Book-It 'o11! Book #50
The Fifty Books Challenge, year three! (Years one and two, just in case you're curious.) This was a library request.
Title: Bunny Drop, Vol. 1 by Yumi Unita, translated by Kaori Inoue
Details: Copyright 2006, Shodensha Publishing Company; translation copyright 2010, Hachette Book Group Inc
Synopsis (By Way of Back Cover): "Going home for his grandfather's funeral, thirty-year-old bachelor Daikichi is floored to discover that the old man had an illegitimate child with a younger lover! The rest of his family is equally shocked and also embarrassed by this surprise development, and not one of them wants anything to do with the silent little girl, Rin. In a fit of angry spontaneity, Daikichi decides to take her in himself! But will living with this overgrown teenager of a man help Rin come out of her shell? And hang on, won't this turn of events spell doom for Daikichi's love life?!
Don't you think this world is better than you expected?"
Why I Wanted to Read It: In my fevered search for more graphic novels from my local library, I stumbled across this. Curious, and having never read a proper manga, I thought I'd give it a try, despite the kind of cliched premise.
How I Liked It: While a novice in the world of manga, the translator bends over backwards to make the series understandable to a non-Japanese audience without changing the story. Lettering on signs, books, and packaging are not only translated, so is the cartooned onomatopoeia (I kind of like the fact I know two Japanese words for "sigh"). Aside from the literal translations, the cultural is also decoded with a glossary of slang terms, traditional dishes, pop culture references, and more. The author employs a somewhat surprising amount of generational humor (Daikichi ponders the longevity of "the Famicon generation" to which he belongs, referring to the Nintendo Entertainment System's release in 1983 under the name "Family Computer" or "Famicom" in Japan), at least to this (delightedly interested in cultural anthropology) foreigner.
The premise is cliched, sure (the man-child being raised as he's raising a child, fish-out-of-water), but the characters, most importantly the two central, are layered and endearing. The author keeps the development slow but sure and as Rin and Daikichi bond, it feels genuine.
The artwork is at times staggeringly beautiful in its simplicity. The lurch of Daikichi's stylish pants bunched on his tall frame, the perpetual spiky tangle of his hair, spartan streets and cityscapes, Rin's wisps of hair as she tucks her head down, the surprisingly descriptive shapes of the children's mouths, the fretful hunch of Daikichi's mother's shoulders; all are transformed into high art and it only improves as the book progresses.
The story isn't without its flaws, of course. Occasionally the main character's awkward social stumblings aren't as consistent as they should be and Daikichi's interactions with his coworkers especially seem to be a little off, as though we're missing a few panels of action (of course, we are, but it's the author's job to offer us a sense of the relationships we don't see for brevity's sake for the story). But the author seems to find footing and cements characters more strongly as the book progresses.
The story is engaging, entertaining, and fiercely compelling (I was surprised at how quickly I went through the book) and the art is gorgeous. I'm not sure where this collection ranks with manga fans (although it's apparently well-received and popular enough to have spawned a television show as well as a live-action movie), but it's clearly got cross-over appeal as a coming-of-age story.
Notable: Something I found slightly amusing from the translation occurs when Daikichi is trying to pick out clothes for Rin for the first time (and is having as much trouble as you'd expect):
“Page 39
One size fits all vs. wan: Daikichi mistakes the first bit of "one size fits all" for "wan", which is the Japanese equivalent of "woof", hence the picture of the dog [on the shirt]. "One" and "wan" are pronounced alike in Japanese.”
It just seems like one of those weird, funny cultural coincidences.
Title: Bunny Drop, Vol. 1 by Yumi Unita, translated by Kaori Inoue
Details: Copyright 2006, Shodensha Publishing Company; translation copyright 2010, Hachette Book Group Inc
Synopsis (By Way of Back Cover): "Going home for his grandfather's funeral, thirty-year-old bachelor Daikichi is floored to discover that the old man had an illegitimate child with a younger lover! The rest of his family is equally shocked and also embarrassed by this surprise development, and not one of them wants anything to do with the silent little girl, Rin. In a fit of angry spontaneity, Daikichi decides to take her in himself! But will living with this overgrown teenager of a man help Rin come out of her shell? And hang on, won't this turn of events spell doom for Daikichi's love life?!
Don't you think this world is better than you expected?"
Why I Wanted to Read It: In my fevered search for more graphic novels from my local library, I stumbled across this. Curious, and having never read a proper manga, I thought I'd give it a try, despite the kind of cliched premise.
How I Liked It: While a novice in the world of manga, the translator bends over backwards to make the series understandable to a non-Japanese audience without changing the story. Lettering on signs, books, and packaging are not only translated, so is the cartooned onomatopoeia (I kind of like the fact I know two Japanese words for "sigh"). Aside from the literal translations, the cultural is also decoded with a glossary of slang terms, traditional dishes, pop culture references, and more. The author employs a somewhat surprising amount of generational humor (Daikichi ponders the longevity of "the Famicon generation" to which he belongs, referring to the Nintendo Entertainment System's release in 1983 under the name "Family Computer" or "Famicom" in Japan), at least to this (delightedly interested in cultural anthropology) foreigner.
The premise is cliched, sure (the man-child being raised as he's raising a child, fish-out-of-water), but the characters, most importantly the two central, are layered and endearing. The author keeps the development slow but sure and as Rin and Daikichi bond, it feels genuine.
The artwork is at times staggeringly beautiful in its simplicity. The lurch of Daikichi's stylish pants bunched on his tall frame, the perpetual spiky tangle of his hair, spartan streets and cityscapes, Rin's wisps of hair as she tucks her head down, the surprisingly descriptive shapes of the children's mouths, the fretful hunch of Daikichi's mother's shoulders; all are transformed into high art and it only improves as the book progresses.
The story isn't without its flaws, of course. Occasionally the main character's awkward social stumblings aren't as consistent as they should be and Daikichi's interactions with his coworkers especially seem to be a little off, as though we're missing a few panels of action (of course, we are, but it's the author's job to offer us a sense of the relationships we don't see for brevity's sake for the story). But the author seems to find footing and cements characters more strongly as the book progresses.
The story is engaging, entertaining, and fiercely compelling (I was surprised at how quickly I went through the book) and the art is gorgeous. I'm not sure where this collection ranks with manga fans (although it's apparently well-received and popular enough to have spawned a television show as well as a live-action movie), but it's clearly got cross-over appeal as a coming-of-age story.
Notable: Something I found slightly amusing from the translation occurs when Daikichi is trying to pick out clothes for Rin for the first time (and is having as much trouble as you'd expect):
“Page 39
One size fits all vs. wan: Daikichi mistakes the first bit of "one size fits all" for "wan", which is the Japanese equivalent of "woof", hence the picture of the dog [on the shirt]. "One" and "wan" are pronounced alike in Japanese.”
It just seems like one of those weird, funny cultural coincidences.