Girl Meets Chair by KJ Lab

I've remarked in the past how much I enjoy dōjinshi with a theme, rather than a parody, behind them. There is something that speaks of commitment behind the work of circles such as Heikinritsu, or dōjinshi like Chocolate Apple: the strong vibe that there is a concept, a design behind their ongoing work that will reward following up. It doesn't rely on ongoing narratives and plots (which usually I find don't work in the dōjin format), but also provides stronger cohesion than your average collection of illustrations (reviews of which, by the way, are in the pipeline - got a few pretty good ones last month).

Since I also enjoy bizarre anthropomorphizations, purchasing a copy of KJ Lab's Girl Meets Chair was pretty much a clinched deal. Now, when it comes to the circle's history, facts are a bit sketchy, as searching for the circle's name or artist (ケイジェー) brings up a clearly unrelated outfit (still worth a peek though). Their first book dates from late 2017, making them a fairly new circle, and their latest dates late 2018. As usual, one can't exclude that this Kj Lab circle and the one above are the same, with the usual 'wipe the past' coat applied, but I remain unconvinced.

Girl Meets Chair, as the title suggests, is a collection of illustrations featuring moe anthropomorphizations of... chairs. Fifteen examples of design chairs through the years, from Hans Wegner's Y Chair, to Eames' Side Shell Chair, is paired with a young girl whose clothes and color scheme emulates the piece of furniture's. And so, Hansen's Ant Chair has a girl, dressed in boy scout clothes, trying to save such chair from a line of ants; and Droog's Tree Trunk Bench has a scantily clad girl playing the dryad while sitting on the grossly overpriced piece of wood. The charm is, of course, in the strange and endearing ways by which ケイジェー manages to tie together the human figure and the furniture, playing each one with and against the other.

Graphically, the work is top notch: the artist clearly knows how to play with shape, layout, and especially color: complementary hues are often used, giving the illlustrations a strong and vivid vibe. The girls themselves are fairly cutesy moe, there are a couple anatomical inconsistencies but nothing excessive.

Definitely a nice little work from a circle worth keeping an eye on... assuming it still exists.

怪作戦 (寺本浩人) 妖怪写真集 原点回帰の第七巻! by 怪作戦テラ

Some stuff is just too weird to ignore - and, sometimes, stars align and you get stuff that is both funny, weird, and simply puzzling in an exquisitely Japanese kind of way. It was the case with a last minute addition to my most recent dōjinshi shipment from Japan, a homely black and white zine that held, by cover alone, the promise of unabated weirdness. Seeing is believing, so take a look at the cover below and judge for yourself...

Yup. It's a guy, donning the world's lowest budget kappa cosplay ever. 妖怪写真集 (Youkai photo album ) is, as the full title suggests, the sevent installment of a series by dōjin group 怪作戦 (Mystery Tactics? Covert Ops?), which entirely revolves around cosplaying yōkai (Japanese supernatural beings) in the most absurd, hilarious, cheap ways. The booklet's underground cred is massive: black and white printed on cheap paper and, from what I could see, hand-stapled. It also features a gigantic, full page warning against unauthorized uploading, so for this review I will limit myself to scans that are already available on the group's own blog and Twitter.

The booklet's setup is simple. The circle's three main members (main man テラ, 桂つかさ, and 蘭陵亭) plus a few guests (including a guy in a horse mask) comment on a series of real-life reenactments of old yōkai depictions from yukio-e prints. Now, if you're thinking costumes and prosthetics in the style of Link Factory... you'd be wrong. A scrawny (eyes blacked out) guy poses half naked in a public park, behind a tree... and there you have it! A Oni cosplay! Same guy, wrapped in a towel, licks the ceiling beams of a ryōkan... and he's a てんじょうなめ (Ceiling Licker - google it, it's worth it). Props are nearly non-existent, and the whole affair is clearly an absurdist, tongue-in-cheek piece of humor: the 'cosplayer' can barely hold his laughter in, and the experts' comments range from bizarre explanations behind the choice of portrayal, to out-there jabs ('Needs to stick the neck out more!' 'What's under the towel?'). Also, don't expect to learn anything about the yōkai portrayed, because you won't.

All in all, a fun piece of bizzarro that really plays on the kind of stuff I like: underground execution, out-there content, inane comedy. Highly reccomended.

Yume Nikki - Dream Diary -

So, I took advantage of a 3 euro sale, and downloaded myself a copy of Yume Nikki - Dream Diary. Now, in case you're unfamiliar with the Yume Nikki franchise (because, even though only a handful of products are available, this is basically what it's become), here's the quick rundown: about 10 years ago some Japanese anon nicknamed Kikiyama  released a small pixel-art style game called Yume Nikki. Cobbled together with rudimentary skills and a copy of PRGMaker, the game's bizarre, dream inspired atmosphere, as well as its lack of perceived basic elements of gameplay (almost no enemies or game overs, an 'ending' that is little more than an afterthought, no significant scoring system) caught on with those looking for something bizarre, different, and free.
Cue Kadokawa (yes, they don't publish just books) and their so-called Yume Nikki - Dream Diary - project: a tribute / sidequel /rehash of the original game in glorious 3d graphics, allegedly under the supervision of Kikiyama itself. A cursory browse of the web should make it pretty clear that this cash-in masqueraded as a tribute was very, very poorly received.

Because, I won't deny it, the game is a quick and dirty cash-in, designed to capitalize on the original game's popularity, while trying to get more audience by sticking on top of it more typically 'game-like' elements that might appeal to a contemporary crowd. Still I feel that, while the intentions might not have been pure, the tangible result is a flawed, but still interesting little game - for a number of reasons.

First of all, while I was very attached to the pixel-like graphics of the original Yume Nikki, I must admit that the select few worlds rendered in Dream Diary are visually stunning, keeping to the predecessor but adding a layer of eye candy that, for obvious reasons, the original lacked. Also, the couple of worlds that are 'new' to Dream Diary (a city alley and a school) are probably the best parts of the game: the school in particular could very well deserve its own small, indie game.

So, where's the problem(s)? first of all, Kadokawa's attempts to turn Yume Nikki's abstract gameplay into a more streamlined experience, both action-wise and in the story department, leave a lot to be desired. A 'good' ending tacked at the end of the game, while heartwarming, has little sequitur with both the original, and the remake's own atmosphere. Also, the many platforming elements, often poorly designed, really drive home one concept that, by now, I hoped all game designers got into their head: your game either is a platformer, or it isn't. Platforming 'elements' never work, period. Controls are wonky, and the point of view more often interferes than not with actually accomplishing objectives. Finally, the puzzle elements are ok, but very basic and could have used some more polish.

As often happens with remakes / reboots / however you want to call them, I feel Dream Diary would have worked much better as its own thing, keeping the bases but delving into its own world - perhaps building more on the 'school' levels. As it stands, Dream Diary is a largely disappointing experience, and not the least because it's hampered by the legacy left by its predecessor, a milestone in indie gaming.

If you're wondering yes, it's worth those 3 euros. Not much more, sadly.

ちとちとに by 空中セピア

As you've probably guessed by now, one of the things that I enjoy the most about the dōjin world is, we could say, its sometimes 'alternative' aesthetics. While I do enjoy the occasionally ultra-polished, plastic like visual style of some publications, I'm generally not a hug fan of the Nitroplus / Crypton / RedJuice style of illustration. I like Garo; I like Ikki; I like dōjinshi that look and feel like zines that have been stapled and printed in someone's basement. And the same goes for the story - the more abstract, slice-of-life like and banal it is, the better. Sometimes I think it's mostly a reaction to my Western media fixations, that usually revolve around bombastically childish high fantasy stuff (long time World of Warcraft player here).

The dōjinshi I'm reviewing today falls squarely into this 'alt' category. ちとちとに is, as one could guess by the title, the second in a series: unfortunately, I couldn't track down the first booklet, or any of the others for that matter. The circle, whose sole member is 藤田ユウヤ, is actually fairly prolific, though most of their output in the last few years consists of Love!Live and Touhou fanbooks, and is therefore of no interest to me. ちとちと is, as far as I know, their only 'original' themed dōjinshi series. The object itself is a black and white, stapled 24 pages booklet on what looks like recycled paper. Right up my alley, in other words.

Since I could track down only volume two, I'm not entirely sure on the whole story arc the four total volumes are meant to narrate, though all signs point to a fairly simple slice-of-life story. In ちとちとに, a young woman called Minatsu has turned to cross-dressing as a way to cope with her brother's rejection of her since they were young. She is gradually, and not entirely painlessly reintroduced to her femininity by her willowy, nameless and mysterious friend and this lady's brother, giving form to a sort of bizarre love triangle that, unfortunately, is not resolved in this volume. There is minimal conflict, the story is barebone and lives of the yuri tropes of Japanese storytelling that I happen to love to death.

Visually, there is much to be loved if you're into that pencil-drawn, barebone yet visually rich style that, in mainstream manga, is usually associated with alt slice-of-life (think Urushibara or Ashinano). There are anatomical approximations, the characters are barely posed and much more attention is paid to countryside backdrops, when present; yet, the jagged, barely inked linework has a charm of its own, and goes along well with the story's homely (in a good way) development.

So, a nice little oddity that I would gladly follow upon, if I could find the other three volumes... which I could, through Pixiv' Booth, if I could be bothered with proxies.

KING PROJECT VOL.01 by VARIOUS

I have a sort of optimistic ambivalence toward illustration anthologies. They can be kind of hit and miss, and I find that most of the time success depends on the willingness of the artists involved to stick with the theme, without necessarily falling back on safe ground - which, in the case of Pixiv artists, usually means sugary bishōjo. Well, unless the theme is bishōjo... a good example of a successful anthology that I recently reviewed was the cozy and nifty Sailorbon, an interesting take on a somewhat unusual theme.

All of these preambles to introduce another awesome themed collection, pooling together a variety of artists from the dark recesses of Pixiv. And the theme is... kings. Yup. King Project vol. 01 (no vol.2 available so far) gathers 41 artists, each one of them offering their illustrated take on the theme of the royal figure. First of all, let's get measurements out of the way: 78 pages, full color A4 format, sturdy and professionally bound.

The contents are, overall, quite impressive, and I'm not just referring to the illustrations. What really makes this collection stand out is that almost every art piece, along with author bio and social links, also features a 'tutorial' kind of page, which shows different stages of drafting, along with the artist's comments. Pretty nifty, especially when one can see that the final piece ends up nothing like the original sketch...

So, something of a collection plus reference guide. Overall, the art quality is in the Pixiv daily rankings ballpark, which is to say, pretty high. There are, of course, more or less elaborate art styles, but every illustration actually feels like a finished piece, something that doesn't always happen in this kind of books. Some highlights are 羽山晃平's demonic tyrant king; ぽん吉's way too funny beaver king; and おつまみ's Turneresque king of dragons.

So, all fine and dandy? well, for the most part. One disappointing note is that the grand majority of the artists really played it too safe thematically, and fell back on the old trope of the fantasy king, ruling over some medieval or renaissance-looking court. There are, in fact, only two illustrations that offer a different take on the 'king' theme: 添田一平's gun wielding queen of the mob; and えだまめ畑's Lovecraftian 1800s monster king.

Still, an excellent themed collection, showcasing some real talent. Well done.

MUJIHAPIX by ムジハ

So, here we are, back to regular-ish updates... or, at least, that's the idea, as much really depends on my finances and Japan Mail's abysmal shipping times.  Got a couple nifty things coming up though, so you might want to stay tuned for more of what this blog is really all about -  dōjinshi.

This one is actually from a fairly well known face, at least if you happen to orbit around Pixiv, Danbooru, and clones of the two. Mujiha's infrequent updates usually end up on Pixiv's top 3, and recently it seems they have also branched into commercial manga, in the form of a web serialization... which I'm actually not that thrilled about, as Mujiha really gives their best in color and full page size.

For now, we'll focus on one of their available artbooks: Mujihapix. Dating from 2014, this one you can actually get your hands on, as it's available through Pixiv's BOOTH service. I snagged a copy, and I have to say that I was impressed by the artbook before even opening it: large A4 format, glossy paper, quality binding, if it wasn't for the slim page count it could easily pass for a commercial release.

As far as content goes, Mujihapix is largely what we've come to expect from high-ranking Pixiv artists: plenty of bishōjo pinups, with some sci-fi and cute mascots thrown in. Most are personal works, but the book also features some covers Mujiha did for the book series 女戦士・フレア伝. There are also a few sketches towards the end. The artbook is full color, structurally hampered only by the fact that one side of each sheet is left blank - effectively halving the actual page count.

So, a bit less meat than one could expect from an already slim artbook, but Mujiha's skills more than make up for it: they have a visual style that is immediately recognizable as their own, especially when it comes to anatomy (sort of a manga style with a more realistic bend) and the abundant use of white space and pastel skintones against colors. As the volume mostly consists of pinups there is less focus on backdrops and environments, which are however paintakingly rendered when present.

So, an excellent collection from an established artist worth keeping an eye on. I will definitely get my hands on Mujihapix 2...

Tears of Nosferatu by 70年式悠久機関

I have the very, very bad habit of buying series out of order. It's not just a manga, or dōjin thing: I've done it as far as I can remember with books, films, and so on. Result, I am flooded with 'volume two' or 'four' of this and that series, with varying degrees of follow-up depending on quality. The dōjinshi I'm reviewing today, lucky volume three (to be fair, it was written in a very, very tiny font...) is one of a series I will definitely seek to complete, considering the material. Keep in mind that the review refers to this volume, as it's the only one in my possession.

Tears of Nosferatu is a four-volume series by circle '70年式悠久機関', sobriquet for a certain Okito Endō (who also happens to have some mainstream published manga to their name). It dates from 2001, and present itself as a high-quality dōjin publication, from the embossed cover to the full-color gatefold. From what I could gather, having started halfway through the story, Tears of Nosferatu is the slice-of-lifeish story of a female vampire, inexplicably named Chocolate, and her retinue of  assorted live-in demonettes and such. Don't be fooled by the 'vampire' tag: there is very little violence, even less blooduscking, and the general threat level is generally pretty low. Think Rozen Maiden, but with demons instead of dolls. Well, there are also dolls, as this volume's story pits Chocolate and friends against a suspicious dollmaker called Werther (who doesn't appear on the character list - instead we get a 'Brams', who doesn't appear at all...).

So, nothing particular innovating when it comes to story and plot. The real selling point of this dōjinshi (and Endō's output in general, from what I can gather) is the artwork: full of detail and flair, it has a wispy, willowy tract that really reminds me of Oyari Ashito, with some added floweryness. A warning thought: there is some borderline non-h loli content. Reader beware.

All in all, an excellent dōjinshi that, unfortunately, I have began halfway through. I'll make sure to pick up the rest, if only for the art.

くらやみの世界 by ツクモイスオ

It's artbook time this week! In spite of what one might guess from my previous reviews, I am actually more of a dōjin manga fan, than a dōjin artbook one: while usually of a higher production quality, the first category tends to be made up of hopeful professional illustrators, which often leads to slick, plastic-y artwork that only goes so far for me; I tend to find more edge in the amateur manga scene, especially when it goes the super-alt way.

The artbook in question, くらやみの世界 by circle Ox/ツクモイスオ, is no exception. As one can easily see from their Pixiv profile, Ox's work pretty much approaches professional quality, possessing that clean, shiny, digitally enhanced polish that is pretty much the professional standard in Japanese illustration (and you can also buy the dōjinshi I'm reviewing on their Booth).

くらやみの世界 , a fairly slim (around 20 pages) artbook from 2016, is split in half between landscape concept art, and character art. Visually and technically, there is very little criticism that can be leveled against Ox's work: they nail the perspective and volumes to a pinpoint, the color palettes are varied (perhaps sometimes a tad bit too chaotic), and the large, two page spread format really makes the artist's fantasy cityscapes justice.

The contents themselves are, however, a bit too... by the numbers. I mean, there's nothing explicitly wrong with Ox's designs; yet, they play really close to the tropes of that generic J-fantasy that, personally, I am not a big fan of. Let's look at the character designs: there's the little dark witch, the human prince, the anthro, the robot... even the landscapes, while well constructed an executed, could thematically come out of whatever SAO clones happened to be the flavor of the week in 2016.

All in all, a very nice display of skill, but I can't help wishing that the artist had pushed the envelope a bit more when it came to the... imagination part. This is really a criticism I could move against most Japanese fantasy illustration today, so I hope Ox doesn't take it personally...

蛇を飼う女 by 胡蝶社

It's been a while, huh? Finally a new batch of purchases has arrived, a rare treat in this period of suffering 33 celsius in front of an oven for six hours a day... Only five dōjinshi, but all of them turned out to be keepers, so I'll probably review each one of them. I might even make a new order post-Comiket, even though my favorite circle isn't putting out anything new this time around.

First of this new batch is a little hidden gem, which I purchased on title and cover alone. 蛇を飼う女 (The woman who keeps a snake, 2003) sports one subdued, yet deliciously creepy cover, and I was instantly won over. Behind the 胡蝶社 circle name hides manga author 武富健治 (Taketomi Kenji), who has published some manga proper, as well as winning a few prizes.

Anyway, 蛇を飼う女  is exactly the kind of not-overt-horror, yet totally creepy story that I happen to totally be into. A young woman keeps a boa constrictor in her city flat, except the snake isn't really hers: it used to belong to her dear friend Kyouko, who died in a car crash. Since then, the young woman (really nothing more than your average Japanese office lady) has been living the life of a hermit, projecting her grief and anxiety onto the pet animal, as a sort of surrogate for her dead friend. An attempt to break out of her shell turns into tragedy, when the pet breaks free and does the irrepairable... or maybe not? 

I noticed that, often, Japanese authors tend to have a very ham-fisted approach to metaphors (might be a cultural thing, who knows), but this is certainly not the case with Taketomi: the parallel between caring for the cumbersome animal, and the elaboration of grief is very well handled throughout, inclunding a spectacular final panel that really tops off the story in the best possibile way. 

Visually, I expected edge in the style of Garo or Ikki, and I wasn't disappointed. The visual style is rough, unpolished, yet extremely vibrant even in black and white. There are anatomical errors and wonly perspectives, but that's more of a part of the alt style, than a fault per-se.

In short, an excellent work from an artist that I'll be digging for from now on. 

Blog not dead yet

That I feel like making a 'blog's not dead' post after a single month of no updates really tells a lot about my OCD...

Truth is, for a while I've been in less than favorable financial waters, a situation that only now is showing some signs of improvement. Therefore, no shipments = no dōjinshi to review. I could write about other stuff but, frankly, I really don't feel like spreading the blog's themes too thin, as others cover some areas far better than I could ever hope to. So, save the occasional off topic, this blog is and will be about original, non-h dōjin.

Long story short, a new order is on the way, so expect more reviews of Japanese stuff that probably not even japanese people know about. Stay tuned.

Record of Lodoss War - 9 DVD set

So, this month I took a break from dōjinshi purchases and invested instead into a long-coveted item: the 9 DVD boxset including the entirety of my favorite anime, Record of Lodoss War - both the OAV and the series proper. The two boxes set comes in its italian version from Yamato video, and it' fairly barebone, as it only contains two slim booklets and basically no extras on the DVDs themselves, but it's got what matters: the 13 episodes OAV, focusing on the adventures of heroic knight Parn and his elf buddy Deedlit; and the 27 episodes full-length series, narrating instead the adventures of young knight Spark as he sets out to save Lodoss from a grim fate...

... or so I used to remember. Rewatching in a binge both series actually made me realize how complex and bizantine the two series' approach is in adapting the source material, a series of seven novels by Ryo Mizuno (I reviewed them here). In my discussion of the novels I generalized, saying that the OAV adpated novels 1 and 3, skipping 2; and that the series adapted 4 and 6-7, skipping five.
In reality, the OAV surely adapts those two novels, but it tacks an ending (evil wizard Vagnard's attempt to corrupt Deedlit so that the goddess Kardis can be reborn) that is actually very similar to that of novel 7. The full-length series, on the other hand, cuts away a few subplots but basically adapts the books above in a rather linear way, also keeping the ending.

While the reason for this strange adaptation loop is anyone's guess, my idea is that, as it often happens with anime adaptations, the OAV was made with no plans for a full fleged series. Therefore, as book 3 leads into 4, but the OAV didn't have enough episodes to carry forward, they simply took the end of book 7, but with the characters of books 1 through 3. Then the series was made and, in order to avoid overlap with the OAV, it started off from volume 4 of the books.

The series themselves are, in general, as awesome as I remember them to be. The OAV is simply amazing, tightly plotted and boasting a rather good design and animation standard. A very unusual, low-key OP, and an amazingly fantasy-like ED - probably one of my favorites ever. The full series shows, of course, its larger budget in its very well animated OP and ED, but suffers of very common late-series fatigue: there is a jarring animation quality drop around the 20-25 episode mark (outsourced to a quick n' cheap Chinese studio?), and then pick up again for the last two episodes. There are also a couple of bizarre continuity errors - for example, body-jumping witch Karla is mentioned as possessing the body of thief Woodchuck, like in the novels; but then, suddenly and with no explanation, appears as a young woman...

Details, of course. The series is still awesome, that kind of epic, no-frills heroic high fantasy that they simply don't make anymore. Just like the novels, highly suggested for those wanting a trip down fantasy's memory lane. There are two more animated series set in the Lodoss universe: I distinctly remember Rune Knight being crap, but I'm actually a bit hazier on Legend of Crystania... might give it a shot.

Italian TV at its (not so) finest

It's recent news that, in its half-assed and misdirected effort to cut down expenses, RAI (basically the Italian version of public broadcast, with the difference that over here it's basically television's big fish instead of the graveyard where programming goes to die... well, it's also that, but still) is about to axe a few of its cable tv channels. Among them RAI Movie (public service's only 24h movie channel) and, even worse, RAI Fiction.

If you've followed me for a while on Twitter, you might have noticed I'm an incorrigible hound when it comes to 80s and 90s italian TV. I'm particularly fond of the format we over here call 'fiction', which really means tv series. They're usually cheap, by the dozen, they features the same carousel of actors over and over, and they tend to be a pretty good mirror of Italy's pop culture as a whole. This article, in loving memory of RAI Fiction's near demise, will comment on a few of my favorites. There's some good stuff from the 2000s as well, but I'll be keeping those aside for the moment.


I Cinque del Quinto Piano

Quintessential italian Tv for the true culture vulture. First aired in 1988, this sit-com features a nameless italian family, and their interactions as they unfold mostly in a single environment - their living room. There's Edoardo, father and editor at a small press; Gisella, former singing talent and now owner of a fashion boutique; Gianfilippo, son and token slacker uni student; Stefania, high schooler interested more in boys and girls over school; and Simone, the youngest son whose main mission is to annoy his older siblings. A fairly typical family from 80s Milan burgeoisie, but there's little politics at stake here: rather, the series focuses on the bizzarre, often surreal interactions between cast members, where the comedy mostly comes from each one's own archetype being pushed to its limits. Comedian Gian Fabio Bosco aside, the series features mostly nobodies, who did very little after this show.

Passioni

For a totally different kind of show, Passioni. Big american family sagas like Beautiful  or The Guiding Light were a huge hit in Italy, and this two-part show (1993) was the country's take on it. Produced by Titanus and Berlusconi Communications (soon-to-be Mediaset), Passioni focuses on the dramas of the Boldano family, and an adulterous event that will change, years later, the lives of all involved. Betrayals, blackmailing, illnesses and bankrupcies abound. Lots of well-known italian actors in this one: Gigi Proietti, Virna Lisi, Lorenzo Flaherty and many others. Notable is the moving title sequence featuring Cocciante's Il Tempo. 

Il Maresciallo Rocca

Now, this one's a classic! While the previous two will be mostly unknown to today's general public, famous Carabiniere Rocca (played by legendary actor Gigi Proietti)'s crime-fighting adventures have become an italian TV cult, often re-aired even on RAI Fiction. Running from 1996 to 2005, the series follows Rocca as he goes through a series of family tragedies, in parallel with criminal-of-the-day storylines that tend to resolve in one or two episodes. While drama abounds, the overall tone is actually fairly light, with comedy provided mostly by Proietti's stereotypical portrayal of a Roman no-nonsense, old fashioned man who gets hopelessly left behind as times change. It also inspired a slew of italian police-themes series, such as Il Capitano or R.I.S.

Un Medico in Famiglia

Another classic. Running from 1998 to 2016, the mammoth tv show follows the adventures of titular public health doctor Lele and his extended clan of sons, daughters, relatives, friends, and colleagues. There is some mild drama (runaway kids, a couple deaths) but overall the tone is as comedic as it gets: of particular note is Lele's father Libero (played by famous italian actor Lino Banfi), an old-fashioned retired train conductor, who finds it harder and harder to cope with his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren's increasingly wild and contemporary lifestyles. Lots of famous faces in this one, including Milena Vukotic, Giulio Scarpati, and Claudia Pandolfi.

This is but a few of the hundreds fictions produced by italian TV over the 80s and 90s - if you want to find out more, I suggest perusing the rather exhaustive wikipedia entry on the subject.

Record of Lodoss War (ロードス島戦記) novels 1-7

So yea, Lodoss War. And not the (in my archaic, unrefined, D&D addled taste) pretty good anime, nor the far less amazing manga. This time it's all about the novels - and yes, they did come first. Even though it's not dōjinshi-themed, I actually meant to finish this writeup for a while, for a number of reasons:

1- It's one of my all-time favorite fantasy series, mostly because it appeals to my very orthodox tastes in fantasy. I like stuff where elves are elves, dwarves are dwarves, evil mages are a dime a dozen, and the knighty guy swings a big sword at a dragon. Sue me.
2- It's basically what fantasy lit was in Japan before that disgraceful isekai nonsense, so yeah, kid, time to see where the shit you're so into came from.
3- As far as I know, Italy is the only country outside Japan (and definitely in the West) where the seven-novels run has been published in its entirety, including the two books that were *not* adapted in the anime series. The French run got up to vol.4 or so, and only the first one is available in English.
4- The covers, while truer to the character descriptions in the novels, are laughably bad. And to think it's a famous Bonelli guy who made them...
5- While the pace, the plotting and the writing belie the story's roots as RPG replays, and Ryo Mizuno is certainly not Tolkien, the series is actually pretty decent.


The Grey Witch 

First volume, which you can actually get your hands on in English. Parn, the token fearless boy who dreams to be a knight, discovers his father's legacy and, after saving his town from goblins and meeting Deedlit the elf, embarks on a journey to stop Karla, a witch from an ancient magical civilization, from unleashing two nations against each other. He mostly fails, by the way. Here the anime follows the novels pretty closely, sometimes down to single scenes: a little more backstory is given to Kastull, the ancient kingdom Karla hails from; and Parn's knightly lineage is explored in slightly more detail.

The Flame Demon

This is one volume that was cut from the anime adaptation, and probably with good reason - not because it's bad, but because it' mostly a sidestory where Karla, now possessing Woodchuck the thief's body, plays a riff in Lupin /Carmen San Diego style, generally travelling around and unleashing ruckus wherever she can. In The Flame Demon, she once again takes advantage of ancient rivalries - a kingdom and a wandering tribe sharing the same patch of desert land - to wreak havoc, while seeking to unleash a powerful ancient djinn of flames on Lodoss.
Little overall arc advancement, except that the desert land that acts as setting is Flaim, the kingdom of king Kashu, who becomes a central character later on, so we get a bit more background on how he became king. Female characters are also slightly more prominent, as Deedlit uses her shaman powers to solve the situation, managing not to look like a complete (though still hot) bimbo; and the queen of the wandering tribe, who does not appear in the anime.

Fire Dragon Mountain pt 1 /pt 2

A Two-volume chapter, it was adapted in its entirety, and the anime follows the story quite faithfully. The forces of Marmo, the evil island kingdom, begin to stir in the form of Vagnard, a dark mage bent of resurrecting the Goddess of Destruction; and Ashram, who follows along on the evil path as a necessary means to save the cursed people of Marmo. This alliance of evil sets out to reclaim five ancient treasure from five dragons all over Lodoss, and it fall on Parn and his team to prevent the catastrophe... which is compounded by the rise of a number of tyrants all over the land, in a free-for-all grab before Lodoss falls into darkness.
As mentioned, story-wise the anime adaptation gives a good idea of the overall plot, and the novel mostly offers more background, flourishes, and details on the world and history of the cursed island of Lodoss. There is a distinct Game of Throne-ish political backstabbing subplot between the various kingdoms that the anime adaptation dropped almost entirely, probably to save runtime and focus instead on the adventure aspect.

The Holy War of Kings

The other volume that, save a few details for continuity, was not adapted into anime. The final two volumes of the series are sort of a 'second season' with different protagonists, which was then adapted in the anime's second series - The Holy War of Kings is, for the most part, a side-adventure bridging the gap between the two. There is some overlap, as some characters that appear in this volume become co-protagonists later on; some that were there in the previous four novels disappear; and some are novel-only (such as the master of the thieves' guild and his righ arm). Evil also makes a sort-of-comeback, as Parn and his friends are pitted against the army of Marmo's newest weapon... some giant that only a certain magic sword can harm. Yay.
Dumb mcguffin aside, more than The Flame Demon, this is the one 'extra' volume I would have included in the anime, as it would have made the protagonist switch from Parn to Spark between series a little less jarring. Same goes for mercenaries Shiiris and Orson, who in the anime just pop out of nowhere with no backstory to be given, details that the book instead covers.

The Holy Knights of Lodoss

Basically the source material for Record of Lodoss War: Chronicle of the Holy Knight (aka second series), which the anime follows quite closely. Spark, a new recruit for the 'good' league led by Kashu against the ever present threat of Marmo (who, through alliances and invasions, has actually managed to snatch away a big chunk of Lodoss for itself), assembles his own merry band of friends (names are irrelevant, just imagine a typical D&D party) and teams up with Parn and Deedlit to stop a double threat: the return of both Ashram (who, by the end, becomes really more of an antihero than anything) and Vagnard, who's basically now a lich and, with the help of Karla, tries to embody the Goddess of Destruction in the vessel of a princess, Nice (or Neese, whichever you prefer).
Especially compared to the still decent anime adaptation, these last two books are... surprisingly deep, and in a philosophical kind of way. There is politicking, with backstabbing both present and foreshadowed; a few very interesting meditations on destiny, predestination, and what it means to accept oneself; and, of course, swordfights. A *lot* more space than in the anime is given to Karla and her backstory, really bringing to the forefront how she embodies the 'end justifies the means' mindset.


So, is it good?

Kind of a moot question, as if you're reading this you probably don't know either Italian nor Japanese, but - if you manage, yes, it is. As the series progresses, Mizuno clearly began to improve both as a writer and as a plotter, gradually moving away from the more monolithic RPG /replay elements, to the point where the last 3-4 volumes are definitely not Tolkien or Weis/Hickman, but definitely no worse than any R.A. Salvatore or Terry Brooks. While the anime adaptations really pared off anything that wasn't action, the novels offer far more than that, fleshing out a fantasy world that could compete with most Western fantasy creations.
In a way, the Lodoss novels are really sort of a time capsule, as they embody what Western fantasy fiction was, in the eyes of a Japanese fan, circa late Eighties - early Nineties: orthodox, close to the canon established by Tolkien and alike, as far removed from isekai bullshit as possible. Even today it eminently stands out as a different, in a way more 'innocent' kind of fantasy, especially compared to overblown, self complacent, 'I would like to write House of Cards but I'm stuck with fantasy' crock like Martin's. Heroes are heroes, evil dudes are evil dudes, elves are magical and hot, dragons hoard treasure. Personal taste, but that's the ride I enjoy. To each one their own.

Note: a few more anime series set in the Lodoss universe followed, Legend of Crystania and Rune Soldier. They are original stories with no basis in any novel, and they are terrible. Avoid.

晴れた日に絶望が見える by あびゅうきょ

While this one is not properly a dōjinshi, it comes from a mangaka I first encountered through their dōjin work, sooo... I arbitrarily decide that it still counts. Plus, in the case of あびゅうきょ, there is definitely a continuity in themes and graphic choices between 'official' and 'self-published' outputs, as they tend to wander around the same handful of bizzarre obsessions - mostly guns, girls, and the otaku world.

晴れた日に絶望が見える is an actual manga, a one-volume thing published through Gentosha Comics, a publishing house mostly (but not exclusively) geared towards the seinen (adult manga) business, in past years through their recently defunct Comic Birz magazine.

晴れた日に絶望が見える (I can see despair on a cloudless day) comes, however, from a far distant past - 2003, to be exact. It's also one of a series, which counts three volumes and goes under the bizzarre title of 影男煉獄シリーズ - something like 'The Shadow Man Purgatory Series'. In reality, each volume, including the first one, is made up of mostly independent one-off stories, accomunated by their shared protagonist: the Shadow Man, a figure covered head to toe in a black drape.

Each story follows more or less the same structure: the Shadow Man embarks on a conversation with a girl he encounters, a conversation that usually turns into a verbal chastisement of the Shadow Man's innumerable shortcomings and faults, as the two wander across landscapes ranging from a destroyed city to an idyllic playground. There is little plot to speak of: the manga's meat is, through the means of dialogue, a Kafkaesque indictment of human nature, with especially pointed retorts against the stereotypical shut-in otaku that, most likely, hides under the shadow man's draperies.

A one-shot is also included, a bizzarre pseudo-historical account of a young girl... who happens to be an ace pilot under the Third Reich. Yeah. In his work, あびゅうきょ is no stranger to fetishization of the seedier aspects of military history, so this weird snippet didn't come as a surprise - you either take it for what it is (and what is it? a tongue-in-cheek joke? actualy historical interest? some bizzarre pastiche) or move on.

Visually, this volume falls in line with あびゅうきょ's usual style: extremely detailed backgrounds, obsessive attention towards the minutiae of military machineries and uniforms, cute girls who tend to be on the stockier side. There is also an aboundant use of unusual perspectives and points of view, including fish-eye lenses.

All in all, another strange trip from the mind of a mangaka who has made weird fixations the pivot of their work. Reccomended if you're into the more bizzarre side of seinen. 

P.S: there is a video trailer for 晴れた日に絶望が見える. You can watch it here.

Super Mystery Magazine MU

As some of you might (but probably most of you don't) know, I am quite the fan of the paranormal - an interest that used to be a bit more intense a few years back, when I was one of those people who actually read through the 'original' UFO documents with a magnifying glass, searching for the truth. Of course, while I hardly vouch for the belief that UFOs are having a snack among us, or that the Mothman might how up at my doorstep for a coffee, I happen to particularly enjoy the paraphernalia that comes along with the paranormal research culture. Mash that up with my interest in Japanese culture and media (which is not itself stranger to the weird, from Mishima's Utsukushii Hoshi to Aum Shinrikyo), and you get, along with my usual dōjin fare, Super Mystery Magazine MU.

And it's a vintage one, too. April 1987, to be exact. The magazine itself is a bulky, disposable manga-style monthly; printed, save for a few advertisements, on cheap telephone book-like paper. The cover hits a certain aesthetics, though from a design point of view it's a veritable disaster. At first glance I thought it was an instruction manual...

For the most part the contents are, as you would expect, pure madness. We run the gamut from occult WWII alternate history, instructions on hand reading, an article on feral children, and a whole lot of those airbrushy illustrations that used to grace the covers of stuff like Omni in the west. There is also a cute 'reader submitted drawings' page...

As I mentioned, most advertisements are in color, and they are ridiculous. Ever wanted your own Bio-Pit Alpha / Theta waves generator? now you got it, and in the cleverly new-age pyramid format. How about a Hiranya-brand UFO detector (a company that, by the way, seems to have tanked decades ago)? Mind-reading glasses? Craziness abunds, usually accompanied by creepy imagery right out of the Eighties book of tricks. Curiously, the magazine also holds a 'literature' section - which, in the issue I have, is dedicated to H.P. Lovecraft. There is a bio, a dossier, and even a full translation of 'The Statement of Randolph Carter'.

So, yet another oddity for the vault. Some of the Japanese is still above my grasp, but the visuals and aesthetics alone probably warrant publishing a few more issues.

#Hot Coffee by Yume No Kakera

It's kind of difficult to gauge what constitutes an 'oldie' in the dōjin world. The thing I'm reviewing today, for example, date from 2005 - which is more than thirteen years ago, a whole era in the typical life cycle of a dōjin circle. Sure, when I was over in Japan there was stuff from the Ninetie and even the Eighties on display - with an appropriate price tag. On the other hand, my personal experience tells me that, when it comes to dōjinshi shopping, unless I get lucky anything older than two or three years is pretty much lost to history. Long story short, I like digging up old stuff - and, if you are like me, you might want to keep an eye for the next review, which will feature a funny little thing from 1987 (!).

Today, however, we're reviewing Hot Coffee, a very short dōjinshi by circle ユメノカケラ. It's a one-person circle, behind which hides a certain 藤田秀俊 (Fujita Hidetoshi), who is still active as of 2018, although with a very different visual style and... umm, let's say 'themes'. I'll let you figure it out by his current Pixiv page. Hot Coffee is a charming, black and white manga which tells, in a mere twelve pages, a cute little love story between a boy and a girl, who happen to bond over a shared love of... hot coffee. Yup, that terrible tasting Boss cans that you get from vending machines all over Japan. Could never stomach that thing, I was always more of a Melon Soda type of guy.

Unrequited love.

Story wise, we're in entirely familiar territory, that kind of flimsy yet timeless manga fare that is the sefest bet when it comes to capturing the soft-hearted reader like I am. There are fruitless waits by the vending machine; desperation when finding out the significant other might have a different crush; kissing and making up while guzzling hot coffee. Nothing new, really.
Visually, well... you can tell, especially comparing with what the artist is up to now, that Hot Coffee is an early work. Still, while the graphic style and tract are a bit rickety at times, they go a long way making the characters charming and apt to convey their emotions even without speech. Backgrounds are understandably kept to a minimum, anatomy is mostly spot-on, and there a are a couple more daring visual choice to spice it all up. By the way, in case you're wondering, the text pattern on the cover is an entirely unrelated lorem ipsum, about Trump and hi yacht. Yeah...

All in all, a nice and little amateur work that doesn't break new ground mostly because it doesn't mean to. Good stuff.

British by MANAT

I hate isekai. I really, really do. It's probably my least favorite genre in contemporary Japanese fiction: from the absurdly overhyped  Sword Art Online, to the slew of 'guy dies then ends up in a fantasy world' shlock published nowadays by Ascii and friends, there isn't a single work - be it anime, manga or novels, that managed to convince me. It's wish fulfillment fantasies made bare, usually carried by a vehicle of horrid, second-rate fantasy that makes Ryo Mizuno look like avantgarde.

You can imagine my disappointment when I found out that British, a dōjinshi I bought solely on its lolita-toting cover, was actually an isekai. Actually a single, slim episode of an isekai. And not a very good one either. Yeah. The cheap price was pretty much the only upside - I think I paid 200 yen or something like that.

So no gothic lolita babes in this brochure by MANAT (actually the circle name of illustrator Tomozo Kaoru), but the premises the genre has gotten us so used to. Some guy is in love with a girl on the swimming team, but then he dies (surprise surprise) and his spirit ends up in some kind of parallel dimension, where a bimbo dressed like Alice in Wonderland has to fight chibi monsters and... attend school.

Aaand that's it. British is slim even by dōjin standards: twelve black and white pages, plus a three-lines postscript. Apparently it's part of a series, which doesn't really address the main issue: why endlessly fraction already weak stories in bite-sized slices that can't stand on their own?
Things are a bit better on the visual side. Tomozo Kaoru is a competent draftsman, so proportions are usually spot-on and the paneling clear and readable. Nothing stellar, as contemporary manga has set pretty high standards for visuals and graphic design, but it' serviceable.

Aside for a handful of  dōjinshi, Tomozo Kaoru has illustrated one of Eiji Otsuka's weakest works, as well as their own 'group fo people hunts down monster borne out of humans' series which I'm never going to read, as that's probably my second least favorite genre after isekai. All in all an unfortunate purchase from a circle I'm unlikely to keep following.

Atelier Third

I was about to review Yoshitomi Akihito's excellent 'Unrecorded Works', since I've already branched outside dōjin in the past... but I realized it's been fully scanlated already, so just take my word and go read it. Instead, I'll be reviewing a magazine issue. Yeah.

One of the things that I kind of expected, yet still surprised me when I was over in Tokyo and Kyoto, was the sheer number of commercial art galleries. These big Japanese cities have been, and still are, a flowerbed of ephemeral trends and micro-cultures (for the mainstream take on this you can pick up any FRUiTS back issue, take a look at Tokyo Fashion, or even watch a few Kawai.i International episodes - very mainstream sources, but sometimes they do strike gold). I even ended up, more or less by mistake, in the mid of a Yasuto Sasada vernissage, artist included. I have a print of his in my house too, by the way.

Published ephemera in the field of Japanese contemporary art (subculture-oriented, of course) is kind of difficult to get a hold of, so I usually buy mine secondhand. I've only recently become acquainted with Talking Heads: released by art publisher Atelier Third, this magazine straddles the line between ephemeral and collectible, as each issue is themed; fairly beefy (almost 200 pages on average); and professionally glue-bound. Topic vary but usually focus on the intersection between fine/ commercial arts, fashion, and that peculiar horror-meets-kawaii aesthetics that has been dominating japanese subculture for... pretty much decades now.

Each issue follows an anthology format, with about a dozen artists featured. Photographers are usually reserved the twenty or so color pages at the beginning and middle of the issue, while illustrators, manga and essays take up the bulk of the b&w pages. Contents are usually very NSFW: issue 32, for example, features a few bondage artists, as well as guro illustrators. I tend to enjoy that kind of fringe-themed artwork, so generally the contents of Talking Heads are right up my alley. While images dominate, the publication is not beginner friendly language-wise, and there are a few fairly lenghty essays collected toward the end of each issue.

Atelier Third is also worth exploring in its own right, as its range of publications has a lot to offer, to those into the darker side of Japan's alt culture: a slew of monographies, slightly more mainstream art periodicals (the very interesting ExtrART, for example), and the horror/dark fantasy short story quarterly Night Land. A publisher worth keeping an eye on.

BrownS by ニリツハイハン

While I steer clear of openly H dōjinshi, which I find not only in poor taste but also often shoddy in layout and execution (I mean, I really don't get how an ahegao with a mess of speedlines around it could ever be erotic...), I occasionally purchase works that conjugate high production values, or an interesting visual style, with... umm, let's be generous and say, 'my personal preferences'. A case in point is the short dōjinshi I'll be reviewing this time around, which features the bullseye combination of tanned skin and short, blonde hair. Blue eyes optional, I'm not that picky*.

BrownS by ニリツ is an illustration book that, while a bit short on the page count, make up for it with excellent production values: large A4 format, full color, nice glossy paper. Each illustration is a pinup, focusing on shōjo who conjugate tanned skin tones with a variety of other desirable traits - flaxed hair, provocative swimsuits, and so on.

The subject matter, in the context of Japanese anime-style illustration, is of course as trite as it gets: in these cases, it's usually the craftsmanship that makes all the difference, and Nilitsu has plenty of skill to show. Often entirely devoid of backgrounds (though, where they are present, they are of very good design and execution), the illustrator focuses solely on the human form, which conforms to a manga aesthetics but with the added values of a keen eye for complementary color combinations; and a strong sense of shading and chiaroscuro. Every image is also accompanied by a short description detailing the creation process, and a few rough sketches are provided at the end of the book. As I mentioned, while there are a few ecchi pinups, nothing really forays into H proper.

With its only flaw being the very short page count, BrownS is a nice addition to my collection of Pixiv artists' books, and  sign that Nilitsu is someone to keep an eye on - while the subject matter is certainly not revolutionary, it's all in the execution, and they have that figured out.

*Coincidentally, I've never been in a relationship with a blonde. What a waste.