Inio Asano

There's a specific scene near the end of this story that could be read so many different ways that I love picking through.

The author character is signing copies of his latest manga, a shallower and more easily digestible story compared to his previous deep, intellectual work. A fan who has been sending praise over the years shows up to get her copy signed and bursts into tears. The author's older work was a lifeline to her, and she has attached to his new series as well. The author is show more overcome with emotion to receive such personal recognition, but with tears in his own eyes he says she doesn't understand anything.

Is that a fact?

From his perspective, she seemed like a "true believer" fan who loved his work for the deep and insightful meanings it imparted, and her enjoyment of the new series is proof that she's a dumb-dumb fangirl who'd like anything he crapped out. What if that's not the case? What if she recognizes the difference in quality between the two series but also the talent required of both? What if she's invested in her favorite author's success regardless of swings in quality because that earlier series made such an impression? What if she feels overwhelmed in the moment and sputtering words she's always wanted to say and isn't in an ideal state for offering nuanced critique of his entire catalog?

Does Asano expect the reader to show sympathy to the fan, or to side with the author and write her off as a ditz? Because siding with the author is ultimately the shallow interpretation, while questioning the interaction is the mature route. And in a story like this, with its constant examination of an artist's purpose and what gives them value (sales, reputation, productivity, fulfillment), this dramatic moment feels like a test for the characters involved, the reader, AND Asano.

That's a pretty cool level of thoughtfulness. show less

If Oyasumi Punpun left you wanting more of that bizarre and empty world and its distinguished artwork, this is the manga for you. While A Girl on the Shore is nearly devoid of the hyperreal depiction present in Asano's flagship series, this sordid tale contains just the right doses of mania, vulgarity, cynicism and melancholy--a story that really lingers in the psyche.

Punpun's an elementary schooler (must be the japanese equivalent of 3rd or 4th grade). He's struggling to understand his parent's collapsing marriage, and he's just hitting puberty. He falls head-over-heels for the new girl in class.

And that's really about it as far as plot's concerned. The novels' written from Punpun's perspective, complete with imaginary friends and childish flights of fancy. Punpun hears but doesn't necessarily understand what the adults around him say, so it can feel a show more bit like you're piecing the story together indirectly. Mostly this works - Punpun really feels like a kid, and I had a lot of empathy for what he did and didn't understand about his tough family situation.

On the other hand, the childs' perspective might also be why the plot seems to meander a bit. There's a whole subplot where the kids go on an adventure to uncover a murder and - to me, anyway - it doesn't really seem to go anywhere or lead to anything.

The art style is also hit-or-miss for me. For the most part it's beautiful, but it can be computer-aided in a way that takes me out of the story. Some cityscapes look like photographs that were passed through a digital filter, or outfitted with inexplicable lens flares. Sometimes it works great, sometimes it feels cheap. Also, for Punpuns' internal dialog, the book uses panels that are white text on black background. I imagine this works a lot better with japanese lettering - in english it looks clunky.

I do love the books' most obvious stylistic choice: Punpun and his family are all drawn as weird little ghosts. All the other characters are meticulously-rendered as traditional-looking manga people, but Punpun himself is a little mouthless triangle ghost. His family is a mouthless triangle ghost with a mustache, his uncle has a beanie, and his mom has a puff of curly hair. I like it. show less

This quiet slice of life manga took me by surprise. After reading the powerful, painful Goodnight Punpun, this was a refreshing blast of elegant joy. There was a great deal of painstaking effort put into it, but unlike the tortured characters in the pages of his so-called masterpiece Punpun, the characters shine in subtle ways here. They are quietly funny, and very subtly sad. When tragedy hits they do not slit their wrists, they try to force themselves forward like real human beings, like show more trying to walk through a self-constructed wall. This work of art renewed my confidence in this author. Where flaws were inherently built into some of his other works, they were conspicuously absent from this minimalist masterpiece. Music plays a central role in the story, and the way it runs through the lives of the characters is touching. The motivations of the characters are all well-defined, and none of them are doing things randomly. Some of them are trying things out but they are not acting in unrealistic ways. I think this is the most realistic work of Asano. When you are tired of the bleakness and depression of Punpun come to Solanin to be rejuvenated. show less