In relation to Adam Stephanides’ post on xxxHolic, Art Nouveau and Ukiyo-e, here are some images from the floating world for comparison with the various illustrations and covers for CLAMP’s manga.
(1) Style of Moromosa: Parading Courtesan with Attendants, 1740s
(A longish comment on xxxHolic Vol. 1-3 and the roundtable so far)
The roundtable so far: Vom Marlowe, Kinukitty, Adam Stephanides on xxxHolic. All posts on the roundtable here.
It’s not difficult to admire the gentle artistry of CLAMP. It’s easy on the eyes and doesn’t deviate significantly from the style readers have come to expect from manga. Still, while there are individual illustrations of some interest every so often in xxxHolic, my eyes were flitting through most of the pages with a general lack of enthusiasm.
My primary feeling upon completing the first 3 volumes of xxxHolic was that of boredom.
An uncomfortable amount of the drawings and panel to panel transitions here function solely as tools to move the story forward, failing to form any sort of pleasant and unique narrative voice. The sparse backgrounds and general lack of variation in page compositions are all typical of deeply commercial stories bound to rapid serialization schedules. These elements are also perfectly suited to the needs of the inevitable anime adaptations. Reading this series was not unlike listening to a relatively agreeable narrator delivering a quick recital of a very forgettable story; no different from the multitude of disconnected, languidly paced, by the numbers dramas we might find on television today.
This post is part of a week-long roundtable on xxxHOLic. Vom Marlowe’s kickoff post is here, and Kinukitty’s post is here.
In a comment thread on The Hooded Utilitarian that I don’t seem to be able to find now, in which the discussion had turned to CLAMP, I remarked that xxxHOLiC was pretty good. When Noah said that he liked CLAMP mainly for the art, I suggested he try xxxHOLiC, on the grounds that it had “lots of swirly stuff.” On that point, my memory had not played me false: xxxHOLiC does indeed have lots of swirly stuff, some of it quite pretty. However, upon rereading volumes one through three, I realized that my memory of these volumes as a whole had been rose-tinted. Or maybe I’ve become jaded with supernatural manga with formulaic, Twilight Zone-ish plots and one-dimensional characters. Actually, my feelings about the writing are much the same as Kinukitty’s, so I may wind up repeating some of her points.
xxxHOLiC is a cross between the “magical shop” and “supernatural detective” genres. Like these genres, it is episodic, and it stands or falls largely on the quality of its individual episodes. In these three volumes, however, the episodes are often simplistic morality tales (the habitual liar and monkey’s paw episodes) or end in anticlimaxes (the ghost storytelling and “angel-san” (a Ouija-like game) episodes). I think Kinukitty’s first instinct on the habitual liar episode was correct: it really is thuddingly moralistic. The wages of habitual lying are generally not death, and especially not death in such a contrived fashion as here: becoming completely paralyzed at the exact moment a truck is bearing down on you. (And what was the point of giving her the ring? It appears to have made matters worse, if anything.)
The monkey’s paw episode is even lamer. To anyone who’s read the short story the monkey’s paw comes from, it’s obvious that things will end in disaster for its user, so there’s no suspense. (When I first read this volume and got to the introduction of the monkey’s paw, my reaction was “You’ve got to be kidding.”) And because the paw’s user/victim is so dense, I couldn’t even feel any sympathy for her. Again, why does Yuko give her tube with the monkey’s paw inside in the first place? (Maybe her strategy is to give the “unworthy” enough rope to hang themselves.)
I said the angel-san and ghost storytelling episodes end in anti-climaxes. In the latter, it turns out that Yuko set the whole thing up and Watanuki was never in any real danger. And as for the angel-san episode, WTF? A giant snake appears out of nowhere and saves Watanuki and Domeki? Talk about a deus ex machina. We can add to the list of bad episodes the thirty-odd pages devoted to the crossover with Tsubasa. It may pay off later in the series, but for now it just takes up space.
Not only is the plot weak, there are problems with the storytelling as well. Many of the episodes feel padded, not because of decompression-style techniques but because of the lengthy, dull, and sometimes nigh-incomprehensible explanations Yuko is in the habit of giving. There are also some storytelling glitches. The most conspicuous is during the ghost story-telling episode. After Himawari, Domeki and Watanuki have told their stories Yuko announces that it’s her turn and says: “Now, that thing showing on the shoji paper door behind me: what do you think it is?”* Her words are illustrated by a two-page splash panel depicting said paper door, and on it a silhouette of an enormous ghostly-looking figure. It’s undeniably an effective moment — except that, as far as we see, none of the characters react to it at all. And while Watanuki is attacked by spirits shortly afterward, there’s no indication that this particular spirit is among them, leaving the reader to wonder what the point of the splash panel was.
On to characterization. Of the recurring characters, only Yuko and Watanuki receive any real characterization. But these characterizations are little more than sets of quirks: Yuko is capricious, loves booze and exploits Watanuki; Watanuki has exaggerated reactions to everything, is infatuated with Himawari and irrationally hates Domeki. Apart from these quirks, Yuko and Watanuki are pretty much empty shells as far as character is concerned. And while the quirks are amusing at first, they become tiresome long before the end of volume three. (Maru and Moro, Yuko’s almost identical child assistants, are annoying from the first.)
Throughout volumes one through three, Yuko stresses that you must take responsibility for all your actions, and that you are the only one who can change your behavior. This theme could have served as a means of deepening Watanuki’s character. But it’s weakened by the fact that Yuko’s actions towards Watanuki completely contradict it. She magically compels him to enter her shop against his will, and virtually coerces him to make a “contract” with her, high-handedly overriding all his protests. And I see no indication that we are supposed to notice the discrepancy between her words and her deeds.
I’d be more inclined to share Vom Marlowe’s love for Yuko if she were more of a character and less of a plot device. Also, she really doesn’t look middle-aged to me, especially when I look at her bare-midriffed figure in the Internet addict episode. Of course she could be middle-aged and extremely fit — though she doesn’t seem to be big on exercise — or magically preserved.
In general, xxxHOLiC’s writing is best when it’s most restrained. Largely for this reason, the Internet addict episode is the best episode in these volumes. There’s a wordless two-page sequence showing the addict, who has agreed to never touch her PC again, trying to resist temptation. This sequence is extremely well done, and all the more welcome for its contrast to all the talking and yelling in the rest of the volumes. In fact, these are my favorite two pages, despite their lack of “swirly stuff.”
This segues neatly into the subject of xxxHOLiC’s art, which is far superior to its writing. Vom Marlowe already pointed out the Art Nouveau influence, which is obvious and strong, but at the same time integrated into the volumes’ overall style. I suspect that Yuko’s appearance, in particular, was inspired in part by Mucha’s depictions of women. I don’t really see much of an ukiyo-e influence, but then I’m less familiar with that tradition (and haven’t really had time to bone up on it since Vom Marlowe sprung it on me). In addition, the pages flow well visually; and while I’m not sure what Vom Marlowe means when she praises the “ink,” the solid blacks are well placed on the pages. A nice touch which I just noticed is the visual rhyme between Himawari’s hair and the black smoke CLAMP sometimes uses here to represent malignant spirits.
I don’t hate xxxHOLiC, although I’m not sure I’d say, as Kinukitty did, that I don’t dislike it. It’s a decent enough time-killer, if you can put up with most of the episodes ending disappointingly. (Come to think of it, based on the other CLAMP series I’ve read, they seem to have a problem with endings in general.) And the art is good, although you might be better off getting your Art Nouveau directly from the source. But if you’re looking for a good supernatural mystery series, I recommend you look elsewhere.
*I’ve inserted my own punctuation because if I used the ellipses used in the book, Yuko would sound like Swamp Thing.
_____________
Update by Noah: You can read all posts in the xxxholic roundtable here.
This post is part of a week-long roundtable on xxxHOLic. See Vom Marlowe’s opening salvo here.
I bought the first volume of xxxHOLiC (if you object that that version, mentally fill in the random capitalization convention of your choosing) years ago. I don’t remember how many years ago, but probably in 2004, when it came out. The pages have gotten yellowish and skanky looking, but that doesn’t take long with that newspapery pulp stuff Del Ray uses. It doesn’t matter anyway. The point, if I could manage to shift around to it (ah, there – much more comfortable), is that I read it and I wasn’t moved to buy any more volumes in the series (it’s ongoing, and volume 15 is due out in March). Upon rereading it, and then reading volumes two and three for the first time, I don’t really see the error of my ways.
I am a fan of CLAMP, and I don’t dislike xxxHOLiC. Parts of the story amuse and interest me. I loved Cardcaptor Sakura (but not Tsubasa, the sort of second version of it) and Clover and Chobits and Wish. I hated RG Veda and couldn’t really get into Magic Knight Rayearth. I was frustrated by Legal Drug, but I’m not bitter. So, I have some history with CLAMP. I even remember why I got the first issue of xxxHOLiC; I’d seen some of the original color art at an exhibit and, damn, it was amazing. I still think about it occasionally, and my memory is like sieve, but with holes so big it can’t be used as a sieve because everything bigger than a car falls through. So what I’m saying is that aesthetically, this is some fine work.
CLAMP is known for that, of course. The design is beautiful, and they also use design to help tell the story, something I, for one, like to see in a comic. For instance, look at this (from volume 1).
There’s smoke swirling around Yuko – the witch at the center of the series – all the time (well, not literally, but enough to establish the connection). The smoke that drifts up this page is shown on the cover and throughout Yuko’s introductory scene. And it’s echoed here.
This is one of Yuko’s clients. She comes in because she can’t move her little finger. What the hell does that mean? In palmistry, the little finger symbolizes communication, and hands are often used to symbolize divinity in religious iconography. In Buddhism, the Karana mudra (a mudra is a ritual hand gesture), which is made by raising the index and little finger while folding the other fingers down, expels demons and removes obstacles like sickness or negative thoughts. Is that what we’re supposed to be thinking about? Maybe, but damned if I know. It doesn’t seem unreasonable. The woman’s problem is that she’s a compulsive liar, and every time she lies, a beautifully drawn greasy black cloud pours off her. We watch as she tells casual lies everywhere she goes and she starts losing use of other parts of her body – her arm, her neck – and finally her entire body freezes up in front of a big old truck, which ends her sad tale of woe.
I have two major thoughts about this, the first story woven into the series. When I saw the black clouds engulfing this woman, I thought, karma. (Yes, this depiction is also all about the way spirits are depicted in Japanese prints. But I believe it’s fair to think beyond this.) In the west, karma is often understood to be kind of a cosmic vigilant ubercop who will jump out at you if you do something bad and yell “gotcha!” This is a misunderstanding. Let me propose another. I’ve often thought of karma as the maple syrup that accumulates on the outside of the bottle. (Feel free to substitute Kaluah, if you prefer.) You buy a fresh bottle of syrup, and it’s nice and clean and perfect. The first time you use the syrup, a bit of it is likely to drip down the side. Or a lot. Even if you wipe it off, the outside of the bottle remains a bit sticky. The next time you use it, you spill a little more syrup down the side of the bottle. As time passes, maybe some dust or lint gets stuck in there, too, and the layers of spilled syrup build up, and your lovely, pristine bottle of syrup has become a bit of a mess. Or a disgusting thing nobody wants to touch or think about, depending on how sloppy you are and how long you’ve had the syrup. This is how karma works. As you go about the business of living your life, you spill some syrup. It isn’t a punishment or judgment; it just makes things sticky, and you live with it. So it is with the lies this character tells. Nobody affixes a big, red “L” for liar on her chest; nobody even confronts her, even though we see that others realize she’s lying. But the weight of the lies builds and builds until her life is too gummed up to function.
I also thought, wow, that’s kind of extreme, isn’t it? Does she really deserve to get run down by a truck because she tells lies? She isn’t hurting anyone but herself – although there’s a Buddhist argument to be made (while I’m talking about karma) that you can’t really just hurt yourself. Because you are part of the universe, your actions affect the universe. Yadda yadda. Anyway, it seemed surprisingly moralistic, at first glance. But, no; I think it’s just heavy-handed symbolism. The witch keeps saying there’s always a price. What she means is that there are consequences. You don’t get away with anything. You might not understand the harm you’re causing, and the cosmic judge might not jump out and finger you for your transgression (that was a little joke – we were talking about her little finger, so – oh, never mind) – but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a price. You live with the syrup residue, and it leads to the situations it leads to, whether you realize what’s happening or not.
The witch tries to explain this more explicitly in the next scenario of volume 1 – a situation that resonated with me, I must say. This client is a woman who is addicted to the Internet. She neglects her children and her housework in favor of her online connections. But the woman in the story wants to change. Unlike some, she is concerned about being a good wife and mother. She tells Yuko so, but the witch is suspicious and tries to make her understand that, basically, it is what it is. Maybe she really doesn’t want to be a good wife and mother; maybe she really wants to tell her family to sod off so she can spend all her time online. There’s a choice to be made, and pretending that isn’t the case doesn’t change it.
Volume 2 is different in structure, concentrating on the main characters instead of the little vignettes about the clients. This isn’t ideal, in my opinion. Because I’d sort of thought I didn’t especially like the main characters, in volume 1, but I kept getting distracted. Taking away the distractions (except for a brief appearance by four characters from Tsubasa, which was supposed to be delightful but just made me feel a little hunted) made this clear to me. (They also stop by Legal Drug, which caused me to stop and say, “Hey! They stopped at Legal Drug!” But that was a very fleeting pleasure, really.) This volume sets up the romance or whatever between Watanuki (the kind of annoying kid who is mystically drawn to Yuko’s place who I didn’t mention in my ramblings about the first volume because I really didn’t give a damn about him as a character) and the maddeningly over-cute Himawari (a girl with big, aggressive curls and, apparently, a secret – dum dum dum!!!!). (Wikipedia will tell you what the secret is, if you care. Kind of lame, I thought. Whatever you’re thinking it is, that’s probably better.)
Yuko tries to make the really maddeningly stupidly jealous and competitive Watanuki understand that he needs his schoolmate, Whatshisname, to get rid of the spirits that chase Watanuki around. Watanuki’s problem with the spirits is what led him to the witch’s house anyway, and it’s a big deal, not a minor problem like continually forgetting to pay the mortgage on time or something. So I kept thinking that Watanuki would grasp at any solution, no matter how immature he is, but apparently not. CLAMP did warn me that “This isn’t the kind of story where understanding makes you smart, or not understanding makes you dumb.” Anyway, Yuko saves the day (for the reader) by arranging for these four characters – her, Watanuki, the annoying cute girl, and the strong, silent, tall, and handsome guy Watanuki is jealous of – to get together and tell ghost stories. I liked the ghost stories. Japanese ghost stories tend to be understated and quietly creepy in a way that appeals to me.
That smoke is still there, by the way. I’ll stop pointing it out, but I do like it. Check out this page – just beautiful.
Right, then. On to volume 3. We get a couple of adventures in this book, one with Watanuki and that guy whose name I can’t remember, and one with a client, of sorts. In the first story, Yuko sends the boys into a school where the students have stirred up spiritual nastiness by playing a game that’s the Japanese equivalent of the Ouija board. Things get dire, but then a huge snake spirit comes along and eats the Ouija-based miasma. Yuko explains that the snake showed up to clean up something that had gotten out of balance in its area, and that none of the spirits are good or evil, even though they were trying to kill our protagonists; good and evil are just concepts assigned by people. Very Buddhist, that. I’m all for it, but I felt like the following story, about a monkey’s paw, spirals a bit out of control itself (but the snake spirit is nowhere to be seen).
In the monkey’s paw story, a blithe young woman is drawn to the witch’s house (by fate, or, more accurately, karma, I think) and asks for a sealed cylinder. Yuko gives it to her on the condition that she Never Open It. Yeah, right. Well, something happens, the cylinder opens, and there it is. Everyone knows a monkey’s paw is bad news, but this woman (I don’t think we find out her name, and I’m running out of steam with these books, so I’m disinclined to go back and check) explains that she’s extremely lucky and always gets what she wants, so she isn’t worried about wishing on the nasty-looking thing. Her first wish is for rain, just to prove it works. There is a sudden downpour, and the next day we find out the consequence – all the water is gone from the school pool! Gasp! Now, I don’t want to go out of my way to be snarky about CLAMP, but this is lame with an almost unbearable lameness. Next, the woman wishes for an antique mirror she’d been trying to talk some shop-owner into selling to her. Poof! The Yata no Kagami, coming up! (I think that’s a Naruto reference. This whole crossover thing is not lighting my fire.) This is a sacred object that represents wisdom and/or honesty. That’s a bit ham-fisted too, but OK. I can live with it, especially after the pool fiasco. Next, the woman wishes for a topic for her upcoming seminar, and she gets a brilliant lesson plan. Now, the way this works, in case you haven’t read a monkey’s paw story, is that a finger breaks after each wish. Five fingers, five wishes. So after this seminar success, she has two wishes left and is really feeling on top of the world. But then she’s late for an important class and thinks, wow, if only there were a HORRIBLE ACCIDENT! Then I could show everyone the police report and I wouldn’t get in trouble! You’re ready for it, right? Yep, the man next to her falls onto the track and is killed by a train. Oh, dear! Maybe this repulsive dead animal part is bad news! A random stranger dies, and then our heroine gets in trouble because the monkey paw actually stole her brilliant lesson plan from somebody else, and she’s been caught. Now she worries she’ll be blamed for the death of the stranger, too, since he was standing next to her. Finally concerned, she unfurls her fifth wish – for the monkey’s paw to make this right. So it strangles her. Move along – nothing to see here.
Well, I thought about this tale a lot more than I should have. I was immensely cheered when the monkey’s paw first made its appearance. I mean, a monkey’s paw! That was going to have to be fun, wasn’t it? But I think CLAMP lost control of the metaphor. Good and evil are relative concepts, we must expect consequences for our actions, and so on. But when the happy-go-ultimately-not-so-lucky lady’s saga is over, Yuko says, “She thought that the disaster that is brought on by breaking a promise would never come down on her head.” That sounds more “gotcha” than I’m comfortable with.
Now, there is a delightful little story at the end of volume 3 that succeeds on all levels. It is my favorite thing in xxxHOLiC, charming in the way I wish the rest of the series were. Watanuki runs across an udon stand run by a fox spirit. (It’s a sweet little joke, as fox spirits are said to like the fried tofu in kitsune udon.) The idea is cute, the foxes are cute, the whole thing is cute. The young fox of the house is drawn to the feathered end of a broken arrow in Watanuki’s bag, and all the foxes are pleased when Watanuki gives it to the kit. If anyone knows what the arrow symbolism is, I’d love to know.
So, I’ve pushed past volume one and through two and three. Am I going to finish the series now, as I am prone to do? No. It’s OK; enjoyable, even, but nothing moves me to read any more of it. This is interesting (to me) because I did read the entire Pet Shop of Horrors series (by Matsuri Akino), which was released starting in June 2003 in the United States and 1996 in Japan. (xxxHOLiC was released starting in 2004 in the United States and 2003 in Japan.) It’s hard not to compare them, although that comparison might actually be fairly random. xxxHOLiC stars a beautiful, playful, flirty, and mysterious figure whose occult significance is obvious but never quite explained and who likes to lounge about wearing sexy Chinese clothes. (Sometimes, anyway. That thing on the cover of volume 2 certainly looks cheongsam-like.) Clients come to her store (albeit not of their free will) to get a wish granted, often much to the wisher’s detriment. Pet Shop of Horrors stars a beautiful, playful, flirty, and mysterious figure whose occult significance is obvious but never quite explained and who also likes to lounge about wearing sexy Chinese clothes. Clients come to his store to buy exotic pets that will, more or less, grant the owner’s wish, often much to the wisher’s detriment. (There are contracts, and the clients break them; that seems very much like the monkey’s paw thing, for instance.) This sexy witch-like figure is a man, but that isn’t a major deviation, believe me. Yuko drinks and flirts and partially falls out of her various improbable outfits, while Count D eats cake and flirts and never seems in danger of falling out of his various improbably outfits, but they do make you wonder. xxxHOLiC wins by a mile in the categories of art and design (and color – I seldom wish with all my heart that an entire manga could be done in color, but I do with this one), but Pet Shop of Horrors wins for storytelling. So sayeth Kinukitty, anyway.
Oh, and one last thought. Perhaps you were wondering how the hell you’re supposed to pronounce “xxxHOLiC.” I found it somewhat vexing, actually. When I thought about it. So, twice. Anyway, Wikipedia comes to the rescue again, explaining that it’s just “holic.” The Xs aren’t letters but multiplication symbols, standing in for crosses, which indicate relationships or crossovers in Japan. The “holic” part seems to be standard usage. As for the weird capitalization, I don’t know. Let’s just ignore it.
_____________
Update by Noah: You can read all posts in the xxxholic roundtable here.
CLAMP, xxxHolic, Volumes 1-3
Introduction:
Creators and artists: Since this is the first post for this roundtable, I thought I’d give a quick bit of background on the manga and its creators. Manga creation works rather differently from American comics; the manga stories and characters aren’t owned by the corporations, but by the artists, and thus the creation of manga from start to finish is done by the mangaka themselves, not divided between draftsmen and inkers and colorists. (Of course there is some editorial input, but in general, the division of labor is not editorially mandated.) In this case, CLAMP is a manga studio that has four artists who share the work among themselves.
CLAMP began as a large collective with eleven members, drawing fan comics, and then shortened to its current roster of four artists. CLAMP does not have assistants (other manga studios usually do; for more info on how this works, I highly recommend How To Pen and Ink), but do all of the work themselves. The division of labor depends somewhat on the work in question, with main storylines done by one member and character designs by another and so on.
I’d also like to note (as someone who did not attend art school), that CLAMP took art classes in high school, but are otherwise self-taught.
Many people will be more familiar with their other works such as: Cardcaptor Sakura, Chobits, X/1999, Tsubasa Resevoir Chronicles, and RG Veda. Many of their works have been made into anime. A complete list is available here and more information about them is available here.
HU is a comics blog and so of course we’ll be focusing on the manga, but buying manga is expensive. For those who would like a taste of xxxHolic for free or for those who prefer their comics to move on the shiny screen, you can watch the full anime of xxxHolic on the Funimation site here.
Plot and Characters: xxxHolic is about Watanuki, an orphaned teenager who is haunted by spirits and his employer, the powerful witch Yuko. Yuko protects Watanuki from spirits, and in exchange Watanuki works as her assistant, cook, dogs body, and virtual slave. There are two other important characters: Himawari, a girl that Watanuki has a crush on, and Domeki, a teenager who is something of a rival and friend to Watanuki. Both Himawari and Domeki are drawn into the supernatural realm by the machinations of Yuko. Yuko grants wishes at her magic shop, and Watanuki, as her assistant, helps with the wishes and some of the fallout that wish fulfillment entails.
Which, you know, blah blah blah. What difference does it make and why should I read this or care about it, you may well be asking. I will tell you! There are three things that I especially love about this manga and are the reason that I suggested this for our roundtable. 1. The art. The style draws on Ukiyo-e prints and Art Nouveau and I can stare at it for hours. 2. The ink. Which is similar to the style, but different. I’m talking specifically about the beauty of the lines and the movement and how it creates emotion in the smallest ways. 3. Yuko. Who is AWESOME.
Art style:
I’m not an expert on Ukiyo-e or Art Nouveau, but as an artist, I’ve always loved both styles and I look at the work often. The richness of the worlds they create fascinates me, but what I especially adore is the way that they both incorporate the beauty of the natural and everyday world. Here is a great shot of Yuko smoking:
Another aspect of the art is the clothing–the designs are lush or stark, and the bodies are distorted into beautiful shapes much the way Aubrey Beardsley did. Here is an everyday, simple panel from xxxHolic where Watanuki and Yuko are at a fortune teller’s house:
Ink: The untranslated scans below are from a sneak-peak of volume 5. I wanted to show a piece that conveyed a lot of emotion. The mood is soft and slow, and the inks are clean and lovely. All of the mid-tones are created by ink techniques, and the gentleness of the ink adds to the sadness.
The soft lines of the flowers, the long smooth lines of the live hand against the dry and hard bones–it’s so simple and masterful in its simplicity.
I’ve gone on and on, so I’d better move to the last point.
Yuko: I admit I’d kind of like to be Yuko when I grow up. She’s frivolous and silly at times, likes her pleasures (everything from yummy food to cooling breezes in summer to a good, stiff drink), has the best clothing ever, but she’s also very wise. She warns her customers about the dangers of powers and wishes, and cleans up problems to save the world, all while looking elegant and stylish. And she’s middle-aged and unattached and sexy and perfectly happy about all of it.
If you’ve ever seen a Disney movie, you’ve probably seen a stereotypical middle-aged woman of magical power as a scheming bitch out to destroy the up and coming young heroine. That’s rather sad. It’s pretty rare to find powerful, middle-aged women who enjoy the sinful pleasures of sex and booze and are unashamed about it who don’t turn out to be villains. (If she was a man, especially if this was a historical, she might be called a rake.) I love that Yuko is wise while couture and sipping a naughty drink.
She has a great deal to say about personal responsibility measured against fate, and about hitsuzen. But this post is already a great deal too long, so let me just say: Welcome to xxxHolic week!
And I’ll leave you with one of my favorite pictures of Yuko:
___________
Update by Noah: You can read all posts in the xxxholic roundtable here.
Tomorrow we’re starting a roundtable on CLAMP’s series xxxHOLIC. We’ve got a couple of folks who are going to join us for guest posts this week: Adam Stephanides and Kate Dacey. So say hi to them when you see them!
Best Comics Criticism 2009
The big news about the blog this week was Suat’s announcement of the Best Online Comics Criticism of the year.
All the judges beside Suat weighed in with discussions of the list and of their own choices. And those judges were me, Tucker Stone, Frank Santoro and Matthias Wivel.
In other reactions around the web, Johanna Draper Carlson pointed out there could have been more women and manga critics on the list. Melinda Beasi responded by putting up a list of her favorite female manga critics. And David Welsh picked some of his favorite criticism of the year.
Finally, Brigid Alverson notes that she was supposed to be involved in the judging but had to drop out at the last minute due to work and family pressure. She also provides a look at her picks for best criticism of the year.
On HU
Also this week on HU:
Kinukitty reviewed Age Called Blue.
Richard Cook reviewed Sayuki.
Vom Marlowe reviewed Godchild.
I sneered in passing at The Dirty Projectors and Michael Chabon.
And last but not least, this week’s free music download features early doom metal.
Utilitarians Everywhere
At Splice Today I review a newish graphic biography of Johnny Cash.
The exercise does affirm Cash’s power as a storyteller, mainly through contrast. Kleist is a pretty good artist—his drawing of a young Johnny standing at the microphone, head cocked, preparing to deliver “Big River” is lean and striking. But the effort to show the narrative itself is determinedly bland: Images of the mooning swain and his traveling lover lack the lonesome sparseness of the sung original, not to mention its barely contained, self-parodying humor. The pictures seem generic, taken out of any Twainesque riverboat setting, where the original reveled in its specificity as Cash’s deep baritone caressed each place name and ventrioloquized voice. It’s like Kleist decided to draw the sequence without ever stopping to wonder what made the song worthwhile in the first place, with the predictable result that he gets the general framework and leaves out the soul.
And I have another discussion of Zizek with Bert Stabler over at his blog.
Bert: It’s been occurring to me that Jesus defined modern social relations– defining a private sphere apart from state interference, rejecting traditional value systems and extended and even nuclear family relations in favor of abstract inner pursuits, extolling radically egalitarian values, dying for his principles. He despised work and ownership. And, strangely, he was completely the ideal for which our civilization continues to strive. He was a humanist, without the solipsism, nihilism, and hubris.
On tcj.com I have a review of Lilli Carre’s illustrated version of Hans Christian Anderson’s The Fir Tree.
At Metropulse I review the really strikingly bad new Vampire Weekend album.
And finally, Tom Spurgeon has the final wrap up of his massive end-of-decade interview series in which I participated.
