Written and drawn by Shuzo Oshimi
Published by Vertical Inc

It seems to be a pretty common consensus that middle school sucks. It’s a
time in which a lot of things change, when you start to come in to who you are
and figure out what you enjoy and start to get the vaguest inklings of what you
want. It is before you know what is normal, and start to question if you are
(even though you’re pretty sure you’re not and that funny feeling you get sometimes
or all those stupid pimples make you a freak). Coming of age is a terrifying
thing, no matter who you are, or where you’re from.
The Flowers of Evil is a bildungsroman in the vein of Palahniuk,
exploring self-imposed isolation as well as the societal boundaries of normal
and perverse during an emotionally intense time in one’s life, and it does so
in a way that is both intellectually and emotionally engaging.
A quiet
middle school boy steals his crush’s gym clothes in a fit of emotion, but he is
seen by Nakamura, the strange (and somewhat sadistic) girl from his class. She
forces him to sign a contract guaranteeing their friendship, threatening to
tell his secret should he ever break it. The story is ultimately
about loneliness, that singular, sad person who is just a little too awkward, a
little too different to make friends easily, and it is meaningful for this
reason. Oshimi’s art is excellent – I never found myself confused as to who was
who, nor was I ever unclear on what was happening in the story. In particular,
I was blown away by his panel layouts. There were several times in the eleven
volume series that I found myself simply fascinated by his creative usage of
panels and page.
It is often
difficult to force oneself to consider not only the circumstances, but personality
of someone else. It’s hard to accept that another person’s reality is extremely
different from our own, that what they see and what they think will never be
exactly the same as what you see and think. Nakamura is a lonely girl, sad and
strange. When she is presented with the possibility that she is not alone, that
Kasuga is an individual who is unlike the rest of the placated shitbugs that
surround her, and may be as different as she is, she takes full advantage of
the chance (and him) to finally have a friend. She gets her hopes up, she
thinks she may have found what she needed. What both she and Kasuga find,
though, is not what either of them expect. It is this dive into the nature of
solitude, feeling and filling that need to have someone else who is like you, as
well as the reality/relatability of Nakamura’s character, that makes The
Flowers of Evil such a powerful book.
This
is not a manga for everyone. I, personally, loved it. But there are several
elements that may turn some people off. The nature and point of the story,
combined with the age of the characters as well as the implied (but never
explicit) sexuality and perversion, may make this an uncomfortable read for
some. However, I feel
The Flowers of Evil
tackles a topic that needs to be discussed, and does so in a way that is
tasteful and engaging. If you can appreciate a coming of age story that
actively discusses all of the weird stuff that happens at that time (in a
rather Palahniuk-esque way), then
The
Flowers of Evil should be in your to-read stack now.