, I can't say that I like the story itself. There were a few moments of silliness (our pair of magicians allow themselves to die in order to escape a trap, for instance, because they lack a better idea) but the general tone of the piece falls back on the fickleness of women, a theme that Sfar has used over and over again. This time, it's Queen Sonya, who refuses to love any man who wants to treat her right. This ensnares the giant, whose eye at the Dungeon is crying because of his emotional pain.

By the time we get to the end of the story, Sonya is portrayed as a horrible person who refuses to do domestic chores (they're the perils of her castle that men must beat to be with her if they play by the rules), rebuffs actual affection, and only accepts Marvin (who gets a bum deal here I think) when he opts to love her and leave her on a regular basis. It's a frankly horrible portrayal of women, and in the end, Sonya's actions lead to multiple deaths. I didn't care for the overarching theme of this one, and I think that makes it the first Dungeon story I've disliked.

There are a few good moments, however. A set of demented smurfs make good use of a crying giant to water their fields. Alcibiades ends up with a love potion that makes him say hysterical things about himself at all the wrong moments. And Marvin's pacifist quirk does get put to good use, even if I wish he'd been left out of this one. Those moments, however, just weren't enough to save it for me.

No longer running series is going to please every reader, every time. Despite not caring for the second story in this book, I'd still recommend reading it, because the first story is good. Dungeon is a very strong concept that is still being explored. I look forward to reading more side-stories in the volumes of Monstres to come.

Goon Volume 7

Written by Eric Powell
Illustrated by Eric Powell
Dark Horse

Things just keep getting worse for the Goon and his friends. As the old Zombie Priest reaps what he sows, old foes return to haunt Goon and Frankie. As they try to keep their heads above water in this ever-changing situation, other players make their return to town. Can even all the Goon's many resources and added allies stop the doom that's starting to pick off his friends one by one?

The darker trend of the past few volumes continues here, as the Goon spends the opening trying to take stock of his revised life and and the end builds to an imposing sense that everything he's worked for is about to come crashing down around his ears. It's almost like we're reading Goon: Disassembled.

Normally, I might be unhappy at this set of circumstances, as I tend to get annoyed after years of reading western comics that seem to think the only way to tell a new and enjoyable story is to make it darker somehow. The difference is that Goon always was a dark comedy. The idea that it's just getting a little more serious is perfectly okay with me, because Powell is taking pains to make sure that every adjustment that happens in this comic is there for a reason. No one is killed just to be shocking, Frankie doesn't suddenly start having weird, school girl on acid dreams (oh wait, yes actually he does), and every change to the status quo we've seen so far has ended up existing to prove a point.

I've said time and again that I don't have a single problem with dark comics. I love them, in fact. But if you're creating radical changes to characters we've known for decades with no point other than to goose sales or to try to get into USA Today, then I'm going to call you out on it.

I can't imagine the Goon ever making it into USA Today, or any other "nice" publication. So much the better, as I like the fact that Powell doesn't try to make something that's for everyone. It means that even those this series has grown increasingly popular over the years, we still get the same absolutely unbelievable crude ideas, such as a person who can't use a toothbrush correctly, zombies that make cake (complete with bits of dead skin), or talking bits of ripped-off face. If that's not enough, look for a closing number in here where Powell takes on Oprah and stupid self-help books.

There are times when even I blanch a bit, such as the idea of characters using slurs against transgendered folk and gays, but honestly, if *something* in a collection of the Goon doesn't offend you, then it's either missing a key ingredient in the formula (Volume 6 , the graphic novel, had this issue) or you are one disturbed and unflappable person.

As long as we have this balance between the dark parts of the book and the over-the-top crude humor, the Goon will continue to be a great read. This set of stories gets back to the pattern, and I couldn't be happier. If I can't have my overly-horny Frankie or men with one arm and a ham, then I don't want to read it!

Behind the darkness and slapstick, however, is a really strong plot that's been brewing for some time now. If you watch carefully, and as the Goon himself notes, a lot of his prior enemies are now allies, and I think we may be adding at least one more before this is all over. I hadn't noticed that until this trade, but it's an interesting touch on Powell's part. Every story that felt like a one-off now has bigger meaning, which both shocks and impresses me.

There's also the big reveal that I won't spoil here. All I will say is that's hard to keep a bad man down, especially in comics. The return we see here is absolutely brilliant, and I can't wait to see the final confrontation when it happens.

I'm a big fan of the Goon and Eric Powell as well. This series is still going strong, and keeps all the things I liked about it in place while growing as a story that can last beyond a few sets of single-issue jokes. It's one of the best comics out there--don't let the foul language and crude scenes fool you. There's a great story being told, and I highly recommend this series to anyone with a strong constitution looking for a strong story. Those who fit that description won't be disappointed.

Nightschool Volume 1

Written by Svetlana Chmakova
Illustrated by Svetlana Chmakova
Yen Press

Alex is a young woman who lives in a world where the supernatural is everywhere--if you know how to look for it. Her sister helps run a "Nightschool" where people with special abilities learn their lessons but she is stuck being taught at home instead. When Alex decides to take a powder and her sister gets into some serious trouble, the many characters we meet along the way all seem to be drawn into a fate that could cause the world to end. Is it better for Alex to visit or stay away from..the Nightschol?

I read a lot of supernatural-themed comics, and I also read a lot of comics that have high schools as their backdrop. Unfortunately, the two don't always go together as well as I'd like (see Rosario+Vampire). So I admit, I was a little gunshy about this one. However, I am pleased to say that this one manages to get things right on a lot of levels, from a large cast of intriguing characters to a distinct lack of fan service.

Like a lot of first volumes, this trade has a lot going on. We have to meet everyone who is going to be important later, from Alex to her ditsy, chronically late sister (props for making an adult act like a typical shojo girl) to the hunters, a group of people who seem dead-set on eliminating magical creatures. There's also the need to set up the world and the possible threat, which just may come from a source we don't want to hate.

It's a lot to pack in all at one time, and I'm sure that other writers would likely have spread it across the first dozen chapters. I think Chmakova manages to make it work, but she does walk a thin line in the process. The key, I think, is that while there is a definite aura of mystery about the whole thing, she is not being purposefully obtuse about what we're getting to see here in these opening pages. If we didn't get a good picture of Alex or what a magical hospital can do, I'd have probably been upset at the number of concepts tossed out there for later use. As it stands, I could live with it--if we start to settle down as the volumes go on. I don't think I'd want to read a series that constantly shows good ideas and do nothing with them. Your mileage may vary, so be aware that if you don't like a lot of balls in the air from the early going, this may not be the best manga for you.

I think the most interesting thing we saw in the early going is the idea of the hunters. They appear to be led by a Blade-like guy who is teaching students outside the classroom to go after the very people that the Nightschool is training. I was not expecting there to be such a counterweight, but I think it's a great idea. While I am of course rooting for the supernatural folks, because I always want the monster to win, it makes perfect sense that not everyone would be so happy to have vampires, witches, and other things lurking about. The idea that there's some kind of treaty between the two sides--and yet problems still occur--really intrigues me. I hope we get some time in future volumes for this part of the story.

The neatest trick that Chmakova uses this conflict for is a semi-comic, semi-serious scene where a human girl is haunting a cemetery with her vampire boyfriend. Filled with what I can't help but think is a bit of Twilight-skewering love for vampires, the girlfriend is verbally abusive to the hunters even as they're saving her life. There are several other moments like this that dissolve the tension built up across the more serious parts of the book, such as a cute astral that loves cookies and making a mess.

Alternating between building scary tension, actions scenes, and comic relief is part of what makes any horror story or book work. Even if you're planning to lean more heavily on one trait or the other, you need all three to craft a story that keeps the reader interested. I'm very impressed that Ms. Chmakova recognizes and uses it, as it seems a lot of horror these days is all about the gore, to the expense of story. You can be horrible and bloody, no question--but make sure that there's a build up for that payoff. By keeping the mystery going, giving us enough action to whet our apatite for more, and adding little comic bits, Nightschool uses this classic horror formula to good effect.

If there's one problem I had with the structuring of the narrative, it's that we spent a lot of time on Alex's sister here, even though she doesn't appear to be someone that's going to show up a lot in the future. (I could be very wrong on this, of course.) She's used to help explore the world, but if we aren't going to keep her around much, I'd rather see someone else do that. It's a minor complaint, however.

Artistically, Ms. Chmakova manages to make her style look like a blending of manga styles. She's got the long, flowing lines of something you might see from CLAMP, but also uses looser facial construction that reminds me more of some of the western superhero comics that I've read. Chmakova is not afraid to cartoonize her characters if the situation warrants it, but like Ai Yazawa, she doesn't overdo it. With the exception of the battle scene, which was a little weak visually and had too much crowded together, I really like the artwork seen in this manga.

It's a blending that I guess should have tipped me off to the fact that this is an OEL manga, but I was completely fooled until I researched it later. This is by far the best OEL manga I've read (I don't count Blue Monday or Scott Pilgrim, and I didn't like Empowered and never finished it), because while it's clearly written in the style of a Japanese comic, Chmakova doesn't try to shove in every manga trope she can find. Instead, she uses them when needed, just like any other manga-ka would do. It reads more like a person who started with a story and opted to use eastern styles to create it than someone who set out to write a manga and came up with the plot later. I'd happily read more OEL that works like this.

Nightschool was a great find for me. It's a horror manga that's focused squarely on the story, not cheap thrills or violence, with characters who make me want to learn more about them. I think I owe Deb for this one, though I'm not quite sure. Regardless, I loved the first volume of Nightschool and look forward to reading more of it. If you like horror stories that aren't all blood and guts, give this one a try. I think you'll dig it.

DC Comics: Now Standing for Definitely Conservative?

Warning: While I try not to get overly political here at Panel Patter, this commentary makes statements that have their basis in an apparent difference in political ideology between myself and the people in charge of DC comics. If you're curious, read this and please tell me what you think. If you don't like political discussions in relation to comic books, then I strongly suggest you move on. -Rob

As you may have heard, DC Comics, now run by Dan Dido and Jim Lee, has opted to shut down CMX, the Manga line of DC Comics. The reasoning stated is that there are "challenges that manga is facing in the American marketplace", most likely a reference to financial issues that other publishers are experiencing.

Now, I admit I'm upset at this news because I like manga, and I like the CMX Manga I've tried. I'd be plenty mad if this was Marvel or Dark Horse or whoever shuttering a division that provided comics which I found to be really good. It's also been a rough road for manga of late, which seems to get pirated far more than other comics. I mean, just lately, Del Rey cut out some projects, Go Comi! has lost its website and can't be reached and Viz had to lay off a large number of workers. So this latest news just feels like another kick in the shins.

However, I feel that this is deeper than just canning what is probably not a very profitable arm of the comics division of the larger Warner Brothers company. This is not a move in isolation, it's a pattern of action that leads me to believe that DC Comics is trying to market itself to a group of people who, like the comics DC is promoting, want to look backward into the age of what was, rather than forward into the promise of the future. Giving up on manga, despite the fact that the right titles, marketed properly, can compete financially with most of what DC publishes in single issue and trade form, strikes me as part of a trend that places the company squarely with a vocal political minority that refuses to accept that the world has changed.

In other words, it sure looks like DC is trying to be the comic arm of the Tea Party and those who want to keep this country divided along racial lines. With the stories of the past few years, DC has not been a good place to be if you aren't a white male character steeped in years of history. It seems like they have no desire to even try to write a comic written for women or minorities, or at least one that doesn't show them as being second class.

I'm not saying that capes comics are generally a good place for women or minorities. How many plots have revolved around powerless (and even powered) female characters getting abducted, abused, and/or killed? I bet we could name a lot of them without even breaking a sweat.

But if you look at DC's pattern since around the time of Identity Crisis, you see a slow but sure progression of DC using violence against women as a recurring plot device (take Dr. Light, who even manages it as an undead Black Lantern), an uptick in gore (blood-vomiting characters, anyone?), and women as objects (Hal's joke about 3-ways). Female characters left almost naked and weak after a battle? Giving Wonder Woman a ring of love because she's got a thing for Bruce Wayne? Bringing Firestorm to life, but using the white version as his physical form? It's hard for me to believe that no one at the company sees what they are doing.

If that's not bad enough, other than Blue Beetle, a third-stringer at best, can you name a legacy character not formerly written by Greg Rucka that hasn't been rebooted back to being the white male all the 40 year olds knew and loved when they were kids? I know just making a list doesn't prove anything, but this post showing just how many times the Dan Dido-helmed DC has taken out the minority version of its character is pretty damning.

Now, I used that example because I didn't want to spend hours working on my own list. There are many problems with that blogger's entry, starting with the fact that some of the racial designations are kinda dubious. There's no context, either. There's not a list of white characters who also got the axe, since DC is drowning in a wave of dead bodies for most of this decade. Those are just a few points against it. However, to see a list like that does make you stop and think, when you combine it with other factors.

I know some of those replacements were forced on readers, and in other cases, it seems that the change in race was more akin to a change in costume. I mean, I gotta admit, I'll never forgive Jamie Reyes for not being Ted Kord. Why couldn't Jamie be his own hero, or at least leave Ted alive to mentor him? I've also heard the argument that the stories with the minority racial characters weren't very good. You know, they may be right. But were many of them given a fair shake? If you look at John Stewart's first appearances, it's not like he was perfect. You could argue it took the animated JLA series to get him going. Plus, it's not like bad stories are limited to new characters. There's plenty of clunkers in Batman's vast publishing history. I wonder if anyone cared to try and make these characters real stars or if they were all just marking time for a set of triumphant returns of the "real heroes," who of course just so happen to be white.

When you see so many returns to the 1970s, but with a level of violence only the 1990s could love, and top it off with not a single person at DC thinking perhaps calling something a "white power ring" might not be the best idea, I can't help but think that we need to take a look at who DC is trying to market to.

Sure seems like comics with a lot of white male characters getting into over the top bloody action scenes with women as collateral damage would be a big hit with those who see nothing wrong with the racism of 1950s Westerns, want the country to remain English only, and refuse to acknowledge the legal birth of a United States President, now doesn't it? As an added bonus, watch fans of the current DC comics state that they can't see race, just like they do at Tea Party rallies when questioned on the same subject. I am amazed that anytime anyone suggests that racial factors might be at stake, it's like finding out there's gambling in Casablanca. Maybe the two aren't linked, but if you're saying the same thing as a person holding up a "He's from Kenya" sign, maybe you need to start looking inward at what you're reading, writing, and/or publishing.

Am I being unfair? Maybe just a little. But given that DC the parent company gave up on their Minx line after failing to find a way to make it work (try not asking Vertigo writers or D&D enthusiasts to write the scripts) and is now giving up on CMX despite critical acclaim for their books, I can't help but think that Dan Dido, the main main behind these changes, has an agenda to promote and is using his power at DC to do it. The canning of CMX by Dido fits this pattern perfectly. After all, it has a plethora of non-white characters by definition, is popular with female and gay readers, and often shows non-traditional values in a positive light. That doesn't appear to be the demographic DC is looking for right now, as they write comic after comic that's bound to be most popular with an older, whiter, right-wing fan base.

Don't believe me? Air, a Vertigo series that sports an Arabic-looking roguish hero who fights against a Dick Chaney clone and also features a female-run company that uses South American Indian technology to make the world a better place that's less dependent on oil, just got canceled, too.

Again, any one of these things is a coincidence. All of them together form a pattern in my eyes. Even if it's a pattern designed to chase dollars rather than a particular political agenda, I can't see how this strategy works in the long term. White men are going to be the minority in the United States within the next 50 years, probably sooner. They already are in terms of the world. DC seems hell-bent on making sure they alienate or (at best) ignore a huge potential audience. I just don't get why. The only answer I see is politics.

Circling back to to CMX to close this out. Manga single volumes sell into the millions in Japan, though they are less popular here. However, there's more of a market for a popular manga than there is for the plethora of low-selling titles that DC keeps afloat every month. Had anyone actually bothered to get CMX into the hands of people who wanted to read them (Border's and the like), I bet they'd have better financial success. Refusing to give that a try makes me wonder about the direction of the company.

Placing CMX at the mercy of the direct market was a mistake. I've haunted comic book shops for almost thirty years, and I can count the number of manga purchases I've seen there in the dozens, if that. Hell, *I* never bought a single volume at my LCS. Manga is sneered at by a large volume of the direct market crowd--unless of course it features a lot of cleavage. In a way, it's amazing to me that CMX lasted this long without having a bookstore presence at least as big as the one for DC's trade paperbacks.

At the end of the day, I'm sure the bottom line dictated part, perhaps most, of the decision of DC comics to give up on manga. But on the other hand, a few changes in marketing and a little actual support could have leveraged DC into a leader in the manga market that's taken a hit with the pullbacks by Del Rey, Viz, and, going back a little bit, Tokyopop. It would also have been a way for DC to one-up Marvel, whose manga attempts in-house were not very good and who lost its outsourced deals.

Given how many poor-selling DC titles that are out there (Magog, I'm looking at you!), I can't believe this move was made for purely financial reasons. If there were pullbacks all around the company, I might buy that argument. But when you're putting out almost 100 comics a month, and many of them can't outsell in a month what a baseball team draws on an average night, we aren't dealing with a financial fallout. I think it says more about the mindset of the people in charge, which, based on current output, has more in common with the Tea Party than those who are looking to make the world a better, more inclusive, place.

I really hope I'm wrong about this. Perhaps it is just about a quick dollar--the gore and glamor is giving DC a boost in the sales standings, after all. The popularity of what Chris Sims refers to as "regressive storytelling," might just have racial and cultural implications as an accidental (if harmful) side effect. I think Sims has a point. DC wants its creators to write comics that sell, and comic book fans don't take to change very well. It could be less of an axe to grind and more of a need to try and prop up an industry that's so resistant to change that they'd rather pay $4.00 for a bad Batman story than a good one featuring, say, the Creeper.

Yet Wonder Woman is an amazing, long-standing character who can't even get DC to make her into a movie or give her a major, company-wide story. Why is that? Sims notes that comics fans called John Stewart "Black Lantern" for years, and don't forget what people said when Dwayne McDuffie was writing Justice League or the way in which DC handled the Milestone characters, right down to lobotomizing McDuffie's epigraphs. There's yet another example of DC being unfriendly to anyone who isn't white or whose characters might not act in the ways that a conservative reader wants them to. There's gotten to be so many since Dido took over that I can use them casually to end paragraphs!

This is not meant to say that all DC fans are right wing, anti-feminist, racist bigots. Or that everyone who works for DC is writing comics that have racist, overtones. Gail Simone, Grant Morrison, and Jimmy Palmiotti are just three writers can name off the top of my head who are still going good work. But even they are catering to those who like their violence meter set to 11.

At some point, this pattern has got to be set by someone, and I think that someone has a worldview that is very different from mine. Taking it all together, from white rings to white Firestorm to no manga, and this certainly looks like a company that's trying to recreate a past that I for one do not want to return to.

Obviously, based on sales, I guess I'm in the minority on this one. That fact makes me sad, because I'd like to think we're better than that as a country and as a fan base. We can do better than comics that kill babies for shock value, people. And guess what? We can do them with characters who don't look like us, too. CMX's demise is a symptom of a bigger problem, one that right now, I don't think has a cure.

Powers Volume 5

Written by Brian Michael Bendis
Illustrated by Michael Avon Oeming
Image

Due to the events of the prior trade, Detective Deena Pilgrim is working with a new partner but still on the powers beat. They're investigating the apparent serial killing of powers, both good and bad. A lucky break brings Deena to the truth behind the series of killings--and right back in to the life of former Detective Christian Walker. Can they put aside their differences long enough to take down a cult driven by the destruction of superheroes?

This was the last stop for me on my Powers tour when I was first reading it, and during the re-read, I could understand why. Rather than letting the mystery drive the story, it feels like we had a killing spree artificially created in order to reset the status quo of the Powers world. Thus, everything that happens has a contrived nature to it, as though it was scripted with a rigid ending--Walker's inevitable return--in mind. While that's acceptable in an issue or two, across an entire arc it just didn't work for me.

The problem is that the set up just doesn't have much going for it. After starting off with a great idea--and a few more nifty one-off caped crusaders--we're quickly in solution mode as the deus ex machina of a video tape takes out the mystery angle quickly. Dina's partner is clearly useless from the start, so we watch Deena do all the work as she tries to nail the person or person involved. This could have been a good chance to see Pilgrim as strong detective, but instead she's got the case handed to her. It's a disappointing choice on the part of Bendis. I expect better.

Further, I found the way in which things are resolved to be entirely too pat. Pilgrim gets to beat people up and nothing happens to her. It's meant to be a bit of comic over the top violence in a series that features an awful lot of gruesome scenes, but I just wasn't buying it--especially since she's under suspicion from the death of Johnny Royale. Similarly, Walker's return to the force has all the subtlety of the time Pilgrim was returned. A quick sweep under the rug, and everything is back to normal. I could live with it, except that this is now the second time that we've seen that trick pulled. If it happens a third time, I'm probably going to stop reading.

I also didn't care for the way that Pilgrim and Walker were reunited on a personal level. Waving things under the rug in the bureaucracy is one thing--waving very personal issues between two people is another entirely. Maybe that's a cop thing, I don't know. It certainly makes for inferior storytelling, in my opinion.

There just wasn't a lot in this volume that I like, which is unfortunate. Oeming's art is his usual excellent self, and the designs for the new heroes are always clever. Bendis's dialog is typical for him, with every character talking themselves to death. I normally like that better, but in this case, I don't think they got anything really good to stay. It doesn't help that there's whole strings of profanity, which just doesn't add anything.

My 2008 self referred to this volume as "flat," and I think that's apt. I don't think there was any good way to get Walker back, and this trade proved it. It would have been better to keep him in blue or keep him from Pilgrim, at least for a few set of story arcs. As it stands, the whole thing felt like a trick that didn't end up surprising the reader.

Whatever the case, this one shakes my faith in the series a bit. I'm going to keep reading, but honestly, Powers is going to need to get better for me to want to keep reading. It had a lot of promise, but there are cracks showing.

Nana Volume 6

Written by Ai Yazawa
Illustrated by Ai Yazawa
Viz

The fates of the two Nanas are firmly linked to Nana O's band Blast and its rival Trapnest, as relationships amongst the members of the singing groups get ever more complicated. Can either set of musicians survive the pitfalls inherent in the secret meetings, one-night stands, lies, and cover stories? Will the friendship of the two Nanas be pushed to the breaking point?

This entire trade is a tangled web knitted carefully by Yazawa over the past few volumes. Things play out about as you might expect them to, though there definitely a few surprises along the way. I especially liked the way in which we finally learn how Shin survives, making him tragic and heartless all at the same time. His scenes are far less comical now, as he serves to show that sex does not necessarily equal love.

That's a lesson that pertains directly to our primary point of view character, Nana K. She can't decide whether she wants a relationship or just a way to keep the bed warm. Because of this, Nana K also can't get a read on what she should do, so she lies to her friends, probably lies to herself, and sees better things in Takumi than are actually there.

Though she's far more adult than she was when this series started, Nana K is headed for a fall--again. Nana O was there for her the first time, but with lies mixing in with personal and professional jealousy, will Nana K have anyone to help her after the inevitable crash? I'm not so sure, but I can't wait to see how Yazawa opts to handle things.

This volume feels like it's Nana K's exploration of herself, and the large amount of monologue she has in these pages drives that impression. But Yazawa makes sure we understand that none of the nine folks involved are coming away from any of these mixings cleanly. Nana O wanted to move on with her life, and here she is, following Ren just like she didn't want to. Yasu's feelings are still hidden, but it's clear he's not happy with how he cannot keep the two groups apart. Reira is making her own mistakes and I don't think Ren is respecting Nana O's need to be herself. Takumi risks the ire of the others over his actions, Shin is living a dangerous life, and of course, there's Nobu, the boy who can't wrack up the nerve to try and get the girl. (Shojo-reading men of the universe, admit it--that was you, too, wasn't it?)

With all this drama looming over the story, we almost collapse under the weight. If Yazawa isn't careful, these spinning plates of problems are going to crash and we'll be left with too much angst and wallowing in grief to have a good book. Based on everything I've read, however, I trust her judgment.

Nana is a very complicated ongoing manga, but if you read from the start, everything has been building to this point. I do think we're due for a relief of tension soon, however. I'm really looking forward to seeing how this all plays out. If you've kept up this far in Nana, I think you'll be wanting to read more of this series, too.

The Spirit Archives Volume 5

Written by "Will Eisner"
Illustrated by "Will Eisner"
Actually Written and Illustrated by others because Eisner was in the war. These include Manly Wade Wellman and William Woolfolk for scripts and Jack Cole and Lou Fine for art.
DC

I'm starting this one off with a rant.

Will Eisner was drafted into the army, and after last volumes's stories, was not able to write or draw the Spirit. This did not stop the series, of course, which was popular. Others wrote and drew it under Eisner's byline.

DC is well aware of this, but they refuse to credit the stories in the actual book properly. I don't know if this is because they were afraid to lose sales, had an agreement with Eisner not to do it, or just didn't want to pay royalties. Regardless, it was wrong and it annoys me. DC is good enough to list some of the creators on their website and the back cover, but again, they don't give individual credit, and in at least one case, it's clear it was drawn by another artist because he signed the end of comic!

I realize the 1940s were a different time, and even credits into the 1970s can be hard to nail down. But when Ron Goulart writes your introduction and calls attention to the subbing, I think a little work to properly identify who did what would have been helpful.

Okay, I'm done ranting about this slight. How good is the Spirit in the hands of others?

The answer is: Pretty darned good.

Though the visuals are a bit less experimental and the issues given more of a black and white feel, these episodes in the Spirit's life are so close to Eisner in look and feel that if you were only casually glancing at them, it would be rather easy to mistake them for his work. I'm sure that was intentional. The folks working on these issues were art assistants for Eisner in the first place, and probably helped out here and there before Uncle Sam became their boss's boss.

The devil is in the details, however. Note that the opening splash pages, with a few notable exceptions, are much more straightforward. If you see an off-kilter hat, that's apparently the work of Lou Fine. Are people bending a bit more than they should or leaning at exaggerated angles? I'm guessing you're seeing Jack Cole at the helm. (The "Nazi Invasion" story has a lot of this, for instance. Anyone know who drew it for sure?) Another artist draws the Spirit with just a bit too broad of a back, replacing Eisner's lanky hero with one who looked more like a body builder.

There are changes in the writing as well. We only get a few experimental stories, and they are far clumsier than when Eisner does it. At times, Denny Colt is more like Dick Tracy, and his outlaw status seems to be there only as a pretense. (He even dines publicly with the mayor at one point.) Gone are the far-flung genre stories--we're safely in the realm of beating up criminals and spies, with only a few exceptions that tend to keep the action bound squarely in and around the city. While the keepers of the Spirit name did a good job making sure we had solid action comics, and have nothing to be ashamed of in terms of the plots, they definitely were not working to put the boundaries of the medium, at least not here.

On the other hand, there's some positive things to come out of missing Eisner. Women, for instance, get a better hand here. Ellen may not be competent, but at least she's not a shrew. Similarly, while most of the women the Spirit meets are both attracted to him and unable to beat his manly smarts, I don't feel like they're shown in quite as bad a light.

The case of Ebony here is a bit trickier. On the one hand, he's still comic relief that's clearly racially motivated. He's scared of ghosts, his friends are money-hungry, and he boasts in a way that seems designed to show he's inferior to the Spirit. Especially when he's with other African American characters, I want to wince.

On the other hand, Ebony frequently aids in the cases and is at least as competent as Dolan, the Police Commissioner. In fact, Dolan and Ebony are both the butt of the Spirit's jokes. A lot of times it seems like Ebony is just filling the role of sidekick as defined by the 1940s: Go off, get into trouble, and get rescued. In that way, he's not a lot different from Aqualad. I'm left not quite sure what to think in terms of how to deal with Ebony and his portrayal here. I guess the best thing to say is that if you can tolerate how Eisner wrote him, you'll be okay here.

There are definitely some clunkers in here, the ghost story being by far the worst of the bunch, but any of the other volumes so far have tales that just don't hold up. I think that's true of any collection of any long-running comic. Not every Peanuts was a winner, after all. The fun is in getting to see the best stories in context. That's true here as well, and it's doubly true as we watch others try to stay in Eisner's shadow.

The Spirit Archives aren't for everyone, and if you're just a fan of Eisner, these next few trades are probably skippable. However, if you are a fan of classic comics, especially Jack Cole, these war years collections are definitely worth seeking out. But DC: If/when you reprint these, do the right thing--get the credits where they belong, inside the binding. Comics fans will thank you for it.

Yotsuba&! Volume 4

Written by Kiyohiko Azuma
Illustrated by Kiyohiko Azuma
Yen Press

Summer is starting to fade away, but nothing can make Yotsuba's enthusiasm dim! Watch as she challenges her father to "bad mitten", tries to catch fish Ernie-style, offers counseling on love, and even starts a newspaper. As her manic energy rushes her from one project to another, can anyone keep up?

I'm going to be really sad when I catch up with Yen Press's editions of this amazing series, because picking one up always fills me with wonder as I scan the table of contents to see what kind of adventures our green-haired little imp is going to have this time around. I was particularly amused by the opening sequence, as Yotsuba's adventures with the racket were pretty similar to my own back when I was little. I also love how her father and Jumbo still exude playful energy, even though they're supposed to be too old for that sort of thing now. Their bantering and sometimes off-the-cuff overly truthful remarks (particularly Jumbo in relation to Miura) do a lot to show that Yotsuba isn't the only source of comedy in the series.

She is, however, the focal point, and drives whatever other antics occur in each chapter. Her desire to help Fuka leads to all sorts of mischief when Asagi gets involved, for instance. I love that her idea of a newspaper only consists of one page, reminding me that I'm pretty sure all of us made something similar once upon a time. As with her attempts to fish, desire to control the grocery cart, and other little things, Yotsuba's reaction to the world is probably only just a bit exaggerated from the way we tried to grow up.

That's a big part of the charm of the series as it goes on. We've moved on a bit from funny set pieces and really funny misunderstandings for Yotsuba. She's now more of an avatar for everyone's childhood--if we'd had parents and neighbors who were so forgiving! It's a change that allows the jokes to flow more naturally, I think. Yotsuba can be really funny just by inhabiting her world; there's no need to force her into funny situations.

I'm not sure where they came from, but Azuma does return to the 4-panel format of Azumanga Daioh with a section called "Yotsuba & Four-Panel Manga," which shows how the strip might work if it was in a newspaper. They're funny enough, but I prefer the longer stories. It did amuse me that the title breaks the 4th wall while Yotsuba breaks a window.

Though I'd read Yotsuba regardless of the art, I love the way Azuma uses simple cartoon techniques to help drive the comedy. The cat-eyes that Yotsuba and others feature when they're angry or determined often make me laugh, and though the facial expressions often are simple, they carry a lot of power in a few lines. I'm always able to tell what one of the cast is thinking, just by looking at how they are drawn. My only complaint, and it's a minor one, is that I don't always think that Azuma keeps the characters looking different enough to know who it is immediately. I mistook Fuka's mom for Asagi's friend a few times as a result. Fortunately, this doesn't hurt the jokes, but I do wish we'd get more clothing cues.

You can't go wrong reading Yotsuba&!, one of the best manga I've ever read. It's easy to pick up the series anywhere, but I strongly urge you to start reading from volume one right away. You'll be glad you did!

Echo Volume 3

Written by Terry Moore
Illustrated by Terry Moore
Abstract Studios

Things get worse for Julie as the mysterious alloy that's forming an ever-closer relation to her body starts to become a danger even in defense. As she tries to get the bottom of things, a most unlikely source may provide her with the answers she needs.

Meanwhile, the backers of the project that made the suit ramp up their efforts to get back what's theirs, at any cost. With family in the line of fire, can Julie manage to save herself--and maybe even the world, too?

The further I read into Echo, the more I like it. I still think the first trade was rather weak, but these last two collections of issues have more than made up for it. (That's why I generally make it a rule to give anything well-regarded several trades to hook me.) Moore is ramping up the action with every issue, and his ability to show that action on the page is improving as well. With this set of issues, we're seeing less of the static Moore character poses and more actual action.

I also like the way that the suit is being presented as doing more than it appeared on first blush. It gives the story a few extra wrinkles, though we're still in pretty standard woman versus evil corporation mode. The difference for me is that while the first trade felt extremely paint by numbers, we are now seeing the usually excellent More character work take this idea and run with it. That's what I was looking for right away, and didn't get. Now that it's here, I'm ready to enjoy this ride for as long as it lasts.

Julie, Dillon, and Ivy are also starting to get their own, distinct personalities. They started off feeling too much like people from Strangers in Paradise, but now they have their own agendas and ideas, though the strange relationship angle still seems to be hanging around. (I can't help but keep David-Katchoo-Francine in the back of my mind when thinking of Dillon-Julie-Annie and how the revelations in this trade will play out.) A big part of this is Ivy, the wild card of the story that may or may not want to help Julie solve her problem. Because our three (four?) main characters are all working at cross purposes, I see a lot of room for conflict and interesting storytelling, and that, more than an original plot, is what I look for in a story.

I don't want to give away too much, but I thought the revelations about what the suit was capable of was a nice twist that I wasn't expecting. It makes sense that a corporation might not want to deal with the ramifications that are hinted at here, and gives a logical reason for the over-the-top reactions in relation to the original destruction of the suit and the desire to get it back. On the negative side, it does give us several one-dimensional bad guys, and I wish they had a little more depth. It would not surprise me one bit, however, if we get that depth soon.

Most of this volume is still focused on the chasing of Julie, both by Ivy and later by the folks at Henri. It's not all cat and mouse, however, as we also get the background on the suit I mentioned above, and biker Dan Backer is trying to learn the truth of what killed his friends. Plus, Julie's sister gets some extended scenes that are both funny and heartbreaking. I like the way that Moore weaves in little details about all the supporting players without it feeling forced or holding back the main story. These little vignettes look like they're going somewhere, and seeing how they play out over the next several trades is going to be fun.

Though the panel structure is improving, telling such a vivid action tale is not Moore's artistic strength. He's still a bit too stiff when things are exploding and I don't think you'd ever describe the movement of his characters as fluid. That's more noticeable here because of the story. I also question why we need to have so many revealing moments, but since Moore draws woman tastefully, it's not as big of a problem as it could be. I really do like that Moore can draw women who are both extremely attractive and also look normal.

Almost all of us have read a story like Echo before. However, the longer this story goes on, the more Terry Moore adds his character touches to it and makes it a compelling read. We have just enough mystery to go with the personal angst to make it a great read. If you weren't sure after the first volume, stick with it. I know I'm glad I did. I can't wait to read more of this story when the fourth trade is released. It's definitely on my watch list going forward.

Barefoot Gen Volume 7

Written by Keiji Nakazawa
Illustrated by Keiji Nakazawa
Last Gasp

Gen tries hard to get the truth out there, but doesn't factor on the personal risk involved when you cross the powers that be in the United States Armed Forces. While always trying to find a way to keep on living, Gen sees death touch him in a very personal way again and again. He's been strong so far, but will this latest series of setbacks be too much?

This was the first volume of this ongoing series that I was actually a bit disappointed with. After spending a lot of time making sure that there was a story to go along with the message in the past few trades, this time around, we are back to the premise of having things happen to Gen so that Nakazawa can comment on them. There are several points in the story which are extremely clunky as a result, and they hurt the flow of the narrative.

What's worse is that in the case of reading excerpts from Hirayama's book, we are only getting another reprise of the same horrors that Gen has already experienced or heard about first-hand. I am not discounting the terrible things, as the point of this manga is to serve as a warning against ever dropping another bomb, not to entertain me. But bringing things to a dead halt to recap what I've already read a few times now did not seem to me to be the best way to go, especially when the narrative becomes extremely preachy.

If you're reading this far into Barefoot Gen, you don't need hit over the head with the abomination of the atomic bomb, and that's what it felt like. Using Mr. Pak as a Deus ex Machina doesn't help this any, and his inclusion in this volume made him feel less like a character (as he was in the past) and more like an non-player character in a video game.

Things are better when Nakazawa moves into newer ground, such as the boys narrowly escaping being used as spies in the Korean War or when Koji returns to tell of his failure, which I predicted back when he left. These incidents continue to tell the story of the aftermath of war, which is what I think we should be focusing on at this point. They're still a bit too pat, however, as Nakazawa maneuvers his characters to make sure we learn everything.

The most powerful moments, however, are when Gen struggles against all odds to keep going. He has quite a few setbacks this time, from personal peril to dealing with death. At one point, it seems he can't handle it anymore, and who could blame him? He's the only one that it seems the bomb did not severely damage, forced to watch everyone around him crumble to dust, not even leaving a bone behind. Gen manages, however, because the only way to beat the bomb, to show the Japanese and American leaders that ordinary people cannot be defeated, is to survive.

It's that part of the narrative that is so compelling, and the one I wish Nakazawa would stress rather than going back to the well of horror so many times. By this point, we get what terrible things can happen. Now I want the story to be about how Gen and his friends manage in a world that wants to forget them. Because if we ever forget, if we ever lose sight of the cost, we'll be back to using ever more terrible bombs in no time. Hell, we're probably there already.

I didn't like this volume of Barefoot Gen as much as the past few, but that doesn't mean this is a bad series. Far from it. I think everyone should read this story from start to finish, as it makes you think twice about some of the ideas you may have had in your head, either about World War II, American foreign policy, or just the idea of warfare in general. As I said above, we must never forget. Reading stories like Barefoot Gen will help us remember.

Planetary Volume 1

Written by Warren Ellis
Illustrated by John Cassaday
Wildstorm

Elijah Snow is a man of his time--literally. Having lived the entire length of the 20th Century, he sits at the edge of the millennium a broken old coot drinking terrible coffee in an old diner. For whatever reason, he's a destroyed man in a world that's crumbling, bit by bit.

Enter Jakita Wagner and an organization built to explore the mysteries of the world, bit by bit. They've got funding and offices and lots to do. When Snow agrees to be part of the plan, he's about to start digging around where others fear to tread. He's going Planetary.

I've spent some time this year revisiting old favorites, and with the release of the 4th and final volume of this series, I felt I had to go back and do a re-read. I can't think of a Warren Ellis comics I didn't like, and this pairing with one of my favorite artists, John Cassaday, is high on my list of favorites.

From start to finish, this first volume has everything that makes a Warren Ellis comic so good. We have cool characters, a concept that feels original (even if it may not be), lots of pseudo-science that might just work, a heartless villain, familiar riffs given new life, and of course, the trademark foul mouth of just about anything non-code that Ellis puts to paper.

Let's start with the characters. Snow is a man who acts like he knows far more than he'd admitting to, and that confidence grows with each adventure. He's old, so he gets to be Ellis's snarky mouthpiece about modern culture, humanity in general, and of course the absurdity of the situations we see in the comic. Jakita is a strong-willed woman who gets high off action and takes no crap from anyone. The Drummer is a sarcastic, possibly drug-addled slacker who wants to look for newer and better technology to interface with, giving us a pretty good fetish to play with for comedy. Add in the side characters who all have the jaded attitude that makes Ellis comics sing, and you're in for a good outing no matter what the story.

But oh! These stories! Ellis uses Planetary to riff on pulp novels, Hong Kong action flicks, Godzilla, and the Fantastic Four, just to name a few ideas that are either skewered or homaged, sometimes at the same time. When you turn the page and see what Ellis is doing with the idea you figured out a few pages back, it's often time to just stop reading and admire a master at work. Ellis's references never feel ham-handed or forced. They fit right in to whatever narrative he's going for, whether it's mystic archaeology (as in this case), hardboiled detective fiction (Fell), or an insane romp through the Marvel Universe (Nextwave).

I remember being amazed by the things Ellis fit into Planetary the first time I read it. They don't get any less spectacular in a second reading. When Snow faces off against the main villains of the piece, the thought of how others might treat their new powers--not everyone wants to help humanity--is treated in such a way that while I'm sure I've seen it before, Ellis makes me think he's the first one to do it. When you see how he starts to link things together, you'll be impressed, as the disparate parts start to come together by the end, setting up plans for the even more complex stories to come.

Even when Ellis is hinting at the obvious (there's an evil version of the JLA early on), you'll find it feels like a cool easter egg rather than a fanboy moment. About the only other series I can think of that has the same idea is Alan Moore's Top Ten. But while Top Ten is a restrained look at dealing with crime in a superheroes-only world, Planetary is in your face about the idea that if there was true power in this world, it wouldn't want to share with you. For whatever reason, Elijah Snow does. It's a question that haunts this first volume and drifts into the stories to come.

I'd have loved Planetary regardless of the artist, but John Cassaday knocks this one out of the park. He draws whatever Ellis comes up with, and can make a familiar set of heroes just as easily as he can show the essence of ghosts in a jar or the representation of a set of thousands of different worlds coming together at a nexus point. Each page has a level of detail rare in comics these days. You can see wrinkles on the characters' faces, the lines in their teeth, and the paneling in the windows of a space ship. I know we'd have fewer comics if everyone worked like this, but it would be worth it. Cassaday is one of the best artists working today, and his efforts on Planetary are outstanding.

Needless to say, I like Planetary. It's one of the best comic series I've ever read, and it has all the little touches to show what a good comic can do. We have superpowers and super science, but at the end of the day, it's about the characters and the plot. Ellis gets that it takes more than capes to make for a good comic. I wish others would follow his lead more often, but I'll take what I can get when I can get it. If you haven't tried Planetary yet, I strongly urge you to do so right away. You'll be glad you did.