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osharenippon · 1 year ago

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Shoujo Manga's Golden Decade (Part 3)

Shoujo manga, comics for girls, played a pivotal role in shaping Japanese girls’ culture, and its dynamic evolution mirrors the prevailing trends and aspirations of the era. For many, this genre peaked in the 1970s. But why?

Part 1

Part 2

Follow the Trend

Before we move on to the third movement of the '70s, let's take a quick look at an essential characteristic of shoujo manga: its sensitivity to trends.

The early '70s were a confusing time for the industry. There was extreme freedom in certain corners, with Yukari Ichijo, Machiko Satonaka, and other prominent artists drawing very adult-like drama in shoujo magazines for very young girls. In contrast, there was also a lot of moralism. The fact manga wasn't taken very seriously meant magazines could get away with a lot since adults considered them terrible influences anyway. But, at the same time, since manga wasn't a respected medium, they were also prone to hysteria. Nothing illustrates this scenario better than the controversies surrounding "Harenchi Gakuen," the first full-length series by Go Nagai, who went on to become one of the most celebrated manga artists of the '70s.

Shameless! The nudity and erotic jokes in Go Nagai''s "Harenchi Gakuen" were a hit with kids and teens, scandalized parents and teachers, and made the shoujo industry chase after their own erotic hits.

Nagai, already a respected yet fledgling name in the industry, was recruited by Shueisha to be part of Shonen Jump's inaugural team in the late '60s. Jump, as any manga fan knows, is by far the biggest success story in manga's editorial history. However, back then, it was just a newcomer in a field dominated by Kodansha's Weekly Shonen Magazine and Shogakukan's Shonen Sunday. Go Nagai's series, whose translated name meant "Shameless High School," is Jump's initial smash hit and one of the titles behind its extraordinary ascent.

But "Harenchi Gakuen," a gag manga with erotic jokes, scandalized adults across the nation. The Japanese Parents and Teachers Association successfully led a Shonen Jump boycott, getting the magazine banned in several shops across the country and triggering a media circus. At the time, agitated journalists often accosted Go Nagai at airports and public events, aggressively pointing their mics at him, a consequence of manga-kas celebrity-like notoriety during that era.

Meanwhile, the reaction around "Harenchi Gakuen" did not intimidate other manga magazines. In fact, all of them were pursuing their own "harenchi"-like phenomenon and publishing stories with erotic dirty jokes. And yes, that included the manga magazines for little girls. In Ribon, male manga-ka Hikaru Yuzuki was responsible for the "dirty" manga series. At Weekly Margaret, Yuzuki also had a considerable hit with the high school comedy "Elite Kyousoukyoku," which, while not precisely "ecchi," had a tone reminiscent of Nagai's work. At Nakayoshi, the artist in charge of this type of content was none other than a pre-"Candy Candy" Yumiko Igarashi.

Before finding success with the smash hit "Candy Candy" manga, Yumiko Igarashi was the Nakayoshi artist in charge of recreating the "harenchi" phenomenon in the pages of the magazine. Above, in a good display of how public manga artists were in the '70s, Yumiko describes her panties as part of a Nakayoshi feature.

The "harenchi" phenomenon hinted at a shoujo field that wasn't yet wholly solidified and, therefore, was taking cues straight from the shonen segment, which would later become uncommon. But it also illustrates how the genre projects readers' dreams and preferences.

An example of this is one of Ribon's most popular series during the '70s, Yukko Yamamoto's "Miki to Apple Pie." Serialized between 1973 and 1976, this gag high school manga was full of absurd humor and nudity in the "Harenchi" vein. The twist is that it also had everything girls dreamed of.

The "apple pie" in the title was a reference to the lead character's favorite dessert during the time the American apple pie had just arrived in Japan and was considered the trendiest sweet. Miki Miyazawa, a popular and beautiful girl who served as the proxy for readers and was loosely modeled after talento Aki Aizawa, also loved astrology and the horoscope, and the romantic lead was a transfer student named Hideki Nanjo, who was a carbon copy of Hideki Saijo, the biggest popstar heartthrob of the '70s. Basically, "Miki to Apple Pie"'s central premise was "What if the popstars girls go crazy for was your silly gorgeous classmate?".

In fact, a testament to Saijo's popularity was how many shoujo manga romantic partners of the era used him as a model. Besides "Miki to Apple Pie," inserts of him were present in Satonaka Machiko's "Spotlight," Shigeko Maehara's "Kimi Iro no Hibi," Mayumi Yoshida's "Lemon Hakusho," among others.

With nudity, slapstick humor, and numerous references to trends and pop culture, "Miki to Apple Pie" became a sensation in the pages of '70s Ribon. The romantic lead, Hideki Nanjo, modeled after heartthrob Hideki Saiji, frequently performed impromptu renditions of popular hits from stars like Agnes Chan, Finger Five, Momoe Yamaguchi, Junko Sakurada, and, of course, Hideki Saiji himself. Full of shockingly offensive and scatological jokes, very little was considered off-limits, making "Miki to Apple Pie" a quintessential example of the distinctive '70s shoujo manga published during the peak of the "Harenchi" boom. It also serves as a perfect time capsule of its era, satirizing and commenting on everything popular at the time—from iconic products like the Panasonic Quintrix television and memorable TV commercials to celebrities, the toilet paper shortage during the Oil Shock, the Discover Japan campaign, and the widespread teenage girls' fascination with horoscopes. This manga elevated shoujo manga's trend obsession to unprecedented heights and mixed it with absurdity.

Saijo is a relic of the past, but shoujo echoing the trends of its time is a timeless characteristic of the genre. That's why most shoujo artists are women who are close in age to their readers: this sensibility to girls' desires is a vital component of the market. From the way the characters look to how they dress to even the shape of their eyebrows, everything is supposed to reflect its time. Therefore, to successfully create shoujo, one has to understand how girls perceive themselves and also how they want to be perceived. How they dress and look, but also how and what they dream of looking and wearing. What they aspire to and, above all, what they find attractive in the opposite sex.

It was precisely that sensitivity and this unique sense of what girls want and dream of that led to the creation of what is now the number 1 shoujo manga trope: the high school romance starring an unassuming, ordinary heroine. Leading the way was another group of artists that, while not as internationally celebrated as the Year 24 Group, are definitely equally as crucial to shoujo history.

The Otometique Fervor

An "otometique" girl by Mutsu A-ko and some of the artist's popular furoku.

Yoshiko Nishitani, another of Shueisha's top shoujo artists of that era, is often credited as being the first to create a series around ordinary high school love. She did that in 1965's "Marie Lou," published in Weekly Margaret. "Marie Lou" was set in an American high school and had a very fashionable white girl as its lead. On her next manga, "Lemon to Sakuranbo" (Lemon and Cherries), she'd once again achieve immense success by bringing the teen romance closer to reality, using an ordinary Japanese high school as a backdrop.

While Nishitani pioneered this narrative style, the rise of more realistic, everyday stories gained momentum about a decade later. One catalyst for this was the "Otometique boom," a phenomenon that unfolded in the pages of Shueisha's Ribon magazine in the latter half of the '70s.

The term "Otometique" combines "otome," meaning "maiden" or a pure young girl, with the "-tique" (tikku in Japanese) suffix. A-ko Mutsu was the artist who spearheaded this movement.

A-ko made her debut in Ribon in 1971 at the age of 18. Her popularity skyrocketed four years later when her first short stories, led by "Tasogaredoki ni mitsuketa no" (What I Found at Twilight), were compiled into a tankobon that became a best-seller. This success elevated her status in Ribon, and soon her "otometique" style became the talk of the town.

Mutsu A-ko's art.

In contrast to the dramatic narratives of the "Satonaka-domain" faction, "otometique" stories adopted a more straightforward structure devoid of major plot twists and intense drama. Instead, they focused on modest love stories where the exhilarating moments were ordinary occurrences, like spotting a cute boy on the street or touching a crush's hand for the first time. While some stories included sad or supernatural elements, readers were captivated by the uncomplicated, heartwarming moments.

Ako's heroines were ordinary, unassuming schoolgirls, often characterized by shyness and insecurity. Different from extraordinary characters like Lady Oscar from "BeruBara" or the iconic Madame Butterfly tennis star in "Ace wo Nerae," Ako's protagonists were life-sized.

"Otometique" manga often incorporated romantic comedy tropes, such as chance encounters with cute guys on the way to school or the transformation into beauty after removing glasses. The happy endings typically featured a boy reciprocating the girl's love by accepting her as perfect and beautiful just as she was.

In otometique manga, girls were often in cute plaid and gingham check dresses and skirts, while boys were impeccably dressed in Ivy style, as seen in Mutsu Ako's art above.

While the stories may have seemed mundane, their distinctiveness lay in the meticulous attention to detail. As significant as the exploration of falling in love and discovering inner strength were all the visual details in "otometique" art. Girls had braids or long wavy hair and wore adorable clothes with plaids and gingham-check, as well as cute accessories. At a time when most Japanese girls still had Japanese-style rooms, "otometique" heroines had gorgeous Western-style rooms. They hung out in cozy cafes, made handmade goods, and ate tasty-looking sweets. Houses had French windows and balconies. Boys were tall, lean, with fluffy hair, and were always dressed impeccably in Ivy-style clothes. The "otometique" artists created an atmosphere that perfectly matched girls' aspirations at the time.

Girls often dreamed with having Western-style bedrooms like the ones in Otometique manga.

While Mutsu A-ko was the trailblazer, she was soon joined at the top by two other iconic artists, Yumiko Tabuchi, and Hideko Tachikake. Each of them had their quirks. Tabuchi, for example, often had college girls as her heroines, mirroring herself as a student at the elite, trendy Waseda University. While Tabuchi and A-ko preferred short stories, Tachikake had a penchant for longer series with a bit more drama. But they all had a similar aesthetic and relied on the charm of ordinary love.

The "otometique" phenomenon reflected the trends of the time and foreshadowed the emerging consumer culture that would swallow the country in the next decade. The sophisticated visuals attracted people of all ages, from elementary school-aged girls to highly educated women and men. Both the top public and private universities in Japan, Tokyo University and Waseda, respectively, had famous "otometique" clubs full of students who loved the genre and the style. The mangas were so trendy that they were often referred to as "Ivy mangas," in reference to the iconic Ivy style that was the catalyst of Japan's youth fashion, which was going through a second revival around that time.

While projecting an atmosphere that girls dreamed of, "otometique" also showcases '70s youth and girls' culture. Melancholic, simple love stories among young people were also the theme of the big folk hits of the time. Ivy or country fashion and long hair for men were the top fashion trends. Western-inspired ideals- in decoration, fashion, and musical taste- were pervasive. And creating subcultures and hobbies around consumption was the path society was taking. Simple life-sized stories as a narrative preference echoed the reality of Japan, which was stabilizing itself after decades of turbulence. These stories brought what the country was craving: comfort.

Above, a Mutsu A-ko's bedroom that lived in girls' imagination. Below, the room is recreated in a 2021 exhibition of Ako's art.

Meanwhile, the rise of consumer culture among young girls led to a "fancy goods" boom, with stores selling cute stationery, stickers, and small items popping up everywhere around the country. Illustrators and companies, eager to capitalize, spared no time in creating appealing mascots and drawings to adorn these goods, and it was in that period that Sanrio created Hello Kitty.

Ribon and Nakayoshi, which were "furoku" magazines, also benefitted. Furoku are extra gifts that come with the purchase of the magazines. And the "otometique" boom meant Ribon could include "fancy goods" -- like notebooks, stickers, letter sets, and small paper goods readers could assemble -- with the illustration of these highly sought-after artists. Most girls around Japan could only dream of Western-style rooms, a closet full of cute Ivy fashion, trips to trendy cafes, and homes with French windows. But they could recreate a bit of this sophisticated atmosphere by having letter sets, notebooks, stickers, and small accessories with A-ko Mutsu, Hideko Tachikake, and Yumiko Tabuchi's art. These popular furokus and the "otometique" stories were critical for Ribon magazine to surpass 1 million copies in circulation.

Girls admired A-ko, Tabuchi, and Tachikake not only as artists creating heartfelt stories with attractive atmospheres but as personalities. The trio, who were in their late teens and early 20s, closely resonated with their fans due to their proximity in age and shared interests. The readers were moved when Ribon featured an article in which A-ko Mutsu had the opportunity to meet and interview her favorite singer, the rock star Kenji Sawada, a prominent teen idol of that era. The positive response was so overwhelming that, a few issues later, Hideko Tachikake, an avid folk music enthusiast, also had the chance to interview her idol, Kosetsu Minami, the lead singer of Kaguyahime.

An otometique girl by Yumiko Tabuchi (left) and a collection of furoku illustrated by her as seen on a 2021 exhibition on her art.

The popularity of "otometique" peaked in 1977. By 1981, the boom had almost faded, and A-ko, Tabuchi, and Tachikake published their last works on Ribon in 1985. Tabuchi and Tachikake married and semi-retired, while A-ko successfully transitioned to manga for adult women.

Despite the end of the style, "otometique" permeated every corner of Japanese society. Its furoku and atmosphere were one of the bases for the almighty "kawaii" culture which now rules the country. The life-sized heroines and focus on mundane love stories and everyday emotions went on to become one of the main characteristics of the shoujo manga industry.

The Iwadate Domain

For years, the influence of "otometique" has been downplayed, one of the reasons why the movement is almost undiscussed in the West. However, in the last few years, best-selling books reminiscing the style were published, and exhibitions of A-ko Mutsu and Yumiko Tabuchi's works were big hits across Japan. A-ko, who moved back from Tokyo to her hometown in Fukuoka and never stopped creating manga, was recognized by the local prefecture as an honorary citizen and gained a permanent museum in the area, signaling her importance to the industry.

But while the "otometique" phenomenon happened on the pages of Ribon magazine, Mutsu, Tabuchi, and Tachikake weren't the only three attracting a massive audience to this type of real-life love story.

Mariko Iwadate's work was extremely popular from the late '70s to the mid-2000s. Above, a collection of her work from her Margaret era.

Going back to the research of sociologist Shinji Miyadai, three domains divided '70s shoujo. There was the "Moto Hagio domain," which included the Year 24 artists. The Hagio domain was more highbrow and intellectually challenging, and many considered it an equivalent to literature, attracting the intellectual elite that sniffed at manga in general. It is by far the most discussed and debated '70s shoujo movement, as well as the most famous in the West, but it was the least commercially successful at the time. Then there was the "Machiko Satonaka domain," with emotionally driven stories full of drama, plot twists, and larger-than-life heroines. Most of the '70s best-selling shoujo series fall under this category, which includes the work of Yukari Ichijo and Ryoko Ikeda and sports manga like "Ace wo Nerae," among others.

Finally, there's the domain in which the "otometique" stories were created. And Miyadai doesn't name it after any of the Ribon artists, calling it the "Mariko Iwadate domain" instead.

In the Satonaka domain, the heroine served as a proxy for the reader in a fantastical world, while in the Iwadate domain, the heroine represented the reader in the real world. But, after all, who is the influential Iwadate?

Mariko Iwadate, who made her debut in 1973 at the age of 16, rose to prominence by embracing the "otometique" style during its peak in the late '70s. Similar to Ribon artists, Iwadate, who mostly worked for Weekly Margaret, captivated readers with her elegant and stylish art, featuring cute clothes, accessories, and intricate details.

Miyadai's choice to name the category after Iwadate rather than the genre pioneer A-ko Mutsu may be attributed to Iwadate's sustained success. After leaving Ribon in 1985, A-ko remained prolific and had a dedicated audience, but she couldn't replicate her peak. Iwadate's popularity, on the other hand, continued unabated even after she transitioned to adult women's manga. Iwadate's work, recognized for its emotional depth, became a significant inspiration for trailblazers like best-selling novelist Banana Yoshimoto and avant-garde manga artist Kyoko Okazaki. In 1993, when Miyadai wrote his book, Iwadate's fame and respect probably made her a more recognizable figure for readers to associate with the category.

Iwadate's soft girly art and story-telling made her extremely popular and influential.

Mariko Iwadate's narrative, especially her post-80s work, has a more psychological and mature element to it when compared to Ribon's artists. She, as an artist, bridged the gap between "otometique" and another highly influential "Iwadate domain" artist, Fusako Kuramochi.

Fusako Kuramochi, debuting while still a teen in the early '70s at Bessatsu Margaret (Betsuma), initially emulated her favorite artists, Moto Hagio and Keiko Takemiya, before finding her style—a realistic portrayal of romance with a substantial psychological element. Her success contributed to shaping Betsuma, alongside Ribon, as arguably the most influential and commercially thriving shoujo title -- the go-to magazine for high school rom-com.

Like the otometique artists, Fusako Kuramochi first gained prominence with short stories and one-shots. In 1979, she wrote her first series, "Oshiaberi Kaidan," in which each chapter depicted the life of a young girl from junior high to her graduation day. In 1980, she published "Itsumo poketto ni Chopin," a classical music manga that also dealt with growing up as a teenager in the city. From then on, she'd publish about two hit series every year in Betsuma before graduating successfully to adult women's manga in 1994.

Kuramochi's success was due to her great skill in portraying girls going through crushes, heartbreaks, and jealousy. The psychological elements struck a chord with readers and helped her create male romantic leads that were extremely popular.

Another component of Kuramochi's work was her sophistication, a result of her upbringing. Her father was the chairman of one of Japan's biggest printing companies, and she was raised in Shibuya, in the center of Tokyo, while attending an exclusive all-female institution. The fact she spent her youth in the middle of Tokyo's hustle and bustle meant she knew the capital well, and her works were full of references to trendy cafes, restaurants, nightspots, and neighborhoods. Her Betsuma work was published right before and during Japan's ostentatious Bubble years, so many chasing an exciting city life referred to her work.

While her stories reflected the reality and aspirations of the Bubble years, Kuramochi's true gift lay in providing readers with a realistic depiction of growing up and falling in love, making her work immensely popular. In general, consumerism -- displayed through clothes, accessories, and decor -- isn't as crucial to her success as the three Ribon "otometique" artists.

While Fusako Kuramochi is part of the "Iwadate domain," you can argue that Kuramochi evolved into her own category, which was vital for the development of real-life love stories in shoujo in the '80s and '90s and the rise of other highly-influential artists like Ryo Ikuemi.

But going back to the three '70s movements, "otometique"/"Iwadate domain" was definitely the most influential one in steering shoujo manga in its current direction. On the other hand, all of these domains co-existed together and fed from each other. In 1977, during the "otometique" boom, Yukari Ichijo remained untouched as one of Ribon's most popular artists with her emotionally charged dramas. It was the success of Ichijo and other "Satonaka domain" artists that allowed the "Hagio domain" to debut and take risks. In turn, it was the "Hagio domain" that showed there were rewards for young risk-taking shoujo artists.

Yumiko Oshima, known for her girly art and sensitive story-telling, is the inspiration behind the otometique boom.

When asked which artist inspired them the most, both A-ko Mutsu and Mariko Iwadate gave the same answer: Yumiko Oshima. Oshima, known for her quirky love stories and girly art, is an artist who trained alongside Hagio and Takemiya at the Oizumi salon and rose as part of the "Year 24 group," publishing risk-taking manga in Shogakukan and Hakusensha's magazine after a brief stint in Weekly Margaret. In other words, despite the striking differences, the origin of the "Iwadate domain" is the "Hagio domain."

While the influence of the idealized real-life romance is the one we can better observe today, contemporary shoujo would not exist if not for all these three styles meshing together and creating something new. And from that, things kept evolving and changing and gaining new forms. Because, once again, manga, and especially shoujo manga, is about reflecting the girly ideals of its time.

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lamangasserie · 3 years ago

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Des tomes 1 comme s'il en pleuvait !

Comme l’évoque le titre de cet article, je ne sais pas ce qui s’est passé ce mois-ci mais j’ai lu beaucoup de tomes 1. Habituellement, je suis quelqu’un qui préfère finir un manga avant d’en commencer un autre. J’avais quelques tomes 1 qui m’attendaient déjà dans ma pile à lire mais je me suis en plus rajouté des titres empruntés en bibliothèque. C’est parti pour les décortiquer !

On commence avec un titre emprunté en bibliothèque, Simple comme l’amour de Fusako Kuramochi, publié aux éditions Akata en 2010 à l’époque de Delcourt. Publication stoppée.

Résumé de l'éditeur:

Soyo Migita habite un petit village dont l’école ne compte pas plus de six élèves. Sa vie paisible va pourtant être complètement chamboulée par l’arrivée de Hiromi Ôsawa, originaire de Tokyo. D’abord excitée à l’idée de faire sa connaissance, la jeune fille ira de surprise en surprise en découvrant qu’Ôsawa est, en fait, un garçon prétentieux et hautain. Pourtant, elle ne peut s’empêcher d’être fascinée par son assurance…

Avec Simple comme l’amour, Fusako Kuramochi porte un regard tendre et bienveillant sur l’enfance et la jeunesse. Loin de l’agitation des grandes villes, découvrez les tribulations amoureuses de Soyo et ses amis en vous laissant séduire par la beauté sereine du dessin de son auteure.

J’avais déjà commencé un fil sur Twitter avec mes premières impressions. J’ai commencé à m’intéresser à ce titre il y a quelque temps, j’en ai lu du bien et Fusako Kuramochi est une autrice reconnue au Japon (elle fête ses 50 ans de carrière cette année !). Puis j’aime beaucoup les couvertures françaises. Tout de suite le coup de cœur est visuel. Le trait de l’autrice est très fin, sec et a quelque chose de nerveux, ce qui donne au dessin des airs aériens mais rustique. Le manga bénéficie aussi d’un découpage singulier qui a fait parcourir à mon regard un chemin jamais parcouru avant sur les pages d’un manga. L’autrice a une façon bien à elle de découper l’action et les émotions de ses personnages. J’ai aussi beaucoup aimé le personnage de Soyo. Sur la couverture du tome 1, je trouvais qu’elle faisait très sage. En réalité, elle manque plutôt de tact, est assez fière et chauvine. Mais elle est aussi très gentille et généreuse. Sa relation avec Sachi, la plus petite de l’école est touchante, elle s’occupe d’elle jusque dans les moments ingrats. J’aime beaucoup aussi le fait que ça se déroule à la campagne. Comme je disais dans mon fil Twitter, pas mal de shojo qui se passent à la campagne sont bien. Je trouve qu’ils ont une saveur unique. Puis c’est tout un petit monde à part, avec ses habitants qui se connaissent tous entre eux, les fêtes et les croyances locales. En résumé, il émane de Simple comme l’amour un charme très particulier sur lequel j’ai encore du mal à mettre des mots. Il me tarde de lire la suite !

On continue avec un autre titre emprunté en bibliothèque. Il s’agit de L’Enfant et le Maudit de Nagabe, publié aux éditions Komikku pour un prix de 7,90€.

Résumé de l'éditeur:

Il y a très longtemps, dans une contrée lointaine, existaient deux pays… « L’intérieur » où vivaient les humains, et « l’extérieur », ou habitaient des créatures monstrueuses qu’il ne fallait surtout pas toucher, sous peine de subir la malédiction. Cette histoire commence le jour où se sont rencontrés deux êtres qui n’auraient jamais dû se croiser…

Ils sont aussi différents que le jour et la nuit… Et malgré tout ce qui les sépare, malgré les ténèbres qui les entourent, ils vont écrire petit à petit une fable tous les deux…

Pour ce titre aussi j’avais commencé un fil sur Twitter. J’avoue que je ne sais pas très bien pourquoi j’ai emprunté L’Enfant et le Maudit mais je trouvais les couvertures très belles, le titre intriguant et le sous-titre en irlandais, Siúil, a Rún, inattendu. On peut dire que j’ai été un peu happé par le mystère qui semble entourer le manga. J’ai beaucoup aimé l’univers de conte développé par Nagabe, atemporel mais qu’on peut situer dans une Europe du Nord, avec ses forêts de sapins et ses maisons en pierre. Je crois que ce genre de cadre est assez atypique dans le manga en général donc ça fait plaisir à voir. Le découpage est chouette et certaines cases bénéficient d’angles de vue percutants. J’aime aussi beaucoup le contraste du noir et du blanc, qui n’est pas sans rappeler la dualité des deux personnages principaux ainsi que celle du monde dans lequel ils évoluent. Quant à l’histoire, pour l’instant je la trouve intéressante mais peut-être pas très bien ficelée. Comme écrit dans mon fil sur Twitter, je n’ai pas été très convaincue par la fin du tome qui est censée être percutante, mais qui m’a laissé indifférente puisque des indices désamorçant les enjeux de la scène finale sont glissés tout le long du tome. Je reste cependant très curieuse de connaître la suite et d’en apprendre plus sur cet univers.

On passe enfin à un manga de ma pile à lire qui m’attendait depuis décembre dernier. Il s’agit de Futagashira de Natsume Ono. Titre inédit en France, il est sorti chez nos amis transalpins aux éditions Bao Publishing. Le manga est disponible au prix de 7,90€.

Résumé de l'éditeur, traduit par mes soins:

Quelque chose est en train de changer dans la bande dont font partie Benzo et Soji. Quand le vieux chef vient à passer l’arme à gauche, ils sont écartés des postes du haut de la hiérarchie. Ainsi, ils décident de quitter le groupe pour tenter leur chance de leurs côtés, sentant que le destin les appelle à accomplir quelque chose de grand, bien qu’ils ne sachent pas encore quoi précisément. Une histoire d’amitié entre deux hommes aux antipodes l’un de l’autre, de subtiles duperies et d’arnaques rocambolesques, dans un Japon de l’ère Edo. Raconté par Natsume Ono, une des mangaka les plus importante de sa génération, avec un trait sublime et une légère, mais non moins acerbe ironie.

Ici encore, j’en avais déjà parlé sur Twitter. C’est un manga que je ne comptais pas acheter mais face à lui en librairie, j’ai craqué pour la couverture. Il s’agit du préquel de Goyô, de la même autrice, paru en France chez Kana. C’est un manga qui repose beaucoup sur le duo que forment Soji et Benzo que tout oppose mais qui se complètent et se retrouvent sur les valeurs et ambitions qu’ils partagent. J’ai adoré ces deux personnages intègres, autant Soji d’un naturel calme que Benzo au sang chaud. Les péripéties sont aussi un point fort du manga. À travers le pays, ils se retrouvent pris dans des histoires rocambolesques où on sait jamais qui aura la peau de qui. J’ai pris beaucoup de plaisir à lire toutes ces péripéties et autre retournement de situation. L’ultime point fort de Futagashira, c’est le dessin de Natsume Ono. C’est mon premier manga de l’autrice et donc, c’est assez surprenant graphiquement. Elle a un style très particulier et immédiatement identifiable, avec un trait très libre et souple. Il me tarde de lire la suite des aventures de Benzo et Soji !

Ensuite on passe un tout nouvel arrivé dans ma pile à lire: Mobuko no Koi de Akane Tamura, paru aux éditions Noeve Grafx pour un prix de 7,95€.

Résumé de l'éditeur:

Même dans l’ombre, l’amour peut fleurir…

La timide Nobuko Tanaka déteste se retrouver au centre de l’attention. Réservée, toujours en retrait, elle a l’impression d’être le second rôle de sa propre vie.

Mais lorsque les sentiments d’un premier amour germent en elle, elle se découvre le courage de sortir de l’ombre pour avancer, pas à pas, vers l’élu de son cœur.

Premier ou second rôle… quelle importance lorsque les sentiments sont là ?

Je l’ai déjà dit un milliard de fois, notamment ici, ça fait un bon moment que je connais ce titre et que je vis une petite histoire d’amour avec. Je ne croyais pas trop à une sortie française mais Noeve Grafx l’a fait. Pour honorer ce titre, je lui ai déjà consacré un article (à retrouver ici). Pour la faire courte, j’ai adoré dans ce tome 1 le personnage de Mobuko auquel un grand nombre d’entre nous peut s’identifier ainsi que la palette de personnages gravitant autour de Mobuko, qui s’annonce comme être une bande de copains et copines qu’il sera excitant de retrouver à chaque tome.

On passe à un titre que me faisait plutôt envie depuis sa sortie japonaise. Il s’agit de Spy x Family de Tatsuya Endo. J’ai profité de la super offre sur l’application Manga Plus de la Shueisha qui propose de découvrir plusieurs titres gratuitement jusqu’en janvier 2023. Le manga est publié en France par les éditions Kurokawa pour un prix de 6,90€

Résumé de l'éditeur:

Twilight, le plus grand espion du monde, doit pour sa nouvelle mission créer une famille de toutes pièces afin de pouvoir s’introduire dans la plus prestigieuse école de l’aristocratie. Totalement dépourvu d’expérience familiale, il va adopter une petite fille en ignorant qu’elle est télépathe, et s’associer à une jeune femme timide, sans se douter qu’elle est une redoutable tueuse à gages. Ce trio atypique va devoir composer pour passer inaperçu, tout en découvrant les vraies valeurs d’une famille unie et aimante.

Comme je l’ai souvent dit, il ne me faut pas grand-chose pour m’intéressée à un titre. Par exemple, un beau-gosse en costume trois pièces avec un flingue et assis sur un fauteuil LC2 signé Le Corbusier suffit à attirer mon attention. Dans ce premier tome, j’ai tout de suite accroché aux dessins. Ils sont simples et efficaces pour le côté un peu tranche de vie du manga mais l’auteur sait jouer de son crayon lors de scènes d’action, rendant un dessin très dynamique propre aux mangas d’action. J’ai aussi été épatée par quelques cases avec des perspective très plongeantes. Ça m’a rappelé mon amour pour les débuts de Naruto de Masashi Kishimoto qui a des illustrations avec des vues en perspective à couper le souffle. Côté scénario, je ne m’attendais pas à ça, je pensais qu’il y avait un peu plus d’action. Cependant, ça ne me dérange pas et je me suis laissée surprendre par l’humour omniprésent et la dynamique qui règne au sein de cette famille si particulière. Je regrette tout de même le manque d’une mise en contexte plus poussée de la mission pour mieux en comprendre les tenants et aboutissants. Même si je comprends que ce n’est qu’un prétexte pour la construction de la famille et la suite de ses aventures. Enthousiaste, je continuerai le manga avec plaisir.

On termine par un manga issu de ma pile à lire qui me faisait envie depuis un moment et que j’ai enfin pu me procurer: Le Rakugo à la vie, à la mort de Haruko Kumota. Le manga est publié au Lézard Noir pour un prix de 18€.

Résumé de l'éditeur:

Dans le Japon des années 1960, Kyoji est libéré de prison pour bonne conduite. Sans famille ni attache, il est déterminé à devenir le disciple de Yakumo, un grand maître du rakugo, depuis qu’il a assisté à son impressionnante prestation au centre pénitentiaire. Étrangement, le maître choisit de prendre le jeune homme sous son aile, alors qu’il n’avait jusque-là accepté aucun apprenti, et lui donne même un nom de scène: « Yotaro ». Une nouvelle vie s’ouvre dès lors à Yotaro, qui tentera de faire perdurer cet art l’ayant tant aidé durant ses heures plus sombres. Il pourra compter sur le soutien du domestique Matsuda et de la jeune Konatsu, fille d’un célèbre rakugo-ka décédé de façon tragique, qui fut autrefois l’ami et le rival de Yakumo…

Alors, Le Rakugo à la vie, à la mort, c’est totalement un manga sponsorisé Twitter. Je connaissais le titre de loin mais vu les réactions à la suite de l’annonce de ce titre, je me suis dit que si je passais à côté, j’allais louper quelque chose. Je pensais que j’allais aimé mais j’ai carrément adoré ce premier tome en fait ! C’était très plaisant à lire, j’ai tout de suite accroché à l’histoire et aux personnages tous aussi uniques les uns que les autres. C’est surtout une porte ouverte sur le monde du rakugo, discipline qui m’était totalement inconnue jusqu’alors. Rien que dans ce premier tome, on ressent tout l’amour que l’autrice peut porter pour la pratique. On a beaucoup de vocabulaire spécifique, on est introduit à plusieurs histoires, et on comprend que comme n’importe quelle autre discipline artistique, le tout c’est que de faire du rakugo son propre rakugo, de le façonner à sa propre personnalité. Ça m’a donné très envie d’en apprendre plus sur le rakugo ! Durant ma lecture des premiers chapitres, j’ai aussi beaucoup pensé à la série américaine Mrs Maisel. Certes, les deux protagonistes sont très différents l’un de l’autre, mais chacun, ils vont se démener d’une manière ou d’une autre pour exister dans un monde auquel ils n’appartiennent pas. De plus il est aussi question de l’art de savoir conter les choses et de, souvent, faire rire le public. Dans les deux cas, ce sont deux œuvres avec des contextes différents sur des disciplines que je trouve peu exploitées et pour ma curiosité sans fin, c’est un vrai plaisir. Côté dessin, j’ai trouvé ça très chouette, c’est frais et léger. Les expressions du visage sont très bien rendues et sont souvent rigolotes. Je trouve qu’il y a quelque chose de Natsume Ono, particulièrement dans les visages et encore plus précisément au niveau du bas du visage, les bouches sont très basses chez les deux. Les personnages de Haruko Kumota sont aussi tous beaux. Yakumo en particulier dégage une aura fascinante rien qu’avec son design fin et sec. Le travail de Cyril Coppini, le traducteur, est aussi un vrai plus à cette édition. Le livre est truffé de notes pour nous accompagner dans le monde du rakugo avec toutes ses spécificités. Les bonus de fin (postface, histoires du rakugo et lexique) sont aussi une jolie intention pour le lecteur. Pour ceux qui sont intéressés et qui sont disponibles sur Paris, Cyril Coppini donne une conférence sur le rakugo à la Maison de la Culture du Japon à Paris le 5 mars. Je suis un peu deg de ne pas pouvoir y aller… À défaut, je lirai la suite du Rakugo à la vie, à la mort avec engouement !

Voilà, l’article touche à sa fin ! J’ai commencé beaucoup de nouveaux mangas ce mois-ci et j’en fais un bilan très positif ! Je suis particulièrement contente d’avoir commencé Spy x Family, étant donné que je sors de ma zone de confort de lecture habituelle. J’ai l’impression de me renouveler haha ! Je continuerai à commenter ces mangas probablement sur Twitter où vous pouvez me suivre (@_chiarara) et n’hésitez pas à me dire si vous avez lu certains de ces titres et ce que vous en avez pensé !

#simple comme l'amour #tennen kokekko #fusako kuramochi #l'enfant et le maudit #totsukuni no shoujo #nagabe #mobuko no koi #akane tamura #futagashira #natsume ono #spy family #tatsuya endo #le rakugo à la vie à la mort #showa genroku rakugo shinju #haruko kumota

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