Nel mondo dell'uomo che cammina si puo' dormire sotto un albero di ciliegio, su un letto di petali, nel giardino dell'infanzia che ritroviamo da adulti, in uno di quei viaggi a ritroso che, attraverso l'esperienza delle sensazioni, ci permette il piu' elusivo dei tragitti, quello attraverso il tempo. (dall'introduzione di Marco M. Lupoi) ( )

Wonderful meditation on walking and life, with minimal dialogue, no real plot. If this manga is an accurate depiction of urban Japan it appears to be a pedestrian wonderland. Unlike the city I live in where I feel I take my life in my hands when I get out of my car and try to walk somewhere. ( )

Before saying anything about the stories, I want to point out that the art in "The Walking Man" is delightful. Jiro Taniguchi's style is typical of many Japanese comic artists: it's clean, attractive, and usually easy to figure out.

The book is a collection of short stories, perhaps eight to twelve pages long. In them, a young, married Japanese man wanders about his city. In each story, the man finds some Zen-like joy in his quiet life, which must be easy when his wife stays home preparing meals and worrying about him. He breaks into a courtyard and enjoys flirting with a girl, despite being married. He climbs up a tree and enjoys the view. He picks up a shell and takes it to a beach. He breaks into a swimming pool and swims nude. In one very distasteful story, he even flirts with schoolgirls.

There is dialogue and text, but it is scant. When it is present, it feels interruptive because it takes away from these quiet, pretty pictures.

Taniguchi, I suppose, is trying to encourage readers to be impulsive and enjoy the simple pleasures around them. Unfortunately, each little story is just a conveyance of the previous one. They all run together because they make the same repetitive point.

Perhaps I read the book incorrectly. My guess is that Taniguchi doesn't want us to consider life behind this young man. We're not supposed to be critical of him, but rather enjoy the his little moments with him. ( )

Read for my Graphic Novels in Libraries class - this series of short almost meditative vignettes features the main character and his encounters with people, nature and various features of the city. It's a collision of the mundane, the everyday with the beauty of simplicity - a bird, a found shell, etc. The artwork is stunning here with tons of truly awesome panoramic panels. ( )

I want The Walking Man's life. Beautiful illustrations, a mix of detailed line drawings and monochrome ink washes. The Walking Man is a dapper gent, fond of an evening or weekend stroll to explore the area he and his wife seem to have just moved to. Sometimes spontaneous, he'll see something from the bus and get off to investigate, or scale a fence to take a midnight swim in an open air pool, or take off his shoes to scale a tree. More often he'll just go where the path leads and see what he can see. The observations in the drawings are lovely, taking in the minutiae of Japanese suburban life. It made me think of times we have gone off the tourist trail to explore residential areas or visit small towns on the outskirts of big cities in Japan.

One story in particular, The Long Trail, made me laugh out loud. There is no dialogue, just a couple of sound effects, but the warmth of an encounter between two Walking Men who start out as rivals and end up companions is wonderfully realised through the artwork. ( )