Review: Bakuman volumes 14-15

In volume 14 Bakuman. has blundered further into what always has been nefarious territory for the underdog shounen sports ilk: what happens if the protagonist in the question is no longer an underdog? Bakuman. has so far handled the duo's rivals well, with the right touches of comic and human, making them the actual interesting characters in the series, more so than Takagi and Mashiro. But then it decides to introduce a true villain, new mangaka Nanamine who has a strange creative process. He culls opinions from the Internet to determine the plot of his manga, a "dark," barely suitable for Jump, fearsome project.

The problems this little twist reveals of Bakuman. are myriads. First of all, Bakuman. has never been halfway decent with its manga within the manga, and has largely avoided showing this fault by offering very quick peeks. The problem is that the some-fifteen pages provided for Nanamine's new manga are painfully mediocre: there's clumsy exposition and rushed pacing and exaggerated expressions almost right out of 80s shoujo manga. (There is also the matter of conflating attractiveness with moral integrity, but perhaps that's only par for the course.) These pages supposedly demonstrate Nanamine's talents and intelligence--his only saving grace from the egomaniac he proves to be in later chapters--but if this is Bakuman.'s showing not telling, I'd rather it just tells.

The second problem this development makes devastatingly clear is that Bakuman. has said very little of value about manga and about writing, despite being a manga about manga. It has paid lip service to perseverance and creativity, to be sure, but it falters in harrier conversations like the validity of writing by committee and really, I mean really, challenging the publishers. If I have it right, in fact, the major conflict has been the mangaka wanting to work themselves to death and the editors not enabling that behavior. Anyway, both Ashirogi and the writing team of Bakuman. itself are two-person collaborations, plus some odd assistants, but what of constructing the plot by consulting with 50 different egos with a shaky driver seat? The project falls apart. Bakuman. makes it clear that the collaboration has been able to yield positive results, but is the idea inherently self-destructive, or is it Nanamine's own failing? It seems curious that by-committee creative process comes into so much scrutiny considering doujinshi's long tradition of writing circles and Bakuman.'s good track record with mangaka's contribution to each other's work.

Third problem: Bakuman's touch and go character work. On the one hand Bakuman. has a number of amusing sidekicks and rivals, on the other, there's the milquetoast protagonists and the blatant archetypes. It's clear, you know, that Mashiro and Takagi are supposed to be the readers' ciphers--they're in high school, they're mild-mannered boys, bam, half the demographic of Shounen Jump. The trade-off is perennial: There has to be absolutely nothing spectacular about them for it to be an effective cipher, ergo, no character work.

But, you may interject, there's that confession Mashiro made to Azuki in the first chapter. Wasn't that adorable? Wasn't that sweet what absolute romantics they are? Actually, it was something I hoped Bakuman. would grow out of. Think about it, the relationship that would be at the heart of the story has no foundation, no reason, and no chemistry--and that's supposed to be Mashiro's motivation! The only thing audacious about that first chapter is how lazy the writing is.

But, you may protest, Mashiro and Takagi are totally not cardboard stand-ins like those ecchi guys. Oh yeah? They are high school boys who want to write a manga instead of getting laid. Can't draw? You're the Takagi? Can't write? You're the Mashiro. Takagi and Mashiro are stripped of specifics to the point of having no personality. Consider this: can you name anything they do, not things that happen to them, what they do, that showcase their personality? IN FACT, how does any of their backstory affect their creative decisions? All of their output is what high school boys think would be dark and edgy to write about.

Dark-and-edgy in quotation marks is all the Ashirogi brand ever was. The manga inside the manga are premises, not real stories. Their first ever project was about how you can sell your mind for money: ooh, corruption, dark! Ooh, dystopia! Can you actually tell me what's interesting about the moral quandaries we're presented with here? Can you even identify those moral quandaries? Their magnum opus was about a disaffected but observant boy?!?!?! What the fuck how--how can you possibly cater more to your demographics? And to bring it back to these volumes, Nanamine's new manga is a Battle Royale-inspired fantasy where an omnipresent force kills schoolchildren who lie? The people who lie just happen to be the bullies and the hypocritical jerks? And the "extreme and interesting" ideas about a boy not wanting to die a virgin so he forces a girl into the bathroom? They're just textbook definition of dark-and-edgy tryhard. "Morally ambiguous, psychological battle manga"? "Lays bare man's ugliness"? Blergh, it's a contrived situation, stupid. Even Takagi said it, there's little to none character work, and honestly, if you want to say something grand about human nature, you have to begin with something specific. Specific characters, with specific circumstances. Ashirogi gave the manga a 3 out of five for "Originality and Characterization," and 5 for story. The problem is that those are not separate categories, and if they are, characterization should be all that matters.

Sigh. Ashirogi didn't identify the real reason why Classroom is unpublishable in the end. It's not that the main character dies, it's that students have been dropping like flies since the first pages without any meditation on the story's part on their death. It's that reading it, I feel dirty, because what are readers but the omnipresent voice delivering death sentences from a box from high above? Bakuman. tries to make the story intellectual but behind it, there's an obvious and heinous sadistic glee that is the furthest thing from an earnest investigation into human nature.

Why was it sadistic? Many manga and shows I like kill characters all the time. The difference is they make us care about the characters first. In Nanamine's manga the teacher who dies first wants to kill his student so that he is the last one standing. The class president who dies shortly after is pathetic and manipulative and looks like a frog. Their deaths are meaningless in a way that deaths shouldn't be. It's gauche. It's clumsy. It borders on sociopathic. It's also creatively bankrupt.

Look, if you want a truly non-mainstream, anti-Jump manga, you write about loneliness and depression, not this. If you want to make a statement about human nature, you write a really human character in the freaking first place. Characterization is the cornerstone of writing and it's only from the specific and the intimate that you can say something universal, you goddamn asshole. Like, the fact that these new writers become younger and younger, starting out at 15 and 16 and shit, it's not inspiring or reassuring. It just means that they're more likely to be clueless manchildren with no empathy. Bakuman. certainly is portraying one such asshole, why doesn't it see sheer immaturity and lack of life experience and consequently anything meaningful to say as part of the issue?

Time stamp: I wrote a huge part of this post back in--I don't know, back when Bakuman. hasn't ended its run yet. I've since finished reading the manga and Jesus fucking Christ, all the the back half is mired in this unfortunate bullshit about writing the best manga in the world, OMG. That's not the poi--you can't even do it like that--I can't even--you gauge it by volume sales WTF THAT'S NOT HOW YOU DO IT. Okay it's true that many of the best manga were also the most popular in their time, like Touch, or Fullmetal Alchemist, but keep in mind that One Piece outsells both of them combined and that Detective Conan is on its last, practically nonexistent creative leg. But this is not a conversation you're even having, so, yeah.

And I should have known, honestly, because in the Ashirogi versus Nizuma Eiji competition what other metrics were they going to use? I had hoped they would come into a realization in the course of it, but you know, sigh. This is really the fundamental problem of running a manga about manga writing on Shounen Jump, because even as Bakuman. attempts to challenge what was okay for the magazine to print, it can't help but chronicle a traditional shounen rivalry in the middle of itself--a rivalry that is not at all fit for its subject matter, and Bakuman.,obviously out of its depth, finally resorts to traditional tropes to handle the non-traditional rivalry. Which is a fucking terrible idea. Instead of confidently making a statement about writing, Bakuman. betrays an insecurity about its own identity: What does it mean that I am published on Shounen Jump? Am I dark and edgy enough? Important enough? How on Earth do I judge that? Does my having zero life experience impede my ability to write a meaningful relationship?

(Okay that last one was--whatever.)

Skinnydipping in Anime: Detective Conan: Private Eye in the Distant Sea

Let’s get it out of the way that Detective Conan: Private Eye in the Distant Sea fails as a mystery, fails at telling a satisfactory, cohesive story, and badly needs some subtlety—any subtlety! All of which are side effects, I suppose, of being a fan service and propaganda delivery vehicle.

Mission number one of this movie: getting everyone you know some screen time, goddammit, no matter how tacked on these lumps of narrative have to be. Sonoko and the 1B detectives are the most egregious, because they don’t even contribute anything to the “plot,” but the way in which the movie insinuates Heiji and Kazuha into the story is more annoying. Yes, they do catch a bad guy—but it’s in a movie that has not one, not two, but three bad guys, at least two of which are totally unnecessary. The Heiji and Kazuha subplot is emblematic of how this kind of fan service destroys coherency: because everyone has to do something, the movie becomes convoluted, diluting any focus on any character. The emotional through line—in which Shinichi promises that he would be able to find Ran anywhere, and lo and behold, she ends up needing him to rescue her—is introduced half way through in a half-hearted attempt to lend the movie emotional gravitas. It doesn’t tie to the central mystery or any kind of theme, and kind of insults viewers’ intelligence in suggesting that Ran can possibly die and trying to wring some drama out of that tension. Another case of “you didn’t earn this” is Kazuha crying at the end. Crying is catharsis. Traipsing through Osaka solving puzzles and dodging bullets doesn’t earn catharsis.

For much of the same reason, Detective Conan: Private Eye in the Distant Sea is not an effective mystery. Look, the best Gosho Aoyama mysteries all have a hook and are clearly laid out. A favorite story I go back to every time is when seven detectives are gathered to solve a riddle inside a castle—traditional to be sure, but man, the atmosphere in it is incredible. It’s the closest Detective Conan has come to a thriller. In an Agatha Christie And Then There Were None kind of way, the seven detectives are all suspects, distrust each other, and kill off each other as the culprit watches, only better than Agatha because there’s dried blood between the playing cards, a car explosion, and a family crest that’s a cross between a crooked nosed man and a bird. Aaanyway, other Detective Conan stories all define their suspects and have a central conceit—locked room murder is a perennial favorite. Ones that feature a red herring, as this movie does, always revolve around a small and insignificant detail that the obvious solution doesn’t necessarily explain. The mysteries may seem complicated, but the goal is often very well defined: explain this thing, using details that we may not have drawn attention to. A lot of what makes up mysteries is misdirection.

Detective Conan: Private Eye in the Distant Sea isn't complicated; it’s convoluted and painfully straightforward, not understanding that mysteries are about misdirection. It draws attention to every little detail and they always come back like this intricate interlocking puzzle, and it’s convoluted not because every piece works together toward some nebulous conclusion—they don’t—it’s convoluted because there are so many mini-puzzles that do not cohere to a unifying theme. It lacks a good hook. It lacks a clear goal. The mini-puzzles are superfluous and purposeless. The culprit isn't even introduced in the first act.

I can’t deny, though, that the movie has some pretty entertaining moments, all of which, of course, are completely unintentional. Part of it is my having seen the movie on a Japan Airline flight in English subtitle; part of it is the dumb-as-a-box-of-oceanic-rocks terrorist plot, in which a “foreign country” tries to steal military secret from a top security vessel. I don’t know whether China or the US was in the original Japanese script or what, but have some backbone, dude. Speaking of, this movie immediately shoots up on the Top Ten Hilariously Pro-Military Propaganda Movies of All Time. It features the police and the Self Defense Force working together like a big happy family. It lavishes on dorky technical specs of the Aegis—which, I guess my mentioning the ship by name means that it works. I watched slack-jawed as credits rolled over cheesy, loving, live-action shots of the ship out at sea, with pelicans flying and everything. It’s an atrocity to subtlety. It’s great.

Also, for those who care which I know are depressingly not a whole lot, Detective Conan: Private Eye in the Distant Sea is kind of weirdly sexist. In the first act, Conan becomes suspicious of a female SDF officer because women don’t make up a ton of the SDF, so the chances of seeing one in the wild are not great. Look, fucker, even if women make up only one percent of the SDF or something, the chances of no one seeing a female SDF officer are still zero.

Extremely Short Take, Another Take: Black Butler

Oh my God stop me, Christmas is somehow making me vindictive. I.e., one sure way to bring out my Monday morning cranky side is by talking about Black Butler.

Title: Black Butler
Author & Artist: Yana Toboso

I first read Black Butler two years ago. I'm still reeling from the car crash.

It's not that I object to the creepy sexual undertone between a butler and his pre-pubescent master, because that would severely limit my reading materials if I were into manga at all, right guys? Right? Black Butler is merely an unholy marriage of every seedy underbelly aspect of manga. You see, the one thing that a person loathes more than the success of the things she hates is the failure of stuff she loves.

Let's analyze the premise: In Victorian England, snot-nosed brat Earl Ceil Phantomhive and his butler Sebastian look devastatingly handsome while battling the forces of evil. Except Sebastian has earned his perfect house cleaning degree (sarcastic) from devil school (metaphorical). Unadvertised/real reason anybody would read this thing: yaoi subtext that crosses age, species and gender boundaries.

Let's face it, yaoi subtext? Right up my alley. All the other trappings? Not so much. I have long detested the Gothic vein in manga, especially manga outright set in Europe, since not only do I prefer Eastern to Western aesthetics, but also because these manga have nothing in the way of substance, believing that frills and master-servant or sheltered heroine dynamic brings readers by the hordes and sustains their interests.

For the record, of course I have exceptions, after all, Fullmetal Alchemist is steampunk.

Anyway, the Victorian England settings often does disservice to the manga, because we all know how much mangaka like to research their subjects thoroughly, not taking liberties with period fashion right? Turns out that's the least of my worries.

Because Black Butler opens by establishing three things: Sebastian is perfect, all other characters beside Sebastian and Ceil are hapless, and the series is totally pointless. If I strip away the sparkles (of which there are lots,) the awkward exclamations (of which there are several too many,) and the decidedly unamusing interactions (which should be stronger since that's where you hang your hook,) the "plot" of the first chapter is thus: Sebastian wipes the floor with some martial artist. They both look the opposite of cool and the epitome of stiff human anatomy with the former posing a finishing move and the latter posing the 1000-hand crane (what, you say, what?) Sebastian proceeds to save a super important dinner (that's super important guys, Ceil is discussing children toys with a genial old man - a long-time business partner and everything) because the other servants have all chosen to simultaneously cock up. Cue exaggerated reactions all around and crude portrayal of foreigners and household servants.

Seriously, the world does not have to hang in the balance for something to have gravitas, but dear mangaka, for introduction to your characters and a simple dinner you don't need that level of melodrama. In fact, sometimes I prefer my first chapters to be non-action oriented if I was delving into the slice-of-life variety. Black Butler could be mining for dark comedy in treating dinner with life-or-death drama, but I didn't find the chapter funny in the least. It was plainly overdone. Waiter, send it back please.

Another problem is Black Butler's minor characters, in the sense that they are character traits slapped onto humanoid figures and an inconsequential echo chamber for the sheer greatness that is Sebastian. Why bother giving them names? Why not just label them the cook, the maid, because that's both easier to remember and what they ultimately amount to anyway. Their services become their identity, which, nice job of portraying Victorian England mindset.

My predictions for the following chapters, having heard so many wonderful ravings about the boys: Black Butler will attempt to adopt a "dark" tone (murder on the agenda! Unhealthy symbiotic relationships!) which will mesh well with the first chapter since evil was practically crawling underneath the surface and all. Sebastian and Ceil will engage in pseudo-sexual acts (it's not a kiss, it's mouth-to-mouth resuscitation! And butlers bridal-carry their masters all the time, et cetera.)

There is no saving grace. The art is clumsy and not nuanced; it merely ridiculously fetishizes Victorian fashion. Add that to the hopelessly objectified cardboard cut-outs of characters and the clunky storytelling, you've got my nightmare manga.

Extremely Short Takes: Ouran High School Host Club

The prudent reader will scour manga review blogs or take their sisters' recommendations before ever opening a volume. I am not that kind of reader. I am the impulsive kind of reader, and have started way more series than I have seen to the end and hey, doesn't that sound very familiar? On some occasions, after a chapter or a volume another kind of instinct kicks in, the self-preservation kind, the kind that lets me drop cold many a story. Let it never be said that I'm the masochistic kind of reader.

Hence the short takes series. These manga are for the most part so bad I remember their names or so overrated I can't forget their names. To be fair, most people admit they are guilty guilty pleasures.

No ratings, because one chapter/volume does not a series make, and I'm liable to give them all 1/10 when unsupervised.

Title: Ouran High School Host Club
Author & Artist: Bisco Hatori

One of the most frustrating thing about manga is that you can't talk about it with your non-fandom friends and most of your other fandom friends from the Harry Potter and Supernatural heydays. They awkwardly shuffle their feet and you end up talking about The Avengers or whatever Hollywood's pushing out that even vaguely appeals to women, instead. The thing is, people do read manga, they just read Ouran, and Fruits Basket, and Sailor Moon, with their nostalgia goggles firmly attached. One reason why I dub myself newtype fangirl is because I look at classics with fresh eyes. It's not my fault that I missed the gravy train, okay?, and that Ouran did not become the staple of my teenage fantasies. (That, and the fact that I've never watched Totoro.)

So my friend who has never read any other manga lent me the first volume of Ouran High School Host Club. It was my attempt at integrating myself with the general fangirl populous, i.e., the pre-yaoi crowd. They have had a good point about Glass Mask, after all.

Synopsis: A poor girl rides into a rich private high school on a scholarship. She becomes servant to a disgustingly spoiled host club after breaking their expensive vase. I read it a few years ago, no lasting impression remains, I just have the vague memories of sparkles, no negative space whatsoever - you have text where? - and these cross purposes tangents that are somehow both half-hearted and furious. I loved myself far too much to continue. Though not enough, apparently, because I have just revisited the first chapter, for time-accrued-wisdom's sake, and Ouran, why must you jump from meeting the host club to bad exposition to randomly inserted backstory to the unexpected (not really) twist. Cue bishounen archetypes, the twins, the shouta, the megane, and the jerk who's contractually bound to be there and who's actually got a chance with the girl.

It was the most cluttered, fragmented, logic-from-outerspace reading experience ever. The only reason I managed to follow the plot was because I had read the back cover synopsis. Unassisted by a summary, for the life of me I cannot tell you what happens next. Ouran assumed that readers wanted the manga to get the set-up over with and get on with the shenanigans already. It gives the vibe that the mangaka finds her own story tedious, so let's skip to the wrist-grabbing, misunderstanding-abound part. That's feeble in comparison to Mitsuru Adachi's and Akira's and GTO's (and et cetera) lovingly, patiently crafted premises. Consider Touch's first chapter, which establishes family life and a romantic triangle that's no less complicated than Ouran's harem, but doing so by sampling the careless familiarity in its characters' interaction and by sensible exposition. All in less than 30 pages.

Adding insult to injury, hearsay informs me that Ouran also demonstrates problematic treatment of women (what sexist undertone?) but even discounting that, this manga is an unapologetic, utter mess.

Why-Do-I-Do-This-to-Myself Yuri in: Strawberry Panic!

It's not my intention to pick up two shitty titles in a row, because no, I don't enjoy reading them just to provide a scathing write-up. Now, I enjoy reading scathing write-ups, but who doesn't? That's like half the reason I read reviews at all. Excuse: I saw the name being thrown around on AnineNewsNetwork, okay, and they hardly mention yuri at all. Jason Thompson and yaoi on the other hand...

Strawberry Panic!
Author: Sakurano Kimino
Artist: Namuchi Takami

Strawberry Panic! comes with an elephant-sized warning sign, because hey, strawberry and exclamation mark in the same vicinity. Manga reading tip #1: unless you are that way inclined, by which I mean of the porn persuasion, never pick up anything thing with strawberry in the title.

Manga reading tip #2: novel adaptations should by and large be avoided. Did I wiki Strawberry Panic! before diving into the manga, no, because I was still naive then, all of three hours ago. Which is to say, by the way, I am "pirating" this manga online even though Seven Seas has made it available to English speaking audience. Now, I put the quotes around pirating because I consider the practice an extended preview, and sure, if I like the manga I go out of my way to buy it, if I don't it's just like putting the volume back in the bookshelf without, you know, the trip to the bookstore or the loosening of the book bind.

Anyway, I should mention, Strawberry Panic! was adapted from a successful short story series, with its own complex cliche-ridden insular universe, and in true adaptation style, we're dropped right into it. This highlights the fact that most adaptation materials from Japan are made with only their built in audience in mind, thus they suffer from readers' lack of familiarity with the canon, i.e., the WTF factor is very very high. Strawberry Panic! is no exception, though the fact that it makes sense while setting a very fast, albeit exposition heavy, pace, should be applauded.

Stop me if this sounds familiar: free-spirited Nagisa transfers to St. Miator's Girls' Academy, an all-girl private boarding school. She meets enigmatic, popular upperclassman Shizuma who takes a sudden interest in the new student, which action causes jealousy from both her admirers and others, who too, vie for Nagisa's affection within five minutes of meeting her. Shizuma plans to compete in the Etoile tournament, in which four schools are participants, with Nagisa, because the premise really can't be completed without borrowing tropes from shounen manga too.

Thus a mishmash of tropes which is quite ingenious in the original marketing scheme for the game spin-off and surprisingly effortless to navigate through, but nonetheless hopelessly uninspired. I realize this may put me on a watch list, okay, but merely putting pubescent girls in the all-girl school context doesn't automatically make the story tantalizing, you have to put in the effort to establish the bubble-wrap perfect separation from the outside world, the disquieting hierarchy, and so on. Instead the manga ruthlessly, perfunctorily zips through cliches one by one, and I'm certain that yawning wasn't the response that the forcibly kissing scene was supposed to elicit. Which, try harder, it's doing nothing for me.

Characters are similarly one-note. I'm no psychiatrist, but I could read their history from the moment they appear on the page. The confident and attractive mature one, the yandere, the tsundere, the stern glasses-wearing one, and so on. They say personality types, I say dumb lead with whom I'm suppose to identify and objectified women in uniforms. This is ecchi in disguise, guys.

To be honest, did I expect masterpiece, no, but I expected compelling storytelling with a side of girl-on-girl action (I said it). This is the trouble with fanservice titles, because there is such a thing as being discerning. Hell, from its inception yaoi has had such titles as The Heart of Thomas (pick it up guys!), and yuri such as Revolutionary Girl Utena, so no, that's not an excuse.

Adding insult to injury, Strawberry Panic! is unfinished. The manga adaptation has been suspended for ungooglable reasons and is unlikely to ever be completed in its original language, much less our English version. By the way, the artwork is middle-of-the-road lazy, as in plenty of tones and background that after visiting a Japanese stationary I know for a fact is tone too. Characters have varying boob sizes and stiff hair, but otherwise thankfully remain somewhat proportionate. Which is by no means a compliment.

In a nutshell? Do not read it, do not read it , do not read it, I don't care how your curiosity begs.

Old School Shoujo in: Amakusa 1637

So hi, if you are here you have spent too much time on the Internet, but anyway I will be posting manga reviews on this blog. Sometimes I will cover mangaka, sometimes I will cover shoujo, or shounen, or seinen, who knows, because if I stick to a release schedule I'd better be paid for it. Which I'm not.

If there is a manga you want me to review though, just comment and I will consider the suggestion. Ditto if you have any questions or opinions about my posts.

Amakusa 1637
Michiyo Akaishi

Amakusa 1637 purports to be about six modern day teenagers who, stranded in 17th century Japan, decide to change the outcome of the Shimabara rebellion and save the 37,000+ casualties. What Amakusa 1637 actually is, is fucked up shit.

So six close friends on the student council of St. Francisco Academy are magically transported back in time via a shipwreck into the burgeoning stages of the Shimabara rebellion. We follow the perspective of Natsuki, badass independent tomboy girl stereotype who is dropped near the home of the old couple who have lost their son. Who looks just like Natsuki, and who is the prophesied hero of the rebellion.

Of the six friends, both Miyamoto and Yatsuka are smitten with Natsuki, but she only likes Miyamoto back and I, really, support that decision seeing as how he actually respects her, and it makes character sense because she can take care of herself, not being the clumsy flailing type and all that entails. Yatsuka, on the other hand, because he was thrown back in the past further than our heroine, has engaged in five years of death penalty offences when they reunite. Turns out, he fell in love with the man who bore a resemblance to Natsuki, initiated intercourse with the guy while threatening his family, and after a while strangled him because he feared that he might become his weakness. That's not taking into account the ruthless slaughter and arson he committed against Christians, whereabouts of whom he had gained through being from the future. Icing on the cake: Yatsuka also forcibly kisses Natsuki while she is being bound, and then she forgives him with a hug and completely converts him to her cause and it's sunshine and kittens again. It's like he crossed the line, crossed another one, and then drew another line just to cross it, and then she came and stomped all over those lines. Which, let's not forget, in the context of this story, she represents the messenger of the Christian god, so yeah, add Christianity to sexual assault and massacre on the list of stuff that's being poorly handled by this manga.

It all comes wrapped up in sparkly shoujo conventions, only the sharp contrast between youthful bravado and cold massacre comes across as more incidental rather than artistically purposeful. It's only so many times one character restates their mission statement after hinting at it for half of the book before you chalk it up to bad writing. Here's a newsflash: that Natsuki decides to stay and help the people isn't as a huge deal as it's portrayed if 1, the fact wasn't so obvious in its set-up, 2, the teenagers have no way of returning anyway, and 3, there was anything close to development in Natsuki's character. So no, if Amakusa can't pull off standard manga convention it sure as hell can't pull off touchy social issues.

Then there's the uncomfortable incestuous vibe. Not actually incest, no, but the circle of friends resembles enough a family unit that the rampant sexual tension becomes disturbing. We have Miyamoto and Natsuki as the de facto parent figures, but bookworm girl Eri crushes on Natsuki as Natsuki has protected her prince-style from childhood, and Yatsuka, when he's not hitting on Natsuki, threatens to take an interest in straight boy Eiji. While student councils have always been breeding grounds for romantic inclinations every which way possible, Amakusa breaks convention by the overt yet not obviously fanservicey sensuality, and that's like intruding on some kind of code that for once I would really prefer unintruded.

Last redeeming opportunity, this is a question which I try to answer with every manga: At Amakusa's heart,... there is no heart. Amakusa banks on too many hooks to tell its story, hooks which become disparate elements that grate against one another: Christianity, 17th century Japan, student council, adoration of the peasants, chaste romance, sexual assault, shoujo trappings, etc.

In fact, Amakusa feels like it's fumbling round established boundaries, in the state of experimentation that should have passed years ago. I was surprised to discover that Amakusa was written as late as 2001, also partly because of the clumsy storytelling and the distinctly dated art style. Perhaps it's not the students who traveled through time...

And if the premise seems confusing it's because the only salient fact about this manga is that you shouldn't read it.