An Adventure with Rohan at the Louvre

Rohan at the Louvre by Hirohiko Araki, is another in the Louvre Editions published in English by NBM Comics Lit.

As a teen, Rohan meets a young soon-to-be divorcée. She tells him a story about a cursed painting, rumored to be at the Louvre, before she mysteriously disappears one night.

Fast-forward ten years later when Rohan visits Paris to seek out this painting. The work is hidden away in a forgotten storage area—for good reason.

Those familiar with Hirohiko Araki’s work will recognize Rohan from the shonen manga Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure series. Like that series, Araki, employs his unconventional color schemes here. The scenes in Japan are depicted in yellow tones while those in Paris are predominately pink and blue. His JoJo-dachi style features exaggeratedly lean bodies with beautiful features, viewed from dramatic angles.

A word of warning: Araki’s work is influenced by his love of horror movies; the scenes depicting the painting’s curse are rather violent in nature.

The only problem I had with this story was, as a character from another series, Rohan’s power of being able to read people like a book, both figuratively and literally, seems out of place in a story about an art museum.

That said, Rohan at the Louvre is an engaging story full of mystery and intrigue.

Persia Blues: Love and War Strikes the Right Chord

Today (December 1, 2015) Persia Blues: Love and War, comes out. It is the second of a three volume series, by Dora Naraghi and Brent Bowman.

The Persia Blues series is the story of a strong-willed young Iranian woman, Minoo Shirazi. Well, actually, it is two stories.

In one, Minoo is a modern, post-Revolution woman whose father has arranged for her to attend graduate school in the US. In the other, she is an adventurer in ancient Persia on a quest to save Persepolis from the Zoroastrian destructive spirit, Ahriman.

Brent Bowman uses a stark black ink line drawing to depict the modern world. He brings his ancient world to life through what looks to be at first glance, detailed pencil shading.

The two worlds also differ in their story telling techniques. The ancient world moves forward chronologically; Minoo has just found her long-lost mother, while the modern world uses flashbacks to reveal her struggle with losing her mother to cancer.

In either world, she is caught between her dreams and the expectations of her family and society as one Minoo copes with feelings of helplessness; the other, with deja vu.

Stargazing Dog Is Looking Up

The theme for this month is “dog days of summer.” Yes, I am fully aware that the term refers to the position of the “Dog Star,” but you try to find graphic novels about Sirius. Therefore, I will start with the appropriately named Stargazing Dog.

This two-part manga by Takashi Murakami contains the title story, Stargazing Dog and its sequel, Sunflowers, published in English by NBM Publishing.

The book begins with the discovery of a man’s body, and that of his dog, Happie, in their car. The first story explains how they got there–from the dog’s point of view. The sequel is told from the perspective of a young social worker, Mr. Okutsu, as he tries to identify the man’s remains in order to return them to the family.

Now, after that description you may be thinking this is a somber, depressing story. Quite the contrary.

It is a heart-warming story about the devotion of dogs, both Happie and Mr. Okutsu’s. They don’t understand why their humans’ lives take the turns they do. They just want to come along for the ride. So be warned, for those who well-up with stories of unconditional love and devotion, this is a tear-jerker.

Black and white illustration with grayscale “colorization” include some manga iconography; sounds are written in Japanese with English translations in the margins. The dogs are drawn to be so adorable and trusting that it is hard not to fall in love with them.

Listening to Fallen Words

I decided to round out Asia Month with a book by an alternative manga pioneer, whom we lost earlier this year.

Fallen Words by Yoshihiro Tatsumi, is a collection of short stories inspired by the Japanese oral storytelling tradition of rakugo or “fallen words,” hence the name.

Like the folktales they are based on, these eight morality tales take place during the Edo period, complete with traditional attire, hair-styles, and stereotypes; the men are foolish, and the women cunning and/or spiteful. And each story has a punchline that, for the most part, the reader doesn’t see coming.

The tales are drawn in Tatsumi’s pioneering gekiga manga, considered a darker, more realistic style of cartooning. His clean-line drawings employ universally understandable facial expressions and body language to convey emotion, not the culturally-specific iconography of mainstream manga.

In Fallen Words, Tatsumi shows these two seemingly dissimilar storytelling forms: rakugo (that relies on vocal pitch and intonation) and gekiga (that has no sound) can work together. He recreates audio tone with graphic art.

Perhaps it is my love of morality tales, or Yoshihiro Tatsumi’s use of universally comprehensible imagery that allows me to appreciate this early master of Japanese alternative comics.

Saving Books with Library Wars

What is a review of Asian graphic novels without manga? Library Wars, a shojo manga serial illustrated by Kiiro Yumi, based on the novel by Hiro Arikawa, is actually the first manga I have ever read.

I had avoided the genre because, quite frankly, I was unfamiliar with the iconography and with all the shelves and shelves of manga at the library, the thought of finding something I would like was overwhelming. Fortunately, I came across Library Wars and thought the subject of fighting censorship would be appropriate.

The illustrations and iconography are typical mainstream manga: doe-eyed girls, handsome men; with the amount of realism varying with the purpose of each panel.

Library Wars takes place in the near future. There is a battle escalating between the Media Betterment Committee (MBC), which seeks to censor material deemed unsuitable for society, and the libraries that want to ensure the public has unfettered access to their collections.

Iku Kasahara joins the library defense force because she wants to be just like her “prince,” the Library Defense Force Sergeant who saved her and her favorite book from an MBC raid when she was in high school. She has no idea who this mystery man is, but it is pretty obvious to the reader that he is Instructor Dojo, who is making basic training a living hell for her.

In one sense, she hates him for all the special attention she gets; in another, she respects him for his dedication and professionalism. The more he pushes her, the more she proves her mettle. As a result, she becomes the first woman recruited for the elite Library Task Force.

It is not unexpected that her hatred for Dojo becomes love over the course of the series (I’ve read through volume 12); however, the evolution of that love sends a disturbing mixed message to young women.

In later volumes, Iku stops holding her own against the boys and starts doing everything to impress Instructor Dojo, and he’s always there to catch her when she falls, literally–down stairs, off ladders, etc. Furthermore, all the heroic acts she performs are under-minded by her running off for a cry.

This may be a cultural clash with my Western sensibilities, but I put it out there for readers’ awareness.

That said, the first volume of Library Wars is a cute story, full of girl power and teenage fantasy, which has a number of good moments.

The Kite Runner Has Lofty Hopes

Back to Around the World Reading Challenge, 2015, May is Asia month.

I wanted to find something other than Manga, so I was pleased to find the graphic novel version of The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, who was born in Afghanistan. The illustrations are by Italians, Fabio Celoni and Mirka Andolfo.

Amir, a boy of privilege growing up in Shah-era Afghanistan, witnesses the rape of his best friend, Hassan, who is the son of his family’s servant. Racked with guilt for not having stopped it, Amir can’t even stand to be around Hassan. Soon afterwards, the Soviets take Kabul and Amir and his father flee to the US. Many years later, Amir returns to Afghanistan to rescue Hassan’s orphaned son.

The abridged nature of the graphic novel (128 pages vs 372 for the paperback), truncates time-lines and skips important insights into characters’ personalities and motivations. For example, Assef, the rapist, comes across as just a bully; not the neo-Nazi, sociopath he really is.

While the dialogue follows the book (for the most part) for some strange reason a key foreshadowing line is omitted. Without it, a climactic scene loses much of its significance.

Ultimately, the graphic novel version of The Kite Runner suffers from the same problems as “comic book” versions of classic literature: being little more than a detailed synopsis with emphasis on the dramatic moments.

I will say it is beautifully drawn. Celoni and Andolfo transition from vibrant colors of pre-Soviet Afghanistan to a bleaker palette when Amir returns to a country ravaged by war and Taliban-rule.

To experience what makes The Kite Runner a remarkable story, read the book. But for those who only want to know what happens, this graphic novel is a luscious way to do just that.