Do you know how unicorns got their horns?
A very cute and magical children's picture book. Like a mixture of 'Where the Wild Things Are' (the little girl June is imaginative and wears a white bunny type costume and goes out exploring into the wild, only here it's more literal), a light pinch of 'The Tea Dragon Society', and a kids' fairy tale, in a good sense.
A forest, a "magic wand", a treehouse, little flying horses, ice cream, and oh yes, unicorns - what more could a child want? The art is delightful and precious.
And June's parents are total hippies. It's great.
Final Score: 4/5
Saturday, 15 February 2020
Sunday, 9 February 2020
Graphic Novel Review - 'Shadow of the Batgirl' by Sarah Kuhn (Writer), Nicole Goux (Artist)
'Shadow of the Batgirl' is a YA graphic novel introduction to Cassandra Cain to mainstream audiences, similar to DC Ink titles such as 'Teen Titans: Raven', and 'Harley Quinn: Breaking Glass'.
The graphic novel is short, quiet and understated, but a great coming of age tale for Cassandra Cain. She is a teenage assassin trained from birth by her criminal father to be nothing but a killing machine, until one night, the horror of what she's doing comes crashing into her and turns her whole world upside down; in the form of one of her dying victims saying the word "Daughter" with fear and love in his eyes. "Daughter" is one of the very few words Cassandra understands - she was raised to know and interpret body language, not spoken and written language - or she thought she did. Her own father never said "Daughter" with love and care.
Confused, heartbroken and frightened, Cassandra runs away from the life of an assassin and organised crime. She ends up in a restaurant owned by an awesome, old Asian lady named Jackie (it's great that an Asian heroine has an Asian female mentor), and then she lives in secret in a library, where she tries to figure out who she is now, and if she can ever get away from who she was before.
By viewing the wheelchair bound Barbara Gordon teaching kids creative writing in a library circle, Cassandra learns to speak, read, and write. She decides she wants to be a hero, like Batgirl, a favourite topic of Babs', a hero who has mysteriously disappeared.
Both Barbara and Jackie become mentors and mother figures to this young girl who is new to the world. Cass is emerging from her father's dark, violent, loveless world a kindhearted if naive teen vigilante. Starting out small, in the library Cass will act to try to make her home a better place. In her hiding place and sanctuary in the library, she keeps books, newspaper articles, and a mouse she was going to kill (it is a symbol and reflection of herself, and Jackie calls her "little mouse"). She also experiences first love with a boy with his own dreams to chase, who also wishes to be who he wants, away from his parents' expectations.
But with all this newfound comfort, reeducation, and friendships and family, Cassandra's evil father is out there in Gotham, waiting for her to slip up and show herself, and she knows it. She panics, and may start hurting people again, and distancing herself away from them again, in the panic of her past...
'Shadow of the Batgirl' is a fresh take on Cassandra Cain's origin and how she came to be the new Batgirl. How wonderful that she is the hero of her own story again after many years! Author Sarah Kuhn (she of 'Heroine Complex' and 'I Love You So Mochi' fame) aimed to make an Asian girl the heroine and focal point in a story that is hers, and she succeeded. To date this is one of my favourite interpretations of Cassandra Cain's character.
Cass is tragic, withdrawn, secluded, yet kind of adorable and sweet in how hard she tries to be a good person, in defiance of how she was raised. She is a child - lithe, petite and nimble - looking at the world through new, untainted and un-brainwashed eyes. Cassandra is an abused, inhumanely sheltered and inexperienced teen seeking redemption after her traumatic, guilt-fuelled past.
Barbara Gordon in this story is more lighthearted and... I don't know, sillier, than what I'm used to. Odd given her backstory. But I guess a positive and nonetheless human attitude is laudable disability rep, and Babs gets to be active and present in most action scenes (how she keeps appearing in upper floors of buildings without elevators in sight, or even how she enters the library each day without ramps in sight, on the other hand...). Barbara is a gadget and techno geek, who creates a criminal tracking app called Oracle. Jackie is great and three dimensional, too, and she can fight! She can protect herself. Spoilers, but no one is ever a damsel in distress in this story - yey!
'Shadow of the Batgirl' contains exceptional diversity rep. However, there is no overt LBGTQA rep (I suspect a hint about Jackie, though, in a throwaway line about her passionate first kiss), and the book overall, as I've said, is a little too short. I want more of Cassandra Cain as Batgirl in her new costume, and not just in one panel at the end, darnit!
It can be read as slightly juvenile, but not simple. It explores a lot about Cass's character - as a case study and a coming of age journey, that's almost mundane when compared to the journeys of other DC heroes, and of other Gotham Bat family member's backstories, but that's not a bad thing. It's refreshing and, in a strange yet sensible and understandable angle, relatable.
Young girls are sure to fall in love with Cass, and so will love 'Shadow of the Batgirl'.
In addition, the artwork is cute, reminiscent of Noelle Stevenson.
Love too that it is primarily set in a library! And in a Chinese restaurant!
It's also worth noting that I read this comic shortly after seeing the new 'Birds of Prey' movie, which also features an alternative - though much more loosely adapted - interpretation of Cassandra Cain. In the film she isn't an assassin, but a foster kid and pickpocket, and she doesn't become Batgirl, who apparently does not and never has existed in the DC cinematic universe. They'd better fix this soon or else. Anyway, I'm glad that this young Asian heroine is receiving the recognition she deserves in the mainstream, with different reinventions and takes to her character.
Final Score: 4/5
The graphic novel is short, quiet and understated, but a great coming of age tale for Cassandra Cain. She is a teenage assassin trained from birth by her criminal father to be nothing but a killing machine, until one night, the horror of what she's doing comes crashing into her and turns her whole world upside down; in the form of one of her dying victims saying the word "Daughter" with fear and love in his eyes. "Daughter" is one of the very few words Cassandra understands - she was raised to know and interpret body language, not spoken and written language - or she thought she did. Her own father never said "Daughter" with love and care.
Confused, heartbroken and frightened, Cassandra runs away from the life of an assassin and organised crime. She ends up in a restaurant owned by an awesome, old Asian lady named Jackie (it's great that an Asian heroine has an Asian female mentor), and then she lives in secret in a library, where she tries to figure out who she is now, and if she can ever get away from who she was before.
By viewing the wheelchair bound Barbara Gordon teaching kids creative writing in a library circle, Cassandra learns to speak, read, and write. She decides she wants to be a hero, like Batgirl, a favourite topic of Babs', a hero who has mysteriously disappeared.
Both Barbara and Jackie become mentors and mother figures to this young girl who is new to the world. Cass is emerging from her father's dark, violent, loveless world a kindhearted if naive teen vigilante. Starting out small, in the library Cass will act to try to make her home a better place. In her hiding place and sanctuary in the library, she keeps books, newspaper articles, and a mouse she was going to kill (it is a symbol and reflection of herself, and Jackie calls her "little mouse"). She also experiences first love with a boy with his own dreams to chase, who also wishes to be who he wants, away from his parents' expectations.
But with all this newfound comfort, reeducation, and friendships and family, Cassandra's evil father is out there in Gotham, waiting for her to slip up and show herself, and she knows it. She panics, and may start hurting people again, and distancing herself away from them again, in the panic of her past...
'Shadow of the Batgirl' is a fresh take on Cassandra Cain's origin and how she came to be the new Batgirl. How wonderful that she is the hero of her own story again after many years! Author Sarah Kuhn (she of 'Heroine Complex' and 'I Love You So Mochi' fame) aimed to make an Asian girl the heroine and focal point in a story that is hers, and she succeeded. To date this is one of my favourite interpretations of Cassandra Cain's character.
Cass is tragic, withdrawn, secluded, yet kind of adorable and sweet in how hard she tries to be a good person, in defiance of how she was raised. She is a child - lithe, petite and nimble - looking at the world through new, untainted and un-brainwashed eyes. Cassandra is an abused, inhumanely sheltered and inexperienced teen seeking redemption after her traumatic, guilt-fuelled past.
Barbara Gordon in this story is more lighthearted and... I don't know, sillier, than what I'm used to. Odd given her backstory. But I guess a positive and nonetheless human attitude is laudable disability rep, and Babs gets to be active and present in most action scenes (how she keeps appearing in upper floors of buildings without elevators in sight, or even how she enters the library each day without ramps in sight, on the other hand...). Barbara is a gadget and techno geek, who creates a criminal tracking app called Oracle. Jackie is great and three dimensional, too, and she can fight! She can protect herself. Spoilers, but no one is ever a damsel in distress in this story - yey!
'Shadow of the Batgirl' contains exceptional diversity rep. However, there is no overt LBGTQA rep (I suspect a hint about Jackie, though, in a throwaway line about her passionate first kiss), and the book overall, as I've said, is a little too short. I want more of Cassandra Cain as Batgirl in her new costume, and not just in one panel at the end, darnit!
It can be read as slightly juvenile, but not simple. It explores a lot about Cass's character - as a case study and a coming of age journey, that's almost mundane when compared to the journeys of other DC heroes, and of other Gotham Bat family member's backstories, but that's not a bad thing. It's refreshing and, in a strange yet sensible and understandable angle, relatable.
Young girls are sure to fall in love with Cass, and so will love 'Shadow of the Batgirl'.
In addition, the artwork is cute, reminiscent of Noelle Stevenson.
Love too that it is primarily set in a library! And in a Chinese restaurant!
It's also worth noting that I read this comic shortly after seeing the new 'Birds of Prey' movie, which also features an alternative - though much more loosely adapted - interpretation of Cassandra Cain. In the film she isn't an assassin, but a foster kid and pickpocket, and she doesn't become Batgirl, who apparently does not and never has existed in the DC cinematic universe. They'd better fix this soon or else. Anyway, I'm glad that this young Asian heroine is receiving the recognition she deserves in the mainstream, with different reinventions and takes to her character.
Final Score: 4/5
Book Review - 'Reverie' by Ryan La Sala
2022 EDIT: Well, I'm majorly embarrassed. By my original review and by my possibly high self who wrote it.
'Reverie' has an absolutely amazing premise, and it is unapologetically queer AF. The author had rainbow rivers of imagination, passion and ambition, there is no denying that.
But on the second read...from the first two pages, I knew it wasn't going to connect with me again, or make me feel in any way magical. Beforehand, I'd forgotten about nearly everything from the first read, and maybe that was for the best.
Kane, the amnesiac gay teen protagonist, has a younger sister, Sophia, and she is a colossal arsehole. In fact, EVERYONE is an arsehole. Cartoonishly so. Everyone is vindictive, mean, spiteful, deceitful, manipulative, thoughtless, selfish, self-absorbed, annoying, demanding, and beyond callous. And incredibly stupid. I know they're teenagers, but jeeeeezus!. And why do Kane's so-called loved ones keep throwing hard things at the traumatised, confused, amnesiac teen? Why do they expect so much out of Kane, a vulnerable victim? Do they want to keep him in the dark or don't they? Are they protecting him or aren't they? And why do they overreact and get violent towards him even when it's completely unnecessary? Who are these people? How are they friends? How and why do they possibly trust one another? I wouldn't want to spend five minutes in their company, much less read a whole 400 page book about them!
Kane himself isn't much better. One example of douchey-ness is blithely asserting that someone he barely knows isn't a virgin - he actually says "you're not a virgin" (page 119) to that person's face (it isn't better in context, and yes, the person is a girl). How the fuck would he know? And judgey much?
Poesy - reality-bending-and-thieving sorceress, teacup-and-ring witch, and drag extraordinaire - is still a memorable, exceptional villain. Though there is the issue of the only non-cis character in the story - who is never referred to as genderfluid or anything like that, but just a drag queen, whose pronouns in the third person narrative get changed at random - being the villain to begin with; even among the other, mostly queer cast.
To be honest, a lot of the time I couldn't tell who is meant to be a hero and who is meant to be evil, anyway; not because of any intrigue or the mystery element, but because, as I've stated, EVERYONE IS AN ARSEHOLE! They're horrible and I hate them. Their actions and motivations mostly make no sense, too. They're jarring and baffling, and widen the plot holes.
Kane's parents seem to be the only genuinely warm, caring, funny, and halfway decent people in the book, aside from being subjected to the typical parents-conveniently-absent-from-plot YA trope. But the author clearly didn't care about them much, and they're hardly present. They're not even plot devices, they're just there (or not, as is the case). Shame.
There are blatant plot and character contrivances in 'Reverie' as well, and the dialogue is unnatural, cold and full of infodumps. Therein contains the ever-so not-tired and why isn't this dead yet cliché of protagonist-just-happens-to-stumble-upon-and-overhear-and-eavesdrop-over-secretive-characters-at-the-exact-right-time-as-they-tell-each-other-what-they-should-already-know-but-give-away-plot-points-anyway-for-protagonist's/audience's-sake. Everything happens far too conveniently.
Also, for such a magical and creative book about LBGTQ teens being themselves and learning to love themselves in both awful reality and in imagined worlds, the tone is cutting, miserable and meanspirited. I blame the characters more than the mediocre writing attempt to create such lush, awesome worlds. I agree with some other reviewers that the worldbuilding could have used a little more work.
Read these Goodreads reviews that align with my further thoughts on 'Reverie': Click Here, Here, and Here.
While some ideas, elements and themes of 'Reverie' remain excellent, I'm almost tempted to strike out or delete the entirety of my first review. So cringe. But I'll leave it, out of honesty, and preserving the past to learn from mistakes to avoid repeating them in the future.
Seriously, was I high?
Final Score: 3/5
Original Review:
I won't say much about 'Reverie'. I can't, since that would spoil the magic for those who haven't read it.
It's...terrific. A luscious, creative, magical experience.
You'll wish you could live in it, and that it could be made into a movie, which would suit it perfectly.
'Reverie' is a fantasy novel where gay people are front and center and are the heroes. It's full of (active) imagination, mystery, angst, loneliness, teamwork, rainbows, different fantasy worlds, deconstructions of genre tropes, great twists and turns in every thrilling chapter, wants, hopes, dreams, animals, arts and crafts, sugary treats, and fantasy powers given to teenagers - who are insecure outsiders and/or are hiding their true selves in a broken, failed reality that doesn't love them for who they are.
Each character is fantastically realised, three dimensional, and a non-cliché; the world building (to every world that applies) is solid and gorgeously detailed; and even though fantasies and making up your own happy worlds are major themes in the book, the danger in these worlds - these reveries, or etheria - is real for our self conscious and lucid heroes.
It really is hard to believe that 'Reverie' is a debut novel. Ryan La Sala is king and queen combined.
This exciting, bold, daring and hugely creative treasure tome is like 'Inception' meets 'Puella Magi Madoka Magica', and it references 'Sailor Moon' and 'The Legend of Korra' (Roald Dahl's 'The Witches' is also a part of the story as a physical motif). Practically every fantasy trope is subverted and tweaked; used in a unique, pragmatic, dynamic, and even tragic way. And in fabulously gay ways.
And the shapeshifter/mentor/antagonist, the symbol of true expression and a mirror to the protagonist, is a proud drag queen.
'Reverie' - An LBGTQ and feminist fantasy pioneer. To say it is groundbreaking and a human, emotional triumph is an understatement. This big kaleidoscopic, astronomical icing cake of a book can be read in a day. The characters are not always likeable, and some relationships (main and on the side) aren't developed well or feel organic, but that's reality: Reality for imperfect teens in the imperfect real world and in multiple fantasy worlds of other people's making. For all the angst and mystery, the author makes sure to add in a sense of humour for catharsis as well.
Maybe together the small group of disadvantaged youths can help change reality so that some aspects of fantasy and wish fulfilment can come true, little by little, with or without magic.
Strongly, wholeheartedly recommended.
Final Score: 4/5
'Reverie' has an absolutely amazing premise, and it is unapologetically queer AF. The author had rainbow rivers of imagination, passion and ambition, there is no denying that.
But on the second read...from the first two pages, I knew it wasn't going to connect with me again, or make me feel in any way magical. Beforehand, I'd forgotten about nearly everything from the first read, and maybe that was for the best.
Kane, the amnesiac gay teen protagonist, has a younger sister, Sophia, and she is a colossal arsehole. In fact, EVERYONE is an arsehole. Cartoonishly so. Everyone is vindictive, mean, spiteful, deceitful, manipulative, thoughtless, selfish, self-absorbed, annoying, demanding, and beyond callous. And incredibly stupid. I know they're teenagers, but jeeeeezus!. And why do Kane's so-called loved ones keep throwing hard things at the traumatised, confused, amnesiac teen? Why do they expect so much out of Kane, a vulnerable victim? Do they want to keep him in the dark or don't they? Are they protecting him or aren't they? And why do they overreact and get violent towards him even when it's completely unnecessary? Who are these people? How are they friends? How and why do they possibly trust one another? I wouldn't want to spend five minutes in their company, much less read a whole 400 page book about them!
Kane himself isn't much better. One example of douchey-ness is blithely asserting that someone he barely knows isn't a virgin - he actually says "you're not a virgin" (page 119) to that person's face (it isn't better in context, and yes, the person is a girl). How the fuck would he know? And judgey much?
Poesy - reality-bending-and-thieving sorceress, teacup-and-ring witch, and drag extraordinaire - is still a memorable, exceptional villain. Though there is the issue of the only non-cis character in the story - who is never referred to as genderfluid or anything like that, but just a drag queen, whose pronouns in the third person narrative get changed at random - being the villain to begin with; even among the other, mostly queer cast.
To be honest, a lot of the time I couldn't tell who is meant to be a hero and who is meant to be evil, anyway; not because of any intrigue or the mystery element, but because, as I've stated, EVERYONE IS AN ARSEHOLE! They're horrible and I hate them. Their actions and motivations mostly make no sense, too. They're jarring and baffling, and widen the plot holes.
Kane's parents seem to be the only genuinely warm, caring, funny, and halfway decent people in the book, aside from being subjected to the typical parents-conveniently-absent-from-plot YA trope. But the author clearly didn't care about them much, and they're hardly present. They're not even plot devices, they're just there (or not, as is the case). Shame.
There are blatant plot and character contrivances in 'Reverie' as well, and the dialogue is unnatural, cold and full of infodumps. Therein contains the ever-so not-tired and why isn't this dead yet cliché of protagonist-just-happens-to-stumble-upon-and-overhear-and-eavesdrop-over-secretive-characters-at-the-exact-right-time-as-they-tell-each-other-what-they-should-already-know-but-give-away-plot-points-anyway-for-protagonist's/audience's-sake. Everything happens far too conveniently.
Also, for such a magical and creative book about LBGTQ teens being themselves and learning to love themselves in both awful reality and in imagined worlds, the tone is cutting, miserable and meanspirited. I blame the characters more than the mediocre writing attempt to create such lush, awesome worlds. I agree with some other reviewers that the worldbuilding could have used a little more work.
Read these Goodreads reviews that align with my further thoughts on 'Reverie': Click Here, Here, and Here.
While some ideas, elements and themes of 'Reverie' remain excellent, I'm almost tempted to strike out or delete the entirety of my first review. So cringe. But I'll leave it, out of honesty, and preserving the past to learn from mistakes to avoid repeating them in the future.
Seriously, was I high?
Final Score: 3/5
Original Review:
I won't say much about 'Reverie'. I can't, since that would spoil the magic for those who haven't read it.
It's...terrific. A luscious, creative, magical experience.
You'll wish you could live in it, and that it could be made into a movie, which would suit it perfectly.
'Reverie' is a fantasy novel where gay people are front and center and are the heroes. It's full of (active) imagination, mystery, angst, loneliness, teamwork, rainbows, different fantasy worlds, deconstructions of genre tropes, great twists and turns in every thrilling chapter, wants, hopes, dreams, animals, arts and crafts, sugary treats, and fantasy powers given to teenagers - who are insecure outsiders and/or are hiding their true selves in a broken, failed reality that doesn't love them for who they are.
Each character is fantastically realised, three dimensional, and a non-cliché; the world building (to every world that applies) is solid and gorgeously detailed; and even though fantasies and making up your own happy worlds are major themes in the book, the danger in these worlds - these reveries, or etheria - is real for our self conscious and lucid heroes.
It really is hard to believe that 'Reverie' is a debut novel. Ryan La Sala is king and queen combined.
This exciting, bold, daring and hugely creative treasure tome is like 'Inception' meets 'Puella Magi Madoka Magica', and it references 'Sailor Moon' and 'The Legend of Korra' (Roald Dahl's 'The Witches' is also a part of the story as a physical motif). Practically every fantasy trope is subverted and tweaked; used in a unique, pragmatic, dynamic, and even tragic way. And in fabulously gay ways.
And the shapeshifter/mentor/antagonist, the symbol of true expression and a mirror to the protagonist, is a proud drag queen.
'Reverie' - An LBGTQ and feminist fantasy pioneer. To say it is groundbreaking and a human, emotional triumph is an understatement. This big kaleidoscopic, astronomical icing cake of a book can be read in a day. The characters are not always likeable, and some relationships (main and on the side) aren't developed well or feel organic, but that's reality: Reality for imperfect teens in the imperfect real world and in multiple fantasy worlds of other people's making. For all the angst and mystery, the author makes sure to add in a sense of humour for catharsis as well.
Maybe together the small group of disadvantaged youths can help change reality so that some aspects of fantasy and wish fulfilment can come true, little by little, with or without magic.
Strongly, wholeheartedly recommended.
Final Score: 4/5
Book Review - 'Orpheus Girl' by Brynne Rebele-Henry
2023 REREAD: A bit confusing (especially with its sudden, interrupting, random flashbacks; is the novella meant to be told in linear?), repetitive, inconsistent, strange, iffy, and not as engaging or well written as I remember it being. In rereading 'Orpheus Girl', I didn't believe in the connection and romance between Raya and Sarah this time. Sarah in particular isn't a compelling, interesting or original character in her own right.
The novella reinforces stereotyping lesbians as utterly unfeminine-like and "butch", and what about other sexualities besides gay? The Orpheus myth theme and subtext is rather forced; a reach and contrivance. There is a "redemption" for, and forgiveness written towards, a truly monstrous and unforgivable character at the conversion therapy camp. And unfortunately the story's catalyst - its wham moment towards freedom and a catharsis - at the end is a Bury Your Gays moment, or a Bury Your Trans moment, which comes out of nowhere, and it causes every other character to be saved. WTF?
From my original review:
Yes, in spite of its importance, 'Orpheus Girl' has flaws, which could have been fixed if it had been longer. The side characters are not as well developed as Raya; Raya's love for Greek mythology and the Orpheus myth specifically are not as prominent in the story as they could have been (not compared to everything else in her life, anyway), making it a loose retelling at best; the climax and resolution involve a tragedy befalling the only trans character at the camp (which has become a cliché at this point, and it isn't helping anyone) (and who is deadnamed but only by the villains); there exists the straight/gay dichotomy in the book, with no mention of bisexuality or any other sexual orientations and gender binaries in the LBGTQA community; and as far as I can tell, everyone is white.
It's a very depressing 160 page read, too, and not what I need right now.
But 'Orpheus Girl', like almost every LBGTQ+ book by LBGTQ+ authors, is an important piece of literature that should be read by everyone - for its truths, its real world, social justice messages and themes. It's a haunting, disturbing, harrowing, horrifying story, to be sure, even though I didn't feel the romance.
'Orpheus Girl' exposes the pure evil that is conversion therapy camps for what they are: a death sentence. A prison-turned-death row. The people who run them, and work in and for them, literally torture children for a living. Conversion therapy should be banned everywhere, for the barbaric atrocity and human rights violation that it is. For that declaration alone I commend the novella, though I won't be keeping it with me, on my shelf, anymore.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
'Orpheus Girl' is a poetic, beautifully written novella about love in the face of hate on an overwhelming, societal and cultural scale. It is about the pressures and limited expectations that teenage girls are forced to conform to in order to survive in a heteronormative, cisgender society. It is crushing.
'Orpheus Girl' is about Raya, a young lesbian who lives in a small town in Texas where queer people are worse than ostracised - they are made to disappear, never to be seen again. They are erased. Raya lives with her grandmother, whom she has a strained relationship with. The grandmother may only tolerate her granddaughter because she wants another chance to "raise her right", after Raya's mother got pregnant as a teenager, and then left Raya when she was two, to be an actress in a TV series where she plays a Greek goddess. This is where Raya's interest in Greek mythology sprang, and she harbours a vain hope that one day her mother will leave the fantasy TV world and come back to her.
No one understands Raya - no one bothers to try - except for her childhood friend Sarah, who becomes her lover, like it was destiny.
But eventually they are caught having sex by Sarah's brother's friend, and because people are typically bound to believe in and take the side of a drunk teenage boy than consider the feelings and safety of teenage girls, Raya and Sarah's lives are ruined forever. Around the same time, both of them are sent off to a hell on earth: a conversion therapy camp.
They are not expected to come back home. Or if they are, they will be forced to be what they are not for the rest of their lives, with the stigma following them and disgracing them for that long.
Raya will not give up, however. She knows there is nothing wrong or sinful or disgusting about her, and she will desperately try not to let fear brought on by hellish bigots control her life. As she enters the camp, she imagines herself as Orpheus, heading into the underworld to save her love, Sarah.
'It's then I decide that I'm going to descend into the depths of the underworld just like Orpheus, and I'm going to save the girl I love. Because Orpheus? She's a girl, who likes girls.' - page 60.
It is a battle for love and hope worth fighting for. Though no one can come out the other end ofconversion therapy absolute torture and erasure of existence unscathed...
This is a hard hitting and horrifying novella that brings to light serious issues concerning the LBGTQA community. It is about the human rights violation and the hate and torture prisons that are conversion therapy camps, and the utter audacity and disgrace that these are somehow still legal in a lot of American states. They are death sentences for queer people. They are about erasing queer people, making them suffer for who they are; it has nothing to do with "healing" or any of that bullshit about curing people. Being gay is not a disease, I thought that this was common knowledge by now in the 21st century. Bigots hiding behind religion to excuse their hateful views and actions are among the most heinous and dangerous people on earth. Conversion therapy gives them an edge, an advantage, and a payroll.
But amazingly, amidst the intolerance and torment, 'Orpheus Girl' is about hope. Hope for a better world out there for queer people whose only crime is being in love. Raya is an emotional, scared but determined and lovely girl who any teenage girl can relate to, in terms of fitting in for survival and for their family's acceptance. She tells her life in fragments of memory; between happiness and hope, and pain; and in fragments of dreams. She routinely escapes from herself, from her own body, and hides in her own safe space, in order to live; but she won't hate herself like everyone else wants her to. Internalised homophobia is a tragedy in this book.
Raya's first act of rebellion in her prison sentence is shaving her head, defying heteronormative gender roles at last.
Raya was also born with two small, misplaced vertebrae on her back, like wings growing, which were then surgically removed, leaving behind scars. Being gay is not the only thing she has to hide about herself from her community - she feels she could be an angel, she is an angel, but others who are misguided won't likely see it that way. She has dreams where her beloved wings, upon returning to her, sprout violently from her back while her peers scream "Freak!" at her...
I don't think there is any teenager who isn't insecure and frightened in a largely intolerant society going back generations. Adults are useless and hopeless sometimes. And they're meant to guide the next generation and keep them safe, not tell them that they're sick and unholy and need to be sent to torture camps where if they don't die, then they'll be dead inside. There is no love whatsoever in sending your children to conversion therapy, period. No more excuses. These people just don't want to deal with their queer kids who have defied what they want for them instead of seeing them as whole human beings with lives of their own - so off to prison the scared and disowned children go, to be rid of them.
Yes, in spite of its importance, 'Orpheus Girl' has flaws, which could have been fixed if it had been longer. The side characters are not as well developed as Raya; Raya's love for Greek mythology and the Orpheus myth specifically are not as prominent in the story as they could have been (not compared to everything else in her life, anyway), making it a loose retelling at best; the climax and resolution involve a tragedy befalling the only trans character at the camp (which has become a cliché at this point, and it isn't helping anyone) (and who is deadnamed but only by the villains); there exists the straight/gay dichotomy in the book, with no mention of bisexuality or any other sexual orientations and gender binaries in the LBGTQA community; and as far as I can tell, everyone is white.
And I feel I have to say this, but in reading 'Orpheus Girl' and seeing other stories like it, as an Englishwoman I have to wonder how anyone survives in Texas and other states like it. I know I'm generalising but that's the impression I keep getting.
And 'Orpheus Girl' and other stories like it, such as 'The Miseducation of Cameron Post', may be set in the nineties or the early 2000s', but they are extremely relevant today. These horrors are still happening, and we need to acknowledged this and do something about it already. Let all queer people - queer young people - feel safe and free to be themselves everywhere. Do not let hate and violence win.
I'll leave off with these heartbreaking and true quotes from this alluring and magnificent novella:
'I don't respond. I've forced myself to go to that strange, calm place that girls can access only when they're in trouble. The kind where you leave your body like you're already dead, ball your fists until your fingers turn white, and pretend to be anywhere else but where you are right now. You take a deep breath but don't exhale, just wait for the violence you know is coming for you. I learned how to do this in kindergarten when boys threw rocks at me because I didn't have parents, because I told our teacher I didn't want a husband, only a pet horse. Even then I knew what I was, though I wasn't smart enough to hide.
When I learned, finally, that I was gay, I realized I'd always been hiding, but all those years before, I just didn't know what I was hiding from, why my heart was always racing, why I always felt like I was only mimicking going through the motions of my girlhood.' - pages 66-67.
'Today his [Michael, the trans boy] confession is that he stared at himself in the mirror, stared at the body they'd turned into something not his own, and started to cry. "Like a girl," Hyde [the camp owner] says. "Good."' - page 72.
'The thing about nice homophobes is that they're the worst kind of homophobe. They'll smile at you on the street, maybe say that it would be okay if everyone could get married, but wouldn't it undermine the sanctity of marriage if the gays could too? They lull you into a false sense of security and make you feel safe enough that you'll let your guard down, and for a moment maybe entertain the idea of dropping your disguise. And then they metaphorically cut your throat.
I learned the type when I was in middle school: the girls who invite you over to dinner, girls whose parents will talk politics at the dinner table and say things about how they don't mind gay people as long as they don't have to see them or interact with them. They applaud themselves for their tolerance but vote for politicians who want to make gayness a mental illness again, then smile at you at church the next day. With every action they make to take away your rights, they adopt an air of phony shame, as if they actually cared about the consequences of their beliefs.
[...]
With men like Hyde, men who smile too kindly and act all fatherly while they erase your identity, the line between safe and not safe blurs in a way that scares me." - pages 93-94.
(Why the fuck doesn't my word processor recognise the word homophobe?)
A stunning debut by a passionate young author and poet, about all people needing and deserving to be set free to live.
From the book's copyright page: Content warning: There are scenes in this book that depict self-harm, homophobia, transphobia, and violence against LBGTQ characters.
Final Score: 3.5/5
The novella reinforces stereotyping lesbians as utterly unfeminine-like and "butch", and what about other sexualities besides gay? The Orpheus myth theme and subtext is rather forced; a reach and contrivance. There is a "redemption" for, and forgiveness written towards, a truly monstrous and unforgivable character at the conversion therapy camp. And unfortunately the story's catalyst - its wham moment towards freedom and a catharsis - at the end is a Bury Your Gays moment, or a Bury Your Trans moment, which comes out of nowhere, and it causes every other character to be saved. WTF?
From my original review:
Yes, in spite of its importance, 'Orpheus Girl' has flaws, which could have been fixed if it had been longer. The side characters are not as well developed as Raya; Raya's love for Greek mythology and the Orpheus myth specifically are not as prominent in the story as they could have been (not compared to everything else in her life, anyway), making it a loose retelling at best; the climax and resolution involve a tragedy befalling the only trans character at the camp (which has become a cliché at this point, and it isn't helping anyone) (and who is deadnamed but only by the villains); there exists the straight/gay dichotomy in the book, with no mention of bisexuality or any other sexual orientations and gender binaries in the LBGTQA community; and as far as I can tell, everyone is white.
It's a very depressing 160 page read, too, and not what I need right now.
But 'Orpheus Girl', like almost every LBGTQ+ book by LBGTQ+ authors, is an important piece of literature that should be read by everyone - for its truths, its real world, social justice messages and themes. It's a haunting, disturbing, harrowing, horrifying story, to be sure, even though I didn't feel the romance.
'Orpheus Girl' exposes the pure evil that is conversion therapy camps for what they are: a death sentence. A prison-turned-death row. The people who run them, and work in and for them, literally torture children for a living. Conversion therapy should be banned everywhere, for the barbaric atrocity and human rights violation that it is. For that declaration alone I commend the novella, though I won't be keeping it with me, on my shelf, anymore.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
'Orpheus Girl' is a poetic, beautifully written novella about love in the face of hate on an overwhelming, societal and cultural scale. It is about the pressures and limited expectations that teenage girls are forced to conform to in order to survive in a heteronormative, cisgender society. It is crushing.
'Orpheus Girl' is about Raya, a young lesbian who lives in a small town in Texas where queer people are worse than ostracised - they are made to disappear, never to be seen again. They are erased. Raya lives with her grandmother, whom she has a strained relationship with. The grandmother may only tolerate her granddaughter because she wants another chance to "raise her right", after Raya's mother got pregnant as a teenager, and then left Raya when she was two, to be an actress in a TV series where she plays a Greek goddess. This is where Raya's interest in Greek mythology sprang, and she harbours a vain hope that one day her mother will leave the fantasy TV world and come back to her.
No one understands Raya - no one bothers to try - except for her childhood friend Sarah, who becomes her lover, like it was destiny.
But eventually they are caught having sex by Sarah's brother's friend, and because people are typically bound to believe in and take the side of a drunk teenage boy than consider the feelings and safety of teenage girls, Raya and Sarah's lives are ruined forever. Around the same time, both of them are sent off to a hell on earth: a conversion therapy camp.
They are not expected to come back home. Or if they are, they will be forced to be what they are not for the rest of their lives, with the stigma following them and disgracing them for that long.
Raya will not give up, however. She knows there is nothing wrong or sinful or disgusting about her, and she will desperately try not to let fear brought on by hellish bigots control her life. As she enters the camp, she imagines herself as Orpheus, heading into the underworld to save her love, Sarah.
'It's then I decide that I'm going to descend into the depths of the underworld just like Orpheus, and I'm going to save the girl I love. Because Orpheus? She's a girl, who likes girls.' - page 60.
It is a battle for love and hope worth fighting for. Though no one can come out the other end of
This is a hard hitting and horrifying novella that brings to light serious issues concerning the LBGTQA community. It is about the human rights violation and the hate and torture prisons that are conversion therapy camps, and the utter audacity and disgrace that these are somehow still legal in a lot of American states. They are death sentences for queer people. They are about erasing queer people, making them suffer for who they are; it has nothing to do with "healing" or any of that bullshit about curing people. Being gay is not a disease, I thought that this was common knowledge by now in the 21st century. Bigots hiding behind religion to excuse their hateful views and actions are among the most heinous and dangerous people on earth. Conversion therapy gives them an edge, an advantage, and a payroll.
But amazingly, amidst the intolerance and torment, 'Orpheus Girl' is about hope. Hope for a better world out there for queer people whose only crime is being in love. Raya is an emotional, scared but determined and lovely girl who any teenage girl can relate to, in terms of fitting in for survival and for their family's acceptance. She tells her life in fragments of memory; between happiness and hope, and pain; and in fragments of dreams. She routinely escapes from herself, from her own body, and hides in her own safe space, in order to live; but she won't hate herself like everyone else wants her to. Internalised homophobia is a tragedy in this book.
Raya's first act of rebellion in her prison sentence is shaving her head, defying heteronormative gender roles at last.
Raya was also born with two small, misplaced vertebrae on her back, like wings growing, which were then surgically removed, leaving behind scars. Being gay is not the only thing she has to hide about herself from her community - she feels she could be an angel, she is an angel, but others who are misguided won't likely see it that way. She has dreams where her beloved wings, upon returning to her, sprout violently from her back while her peers scream "Freak!" at her...
I don't think there is any teenager who isn't insecure and frightened in a largely intolerant society going back generations. Adults are useless and hopeless sometimes. And they're meant to guide the next generation and keep them safe, not tell them that they're sick and unholy and need to be sent to torture camps where if they don't die, then they'll be dead inside. There is no love whatsoever in sending your children to conversion therapy, period. No more excuses. These people just don't want to deal with their queer kids who have defied what they want for them instead of seeing them as whole human beings with lives of their own - so off to prison the scared and disowned children go, to be rid of them.
Yes, in spite of its importance, 'Orpheus Girl' has flaws, which could have been fixed if it had been longer. The side characters are not as well developed as Raya; Raya's love for Greek mythology and the Orpheus myth specifically are not as prominent in the story as they could have been (not compared to everything else in her life, anyway), making it a loose retelling at best; the climax and resolution involve a tragedy befalling the only trans character at the camp (which has become a cliché at this point, and it isn't helping anyone) (and who is deadnamed but only by the villains); there exists the straight/gay dichotomy in the book, with no mention of bisexuality or any other sexual orientations and gender binaries in the LBGTQA community; and as far as I can tell, everyone is white.
And I feel I have to say this, but in reading 'Orpheus Girl' and seeing other stories like it, as an Englishwoman I have to wonder how anyone survives in Texas and other states like it. I know I'm generalising but that's the impression I keep getting.
And 'Orpheus Girl' and other stories like it, such as 'The Miseducation of Cameron Post', may be set in the nineties or the early 2000s', but they are extremely relevant today. These horrors are still happening, and we need to acknowledged this and do something about it already. Let all queer people - queer young people - feel safe and free to be themselves everywhere. Do not let hate and violence win.
I'll leave off with these heartbreaking and true quotes from this alluring and magnificent novella:
'I don't respond. I've forced myself to go to that strange, calm place that girls can access only when they're in trouble. The kind where you leave your body like you're already dead, ball your fists until your fingers turn white, and pretend to be anywhere else but where you are right now. You take a deep breath but don't exhale, just wait for the violence you know is coming for you. I learned how to do this in kindergarten when boys threw rocks at me because I didn't have parents, because I told our teacher I didn't want a husband, only a pet horse. Even then I knew what I was, though I wasn't smart enough to hide.
When I learned, finally, that I was gay, I realized I'd always been hiding, but all those years before, I just didn't know what I was hiding from, why my heart was always racing, why I always felt like I was only mimicking going through the motions of my girlhood.' - pages 66-67.
'Today his [Michael, the trans boy] confession is that he stared at himself in the mirror, stared at the body they'd turned into something not his own, and started to cry. "Like a girl," Hyde [the camp owner] says. "Good."' - page 72.
'The thing about nice homophobes is that they're the worst kind of homophobe. They'll smile at you on the street, maybe say that it would be okay if everyone could get married, but wouldn't it undermine the sanctity of marriage if the gays could too? They lull you into a false sense of security and make you feel safe enough that you'll let your guard down, and for a moment maybe entertain the idea of dropping your disguise. And then they metaphorically cut your throat.
I learned the type when I was in middle school: the girls who invite you over to dinner, girls whose parents will talk politics at the dinner table and say things about how they don't mind gay people as long as they don't have to see them or interact with them. They applaud themselves for their tolerance but vote for politicians who want to make gayness a mental illness again, then smile at you at church the next day. With every action they make to take away your rights, they adopt an air of phony shame, as if they actually cared about the consequences of their beliefs.
[...]
With men like Hyde, men who smile too kindly and act all fatherly while they erase your identity, the line between safe and not safe blurs in a way that scares me." - pages 93-94.
(Why the fuck doesn't my word processor recognise the word homophobe?)
A stunning debut by a passionate young author and poet, about all people needing and deserving to be set free to live.
From the book's copyright page: Content warning: There are scenes in this book that depict self-harm, homophobia, transphobia, and violence against LBGTQ characters.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Saturday, 8 February 2020
Scribble #112
Quarantine
They say I shouldn't be here.
They say I'm diseased.
They say I shouldn't be.
They say I shouldn't exist. Period. I'm an inconvenience for them.
But I know I'm not. I know there is nothing wrong with me, but they are making me sick.
But I escape, for survival. I escape to the one place where they can't break me; where they can't hurt me. It's the only place that is purely, undoubtedly mine right now. Where I am me, where I can always be me and still be excepted:
My mind. My spirit.
So as they strip me, beat me, spray me with a tidal wave force of water that suffocates, bruises, and smells like gas (especially the resulting, rising steam), I am at peace in a blue garden. In the soft nighttime it glows like lush, phosphorescent jewels. The stars in the open, vast, free blanket of the sky are shimmering, twinkling bright. Fireflies buzz about lazily and dreamily, never minding anyone else. Blue butterflies dance, leaving behind them a winsome, glittery trail. The moon, round and starkly white among the dome of stars, promises sugar and love. There is a koi pond in the center. It is here, on its porcelain tiled edge, where I can sit or lie down and just feel the easiness, the beauty, the happiness, the freedom, all around me. I smell plum tulips before I glimpse them in the grass the colour of cornflower and iris (the same flowers may have spawned this freshly conserved prairie). I'm sure that if there were cats, rabbits, foxes, snow leopards, gazelles, swans, peacocks, tortoises, and spiders, with their dewy webs, this garden would have made a complete menagerie.
They dress me in plain, dirty white sheets (the smell of human decay not erased well), but in my mind's safe space I am wearing a silk lilac dress, which glows luminously with my pale skin. The brightness - the warmth and the sweetness - within myself, where all of my favourite things are stored, contrasts with the darkness and dirt and blood my physical body is subjected to. That brightness shines in my dark eyes. I think that scares them most of all.
No matter what, however, they can't break me, or make me cease to exist.
They can't erase my reflection.
They say I shouldn't be here.
They say I'm diseased.
They say I shouldn't be.
They say I shouldn't exist. Period. I'm an inconvenience for them.
But I know I'm not. I know there is nothing wrong with me, but they are making me sick.
But I escape, for survival. I escape to the one place where they can't break me; where they can't hurt me. It's the only place that is purely, undoubtedly mine right now. Where I am me, where I can always be me and still be excepted:
My mind. My spirit.
So as they strip me, beat me, spray me with a tidal wave force of water that suffocates, bruises, and smells like gas (especially the resulting, rising steam), I am at peace in a blue garden. In the soft nighttime it glows like lush, phosphorescent jewels. The stars in the open, vast, free blanket of the sky are shimmering, twinkling bright. Fireflies buzz about lazily and dreamily, never minding anyone else. Blue butterflies dance, leaving behind them a winsome, glittery trail. The moon, round and starkly white among the dome of stars, promises sugar and love. There is a koi pond in the center. It is here, on its porcelain tiled edge, where I can sit or lie down and just feel the easiness, the beauty, the happiness, the freedom, all around me. I smell plum tulips before I glimpse them in the grass the colour of cornflower and iris (the same flowers may have spawned this freshly conserved prairie). I'm sure that if there were cats, rabbits, foxes, snow leopards, gazelles, swans, peacocks, tortoises, and spiders, with their dewy webs, this garden would have made a complete menagerie.
They dress me in plain, dirty white sheets (the smell of human decay not erased well), but in my mind's safe space I am wearing a silk lilac dress, which glows luminously with my pale skin. The brightness - the warmth and the sweetness - within myself, where all of my favourite things are stored, contrasts with the darkness and dirt and blood my physical body is subjected to. That brightness shines in my dark eyes. I think that scares them most of all.
No matter what, however, they can't break me, or make me cease to exist.
They can't erase my reflection.
Birds of Prey (2020) post
'Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of one Harley Quinn)' - There is much to be said about its structure, and the beginning is the messiest. But I enjoyed the shit out of this film. I smiled a lot, I was thrilled a lot - by the action, the set pieces, the silliness, and the rioting, unmitigated Guerrilla girl power with no overt sexual objectification, nor any male gazing - and all the actors are fantastic. It does its job: this Harley Quinn solo feature, starring other deeply flawed heroines in a violent patriarchal world, is a fun popcorn flick meant to provide entertainment to moviegoers. With independent female leads no less, interacting sporadically and then teaming up. It's better than DC's movies from 2016 in every aspect, including editing.
But will we ever see Barbara Gordon in the DC cinematic universe?
From films, I learned a long time ago never to get my hopes up and expect perfection, because you can't expect something that doesn't exist. Whatever happened to the days when we just had fun at the movies? Why so cynical and nitpicky? And can we please stop with this trend of hating everything? It's destroying movies, and ourselves. So much hate is unhealthy and destructive.
Not all art is high art. Sometimes what you see is what you get. Don't be pretentious, and the Oscars are excluding, elitist, and a sham; the awards show for the rich and privileged's standards and ethics have barely changed since the fifties.
But will we ever see Barbara Gordon in the DC cinematic universe?
From films, I learned a long time ago never to get my hopes up and expect perfection, because you can't expect something that doesn't exist. Whatever happened to the days when we just had fun at the movies? Why so cynical and nitpicky? And can we please stop with this trend of hating everything? It's destroying movies, and ourselves. So much hate is unhealthy and destructive.
Not all art is high art. Sometimes what you see is what you get. Don't be pretentious, and the Oscars are excluding, elitist, and a sham; the awards show for the rich and privileged's standards and ethics have barely changed since the fifties.
Sunday, 2 February 2020
Manga Review - 'Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story, Vol. 1' by Magica Quartet (Creator), Fujino Fuji (Artist)
2026 REREAD:
WELCOME TO OCTOBER MAGICA!
Now's the time to look at the mobile-game-turned-manga-turned-anime, 'Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story'. This is a rereview of volume 1.
To think that I first read this just before the covid-19 pandemic!
The 'Magia Record' manga is a fun and interesting new direction to take 'Madoka Magica', with new magical girls to follow, each engaging and mysterious in her own way. It is a different side story, all right - an action-packed, girl power mystery drama - and I am here for it.
I am here for Iroha. And Momoko, Mitama (aka the Coordinator), Kaede, Rena, and Yachiyo.
And Ui, Touka, and Nemu, too.
(Trios make the best character dynamics; even the manga mentions it.)
If Iroha is the Madoka of this story (and not just because of her pink hair), then Yachiyo is definitely Homura, and Rena is Kyouko, and Momoko is a combination of Mami and Sayaka. Kaede is her own shy, timid, and moody magical girl, I guess.
All the magical girls' outfits are interesting and unique. I especially like Iroha's hood, you don't see that on many magical girls anywhere. What I don't like is the part of her outfit that covers her torso - it is made of a see-through material. What is the purpose of that?! And is Yachiyo's dark dress also see-through from the chest down? The bellies of Momoko and Kaede are exposed, too. WTF? Is this pathetic yet obvious fanservice?!
I still have not played the mobile game, but I watched the anime adaptation of 'Magia Record' on Netflix earlier this year, and all I really remember about it is it is messy, mad, haphazard, and overly convoluted. Though that could be partly my fault for watching all 25 episodes in one day, so I was bound to receive a headache one way or another. Maybe I should give it another go sometime. Even if it is overall nonsensical, contradictory, and ultimately pointless, given everything about 'Puella Magi Madoka Magica' and how that series ends.
Judging by the first volume of the manga alone, I am hooked. There are no male characters, save Iroha's father (and the little Kyubey, maybe...?), and none of the original 'Madoka' cast has shown up yet, leaving the newbies to grow, develop, and stand on their own, and in their own right.
Nothing dark, depressing, horrific, and tragic happens in this magical girl 'Side Story'...yet.
In fact, so far it could pass as a 'Pretty Cure' series, or a 'Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha' series. Heh.
It does end rather abruptly and underwhelmingly, however - unfinished, even for a beginning, establishing volume of a series. How the fight scenes between the magical girls and the warded witches are drawn can look unclear and confusing, and they conclude in unsatisfying ways.
Also, I am not a fan of the few instances of lesbiphobic humour. Low blow, 'Magia Record', low blow.
Next up, the spinoff of the spinoff: 'Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica' - 'Another Story', not 'Side Story', starring Mami Tomoe in her role in 'Magia Record'.
Happy October Magica!
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
'Magia Record' - One of the first 'Puella Magi Madoka Magica' spinoff manga I decided to read. Mostly because of the beautiful cover art. I never played the mobile game this was based on.
But yeah, it turns out that another story can be told in this universe, without the original main characters (so far, and you can bet it will get complicated later), barring a littler, cuter, supposedly innocent Kyubey.
Iroha Tamaki is an established magical girl. She has parents, a seemingly normal life, pink hair, and an awesome transformation outfit; and she is trying to uncover the meaning behind her dreams of a little girl she can't remember ever knowing. The answers may lie in Kamihama City, which is very dangerous territory for magical girls as it contains a slew of strong witches and familiars. So naturally there are a lot of other magical girls there. Iroha's goal is to track down a tiny Kyubey who may be the key to everything she wants to know. Like her past; with details such as:
What was her wish?
In Kamihama City Iroha runs into Momoko Togame, Yachiyo, Mitama Yakumo (aka Coordinator), Kaede Akino, and Rena - all of whom resemble the magical girl cast of 'Madoka Magica', without being the same characters exactly. But is Iroha getting in too deep? There is definitely more to this mystery than what is revealed to her - and it doesn't concern just herself. But she wants to be involved, because she wants to find the little girl in her dreams, if she's still alive. She also wants to help her new potential friends, despite them clashing, where she doesn't know the whole story of what's going on between these magical girls.
Iroha's only concerned, and wants to understand everything. She cares. But the deeper and quicker down the rabbit hole she digs, the harder she might fall...
What a compelling mystery story! With an abundance of dynamic female characters (Iroha's dad is shown to be the only male character, if Kyubey doesn't count, and Dad appears in two pages), cool outfits, weapons and powers, cool witches and witch wards, and a main character to root for.
Iroha is assertive and brave, but is overall an inexperienced and naïve magical girl (no one seems aware of the true nature of magical girls yet). She is below average - which puts her at a dangerous disadvantage in Kamihama City - but she has potential. Her personality is like a combination of Mami Tomoe's and Madoka Kaname's.
I also like how Yachiyo's looks and personality are pretty much Homura Akemi's, with a bit of Kyouko Sakura added in there. Yachiyo is tough, but is fair, just, and a little snarky and teasing, under her cool, emotionless girl warrior exterior.
There is more than meets the eye here; more darkening and crumbling underneath the cute, altruistic hero's story surface. An aesthetic that's like the original series, even though nothing directly dark, brutal, depressing and nihilistic has happened yet. It's a quiet kind of peril so far.
'Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story, Vol. 1' - A spinoff manga that comes recommended by me. Something gigantic and tragic is lurking within the sweetness and magical girl drama. Like the worst witch's ward. Some secrets should perhaps stay hidden.
Final Score: 4/5
WELCOME TO OCTOBER MAGICA!
Now's the time to look at the mobile-game-turned-manga-turned-anime, 'Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story'. This is a rereview of volume 1.
To think that I first read this just before the covid-19 pandemic!
The 'Magia Record' manga is a fun and interesting new direction to take 'Madoka Magica', with new magical girls to follow, each engaging and mysterious in her own way. It is a different side story, all right - an action-packed, girl power mystery drama - and I am here for it.
I am here for Iroha. And Momoko, Mitama (aka the Coordinator), Kaede, Rena, and Yachiyo.
And Ui, Touka, and Nemu, too.
(Trios make the best character dynamics; even the manga mentions it.)
If Iroha is the Madoka of this story (and not just because of her pink hair), then Yachiyo is definitely Homura, and Rena is Kyouko, and Momoko is a combination of Mami and Sayaka. Kaede is her own shy, timid, and moody magical girl, I guess.
All the magical girls' outfits are interesting and unique. I especially like Iroha's hood, you don't see that on many magical girls anywhere. What I don't like is the part of her outfit that covers her torso - it is made of a see-through material. What is the purpose of that?! And is Yachiyo's dark dress also see-through from the chest down? The bellies of Momoko and Kaede are exposed, too. WTF? Is this pathetic yet obvious fanservice?!
I still have not played the mobile game, but I watched the anime adaptation of 'Magia Record' on Netflix earlier this year, and all I really remember about it is it is messy, mad, haphazard, and overly convoluted. Though that could be partly my fault for watching all 25 episodes in one day, so I was bound to receive a headache one way or another. Maybe I should give it another go sometime. Even if it is overall nonsensical, contradictory, and ultimately pointless, given everything about 'Puella Magi Madoka Magica' and how that series ends.
Judging by the first volume of the manga alone, I am hooked. There are no male characters, save Iroha's father (and the little Kyubey, maybe...?), and none of the original 'Madoka' cast has shown up yet, leaving the newbies to grow, develop, and stand on their own, and in their own right.
Nothing dark, depressing, horrific, and tragic happens in this magical girl 'Side Story'...yet.
In fact, so far it could pass as a 'Pretty Cure' series, or a 'Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha' series. Heh.
It does end rather abruptly and underwhelmingly, however - unfinished, even for a beginning, establishing volume of a series. How the fight scenes between the magical girls and the warded witches are drawn can look unclear and confusing, and they conclude in unsatisfying ways.
Also, I am not a fan of the few instances of lesbiphobic humour. Low blow, 'Magia Record', low blow.
Next up, the spinoff of the spinoff: 'Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica' - 'Another Story', not 'Side Story', starring Mami Tomoe in her role in 'Magia Record'.
Happy October Magica!
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
'Magia Record' - One of the first 'Puella Magi Madoka Magica' spinoff manga I decided to read. Mostly because of the beautiful cover art. I never played the mobile game this was based on.
But yeah, it turns out that another story can be told in this universe, without the original main characters (so far, and you can bet it will get complicated later), barring a littler, cuter, supposedly innocent Kyubey.
Iroha Tamaki is an established magical girl. She has parents, a seemingly normal life, pink hair, and an awesome transformation outfit; and she is trying to uncover the meaning behind her dreams of a little girl she can't remember ever knowing. The answers may lie in Kamihama City, which is very dangerous territory for magical girls as it contains a slew of strong witches and familiars. So naturally there are a lot of other magical girls there. Iroha's goal is to track down a tiny Kyubey who may be the key to everything she wants to know. Like her past; with details such as:
What was her wish?
In Kamihama City Iroha runs into Momoko Togame, Yachiyo, Mitama Yakumo (aka Coordinator), Kaede Akino, and Rena - all of whom resemble the magical girl cast of 'Madoka Magica', without being the same characters exactly. But is Iroha getting in too deep? There is definitely more to this mystery than what is revealed to her - and it doesn't concern just herself. But she wants to be involved, because she wants to find the little girl in her dreams, if she's still alive. She also wants to help her new potential friends, despite them clashing, where she doesn't know the whole story of what's going on between these magical girls.
Iroha's only concerned, and wants to understand everything. She cares. But the deeper and quicker down the rabbit hole she digs, the harder she might fall...
What a compelling mystery story! With an abundance of dynamic female characters (Iroha's dad is shown to be the only male character, if Kyubey doesn't count, and Dad appears in two pages), cool outfits, weapons and powers, cool witches and witch wards, and a main character to root for.
Iroha is assertive and brave, but is overall an inexperienced and naïve magical girl (no one seems aware of the true nature of magical girls yet). She is below average - which puts her at a dangerous disadvantage in Kamihama City - but she has potential. Her personality is like a combination of Mami Tomoe's and Madoka Kaname's.
I also like how Yachiyo's looks and personality are pretty much Homura Akemi's, with a bit of Kyouko Sakura added in there. Yachiyo is tough, but is fair, just, and a little snarky and teasing, under her cool, emotionless girl warrior exterior.
There is more than meets the eye here; more darkening and crumbling underneath the cute, altruistic hero's story surface. An aesthetic that's like the original series, even though nothing directly dark, brutal, depressing and nihilistic has happened yet. It's a quiet kind of peril so far.
'Magia Record: Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story, Vol. 1' - A spinoff manga that comes recommended by me. Something gigantic and tragic is lurking within the sweetness and magical girl drama. Like the worst witch's ward. Some secrets should perhaps stay hidden.
Final Score: 4/5
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