Mine had been a life of shame.
I’m like the one black sheep born into a pure white flock. Unable to enjoy the things my peers enjoyed, unable to grieve the things they grieved, unable to eat the things they ate-- being born an ignoble black sheep, I didn’t understand the things my friends found pleasent, such as love, kindness, and sympathy. I simply dusted my dark wool in white powder and pretended I was a white sheep, too.
I’m still wearing my mask, still acting in this farce (Nomura 1).
For those who have read some of my other posts, perhaps you remember this quote from my post on quotes which have influenced me personally. The words open the first of an eight-volume Book Girl series by Japanese author Mizuki Nomura and illustrated by my favorite colorist, Miho Takeoka.
Book Girl follows the events in the life of Konoha Inoue, a high school student who, in his second year of middle school, won a national writing contest and became an overnight sensation. However, the stress of the circumstances and events that followed threw him into depression, during which he vowed to never write another novel again. Come high school, though, he find himself caught by a book loving, book eating upperclassman, Tohko Amano, who ropes him into joining the literature club. Now, as a high school junior, this duo’s literary adventures are about to begin.
And the adventures occur thusly:
- Book Girl and the Suicidal Mime
- Book Girl and the Famished Spirit
- Book Girl and the Captive Fool
- Book Girl and the Corrupted Angel
- Book Girl and the Wayfarer’s Lamentation
- Book Girl and the Undine Who Bore a Moonflower
- Book Girl and the Scribe Who Faced God (Part 1)
- Book Girl and the Scribe Who Faced God (Part 2)
Okay, really quick, as a student of the Japanese language myself, I’ve got a few linguistic and translation issues with these stories (i.e. It should be “Clown” not “Mime”, Literature Girl is a more accurate translation of the Japanese series title, 文学少女, and other title-related nitpicks, “goblin” is not a good translation for the word “yokai”, it should be “Touko” not “Tohko”, a huge translation error that causes confusion and supposed plot contradiction in book 1 but that I will not list because it would be a spoiler, other clumsy translations). However, as I understand some hardships of attempting to translate such a difficult as Japanese and the need to try and make the series more accessible to foreign audiences (hence no honorifics), I’ll leave my list of objections incomplete.
So, what about the main characters? Well, what can I say without spoilers? I love both Konoha and Touko (yes, I shall be writing her name like that from now on), though the book-eating monster of a girl is my favorite. She’s amusing, kind, stubborn, a glutton, passionate, imaginative, overly curious, and openly cares for everyone around her. Konoha, on the other hand, is serious and stand-offish, someone who used to be open and emotional and honest but, for multiple reasons, now closes himself off, only opening to Touko because of her weird, relaxing atmosphere. Over the course of the series, you naturally see more to both of these characters, such as Konoha wrestling with who he was vs. who he has become, and seeing them unfold over the series is an emotional experience. The relationship between the two leads is fun, but also painful, to read, tender and heartbreaking. I can’t say too much, for spoiler reasons, but their relationship and how it influences the stories, each other, and other characters is one of my favorite parts of the series.
Speaking of other characters, there are many in this series, and almost every one of them appears in more than one story. Main characters become side characters; side characters become main characters, and no named character is ever truly forgotten. Some characters present in the beginning few stories even end up playing pivotal roles in the last two. I loved seeing how Nomura constantly brought back characters, giving the series a more realistic touch. After all, just because one story ends doesn’t mean the lives of its characters do. Also, none of characters change immediately but over several volumes, a process often overlooked with side characters.
Another beautiful element is the writing style. Konoha narrates the stories in an intimate, first person voice that really portrays his character and the emotions he feels throughout the story. While the translation is a bit clumsy compared to the Japanese, the translators did an excellent job overall of capturing Nomura’s character’s voice.
Nomura also knows how to structure her stories… for the most part. I won’t deny that the endings or solutions of some of the stories stretched my belief a bit too far, but overall she builds her stories well. Tension mounts without breaking, except for a quick bit of humor that rarely (if ever) feels forced, and the twists she incorporates are well done. Some twists are better built up than others, but none of them really fails, in my opinion, to have at least some impact.
So now that I’ve covered a few technical aspects of the series, I wish to spend a bit touching on my two favorite elements of these stories. The first is Touko. Yes, she’s my favorite character, but she’s also my favorite part of the stories, too. I love how goofy she is, but also her intelligence, imaginative and emotional intelligence that is. When she isn’t too distracted, Touko has excellent critical thinking skills, and the reason she is able to solve problems she encounters is due to her imaginative intelligence, using her knowledge of literature and her imagination to draw connects and lead her to truth. As a character, Touko presents a great example of how imagination isn’t just “fancy” but can actually help one reach truth, a lesson many in our “scientific” age have forgotten. In addition, Touko displays a strong emotional intellect. Sure, she often gets caught up in her own desires or naivety/optimism, which usually makes her do something foolish, but she’s sensitive to other’s emotional states and displays time and again wisdom in interacting with others, even if she may not be conscious of it. She wants what’s best for everyone, even if it might be painful.
My second favorite aspect of this series is Nomura’s handling of serious examples of brokenness and sin in the world. And, as a warning to any potential readers, this series is dark and contains, or at least touches on, objectionable content, including but not limited to: suicide, murder, incest, abuse, divorce, prostitution, sex outside of marriage, and homosexuality. Before you completely disregard this series because of this list, I wish to say that Nomura usually strikes a good balance on these topics, not dwelling too long on them nor taking any of them lightly. On the other hand, some readers might be frustrated at times with Nomura’s addressing of these subjects. Some she condemns, some she permits, and others she leaves ambiguous (though in some of the circumstances, I appreciate the abiguity rather than clumsily trying to squeeze in a speech somewhere and becoming preachy).
Furthermore, as Nomura doesn’t approach these topics from a Judeo-Christian worldview, her solutions to some of the problems are not always satisfactory. For example, her *spoiler* arguments against suicide, which amount to “we’ll find some reason to live, together” and “a person is more than one moment or work”, while true statements, I thought were weak. Unlike authors such as G. K. Chesterton, Nomura doesn’t, or in a way can’t, take the position that this world in itself is worth living for, that it is a wonderful creation worth fighting for. She doesn’t address the selfishness and cowardice of suicide or how it’s an insult against God by purposefully marring His image and His creation while “spiritually, he destroys the world” (Chesterton 73). Obviously you don’t need to hold a Christian worldview to understand and convince others that suicide is wrong (Thank God!), and Nomura’s arguments, like I said, are true, but without a proper foundation, they can be easily ignored or topple with just a little bit of thought. Though what can be expected from someone starting from a shaky foundation herself.
Even though I say that, and even with my frustration as Nomura’s handling of some topics, there is one thing she does for which I have no end to my appreciation: every action has a consequence. None of the actions I described above or other poor decisions, are treated flippantly and most often causes more harm than most stories I’ve read are willing to expose. Take, as an example, a topic often glanced over here in the west, divorce. Nomura doesn’t take the route of “it’s fine” or “just let us grownups do what we want, you’ll get over it no problem” or any other such glaze on divorce, as if it were a perfectly normal course of events and all the kid needs is just to spend some quality time with whichever parent, or any of those sorts of things. With divorce in this series, the emphasis is on the kid, and it is not sugar-coated at all. All I can say is I hope the character involved is an extreme case. Actions have consequences, and here is the West, we can often downplay or even skip over those consequences. However, Nomura doesn’t, not with anything. Such a consequence-heavy series, where so much of the conflict in fact revolves around consequences and poor acknowledgement of these results, was a welcome contrast to most stories I experience in the mainstream today.
And so, even with its large flaws, I love this series. I love the characters and Nomura’s writing style and ability. Though her lack of clarity in regards to certain sins I know to not be satisfactory, her manner of approach and refusal to brush away results and consequences makes up for it. Dark but sweet, broken but searching for beauty and hope, I can’t recommend this series enough.
1Nomura, Mizuki. Book Girl and the Suicidal Mime. New York: Yen Press. 2010. Print.
2 Chesterton, G. K. Orthodoxy. New York: Doubleday. 1990. Print.
No comments:
Post a Comment