Book Review - 'A Magical Girl Retires' by Park Seolyeon, Anton Hur (Translator), Kim Sanho (Illustrator)

'In A Magical Girl Retires, the universe has a way of balancing the scales of power and justice: the power of one magical girl may flow to another to redress the balance, or a girl in peril is given the exact superpower she needs to lift herself out of it to safety. The most iconic magic girl of all, Sailor Moon, specifically refers to herself as a champion of justice. The magic that magical girls want is not to grow into giants or concoct powerful fragrances or manipulate time or be clairvoyant--it's the power of justice. Magical girls exist because justice does not.' - A Note from the Translator, Anton Hur.

My 950th review!

Never in a million years would I have thought that I would reach this milestone, and it would be about a Korean Magical Girl novella. Mainstream, too, as it was in my local bookshop. But, girl, am I glad this happened, because a Magical Girl book about adulthood, female empowerment, and modern social and economic issues is just my jam.

'A Magical Girl Retires' starts off with our nameless twenty-nine-year-old heroine, deep in debt and shattered hopes and dreams in a post-pandemic world, attempting suicide. But she is saved by a Magical Girl of Clairvoyance, Ah Roa, who arrives via taxi, and tells her she is destined to become a magical girl. Not just any magical girl, but perhaps the most important magical girl in the world, of all time - the Magical Girl of Time.


'Grandfather, they say I'm a magical girl.
The Magical Girl of Time, the greatest ever.'


The book is about magical girls living in the real world - which everyone knows about, BTW - and they unionise, plan and organise events, and stop terrorists. Above all, they are finding ways to prevent the ever-growing threat - the real crisis, and apocalypse - of climate change. It's not all sparkles, frilly dresses and skirts, magic wands and sceptres, and big bad alien monster threats. It's not all exterior and visible, and it is certainly not child's play. These girls and women, apparently coming into their powers at the worst, even traumatic, time of their lives, when they were at their weakest, are doing their part and making the effort to save their undeserving, chaotic world (well, not all of them, and not all of them are "good guys", but that's spoiler territory).

But 'A Magical Girl Retires', in its magical realism, is mostly about our protagonist's day-to-day life, which is pretty mundane for a new magical girl; one who is trying to figure out what her powers are - what makes her so special? Is she special? Does it matter in the end? - with the help of her new magical girl friend. She still has to find a job to pay her credit card debt. Also maybe, maybe, she can still fulfil her dream of being a watchmaker...

You can read 'A Magical Girl Retires' in a day. I would have if I hadn't been so busy. You can carry it around and read it at any time. Despite its girly, manga-esque cover, and the fact that it is about manga-esque magical girls, it is an adult book, with serious adult themes, such as suicide, climate change, capitalism (linked to entropy), and domestic abuse.

It is definitely not the most well written novella ever. It needed some extra editing, plus character distinction, although this could be a translation issue. And like a lot of novellas, the whole thing, the premise, could have benefitted from being longer.

Another criticism I can launch at it is it needed to handle its domestic abuse theme more thoroughly, with more exploration and sensitivity. A deeper sympathy was needed there: without getting into heavy spoilers, 'A Magical Girl Retires' does vilify a victim.

And why does the first person narrator protag refer to a short person as a "d***f" on page 38? That word is a slur for little people - for they are not fairy tale creatures - and in a 2024 publication, it is jaw-droppingly insensitive.

It's a shame. Yet even with all its flaws, I can't hate 'A Magical Girl Retires'. For someone like me, who does not dislike anything to do with magical girls easily, it is a starry trinket in my book (pun unintended). Everything else in it is so endearing, enticing, intriguing, poignant, and clever. I can tell that the author, Park Seolyeon, really loves the Magical Girl manga and anime genre. Like me!

The everywoman protagonist, our first person narrator, is sympathetic and relatable enough (her little lacking in empathy and the "d***f" usage notwithstanding), even though we never know what her name is. In this very short story, we receive enough about her - about her past, her family, her struggles, and her true ambition in life, as a woman in a shitty, patriarchal, late-stage capitalist world - to root for her and want to see her succeed. She might just save the world, momentarily, as a magical girl, in her own unique, grounded, realistic style.

Her relationship with Ah Roa, aka a saint and an angel, and the other star of the story, is very sweet. The two magical girls might be "destined" to be more than friends. No magic mirror will determine that, however - they will get there on their own.

In fact, female empowerment, friendships and other ships are major, magical motifs in 'A Magical Girl Retires'. There isn't a single male character present, unless you count the main heroine's deceased grandfather.

So there you have it: my big review of Park Seolyeon's short book, 'A Magical Girl Retires'. It's a great premise that delivers in small but substantial bulks, and it is a quick and breezy read for something that contains heavy, real topics. The passion and effort in the writing and creative ideas are there, regardless. If you love 'Sailor Moon', 'Puella Magi Madoka Magica', and any other Magical Girl shows, then absolutely check it out. 'A Magical Girl Retires' is a love letter to the beloved, proudly "girly" genre, aimed to capture and ignite your adult mind as well as your childlike, nostalgic heart.

I am nearly thirty-three-years-old, and I am still waiting to become a magical girl. I have been ever since I first saw Sailor Moon when I was around five-years-old. Maybe I can be one, in my own way. Anyone can be a magical girl, and fight for justice in this hopeless, violent, idiotic hellscape we call earth, our one and only home. To fight, to save, to help, to try, to find peace with each other. It's that first step, like giving to charities, and finding likeminded individuals and friends, and taking part in protests; in doing our part, in seemingly small, ineffectual and insignificant ways... these steps do make a difference. They do help someone, somewhere.

I am a magical girl by heart, with or without a sparkly outfit. Magic, the supernatural, they may not be real, but what all "magical girls" fight, and fight for, they are real. The human heart and spirit, and altruism, kindness and goodness, are real.

Never give up hope for a better world. A nonmagical world... that won't need magic and miracles anymore.



'In our world, so many people never face consequences for their actions. Justice is not given--it is earned. The climate crisis, which throws its shadow across the events that unfold in this book, was created by generations of people who won't have to deal with the worst yet to come. Our descendants will have to pay the climate bill we racked up [...]

But for justice to exist, we have to imagine it first. [...] We do not have the power to turn back time, to change the past. But we do have the power to change the future. We have the power, in big ways and small, to enact justice, which in turn means every single one of us is capable of becoming a magical girl.' - A Note from the Translator, Anton Hur.



I thank 'A Magical Girl Retires', for being the subject of the 950th book review written by this booklover and magical girl lover.

Final Score: 3.5/5

Graphic Novel Review - 'Wolfpitch' by Balazs Lorinczi

It's a comic about a bass-playing werewolf woman, a jazz pianist ghost woman made of milkshakes, and a mean and dynamic drummer woman (human and living). There's music, gigs, a battle of bands, a burger and milkshake joint, magic, a hate-to-love w/w romance, class and domesticity issues, disability issues, self-esteem and confidence issues, and a blue and pink (and black and yellow) colouring palette.

What's not to like?

'Wolfpitch' is chaotic, but it's a nice, soft, palatable chaotic, never annoying or obnoxious. Set in our modern world but with supernatural elements integrated in, it stars a massively confident (one could say overcompensating), loud, stubborn and often overbearing punk rock bassist named Isabella "Izzy" Plata, who's also a big bad werewolf. Though no one would think twice about her behaviour if she were a man, would they? She is truly the "howler" of the book, and the band, the newly-forming Wolfpitch. With her in Wolfpitch is Delilah, a little lady who is one of the best drummers ever, and was Izzy's longtime archnemesis and rival. I started out hating her, but she turned into one of my favourite characters, isn't that something? Delilah's bad attitude and temper is actually endearing, and understandable. Even though she is a werewolf racist towards Izzy, scarcely getting over herself over the course of the book. The other member of the girl band is Geraldine Dukes, a sweet, levelheaded ghost of a famous jazz pianist, who now works at a burger joint called Blood Moon Bites, and is unable to write new music or improvise since her tragic onstage death. She is made tangible by milkshakes. Goddess, I love comic books.

Side characters include Geraldine's awesome, wise, savvy boss Kate (who wouldn't want a boss like her), her nonbinary coworker Terry, Ron the nice rival drummer, and... yeah, they're the only ones worth mentioning. Dylan of the rival rock band, who's he?

'Wolfpitch', among its many lightly-touched themes for a short comic, is about transformation, literally and figuratively. It is about development, growing up, moving on, self-worth, self-acceptance, and surmounting odds. And rocking out your passion and creativity for everyone to see.

The art and colours really make everything stand out, and give the readers an idea of the music being played in an inaudible medium. It's a mixture of rock and jazz, supposedly. I'm no music expert, but it sounds interesting, to say the least.

The comic is far from perfect. It could have gotten more into Delilah's relationship with her mother, who barely shows up and is barely talked about, yet we are told two or three times that theirs is a strained, complicated, borderline neglectful relationship. Some minor side characters definitely could have benefitted from extra page time, especially Terry, and other band members. Dylan's shift from regular rivel band member at the beginning to straight-up mad villain is rather sudden. And the w/w romance between two of the main players, while gradually developed and underplayed, and it took me by surprise, needed more page time as well. More scenes of the couple together, romantically.

'Wolfpitch' is short but sweet. It is juicy, and juicily like 'Jem and the Holograms' and 'Josie and the Pussycats'. In my opinion, it is not as enjoyable as Balazs Lorinczi's other work, 'Doughnuts and Doom', but maybe that's partly due to personal preference. In a few ways, the wolfy rock band comic is a silly mess, but in this case, that's okay. The main keynote players and rep - and the fantastic art - make up for it.

Both of Lorinczi's comics feature a 'Kiki's Delivery Service' style of supernatural stuff that's normalised in a normal world, and strong, passionate and creative female leads, and foods that add to and amp up their cuteness factor.

Finally, on a tiny footnote: 'Wolfpitch' references 'The Mummy', starring Brendan Fraser. Anything that references Brendan Fraser is a good highlight, and starlight.

'Wolfpitch' is its own fun, little Milkshake-y Way star system.

Final Score: 3.5/5

Graphic Novel Review - 'Barda' by Ngozi Ukazu

'Darkseid is...

and life on Apokolips is tough--

but then, it is hell, after all.
And no one knows this better than Barda,
Granny Goodness's right-hand warrior.'



I knew very little about Big Barda before reading the latest DC YA graphic novel, 'Barda', by Ngozi Ukazu, and it is indeed a good introduction to her character for newcomers.

It is a shame that she isn't as exposed and well known as other DC superheroes, even nowadays, in 2024, for she is an awesome and awe-inspiring heroine. Big Barda is like a bigger, beefier, and more aggressive and tragic Wonder Woman, with a cool helmet and golden Mega-Rod. She transforms from a villain and antiheroine from a severely abusive background - on Apokolips, DC's version of hell - into a full-fledged heroine. Out of love for a man, Scott Free aka Mister Miracle, yes, but I actually don't mind this, as long as that relationship is properly developed and the characters themselves are likeable.

Barda is a mighty muscle maiden, and 'Barda' does a wonderful job in its writing and development of her, as a toughened, calamitous soul with a hidden heart of gold; a strong and flawed abuse victim; a product of a sheltered, imprisoned, cultish upbringing, who you want to see escape and be free.

The art is nice, expressive and cartoony without undermining, shortchanging or sugarcoating the story's dark, mature themes. The colour palettes befitting a scene's mood and environment, and the shadowing, are very well done.

As short as 'Barda' is at 193 pages, it is terrifically paced, its themes are clearly established and integrated and interwoven into its storytelling fabric and binding, and all its characters are memorable. Some richly and joyously so.

As well as Big Barda herself - the top warrior woman who secretly wants to know about love, when it is forbidden and punishable by torture and death on Apokolips, as decreed by Granny Goodness and Darkseid - there are the Female Furies she leads: the bloodthirsty and jealous Lashina, the bookish, pompous stick-in-the-mud Bernadeth, the brawny meathead Stompa, the wild, violent and unhinged Mad Harriet, and the sweet, vulnerable and tragic Auralie. They're like female, villainous and humanoid versions of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. The male characters consist of Darkseid, who only appears in one scene at the beginning, and the violent red-eyed "enemy" from New Genesis (warring with Apokolips), Orion, whom Barda thinks she might be in love with, and likes to spar with on their encounters, and Scott Free, her actual true love, who isn't nearly as interesting as the female characters combined, but he is a funny and clever little chap of an acrobatic escape artist (Barda and Scott - a tall, big woman and a small, skinny man - are subversive relationship goals). Oh and there's Himon, I guess, who is in a single scene. Seriously, who cares about that generic, useless old duffer?

But I have to highlight Granny Goodness here. Until now I never caught on to just how evil, sadistic and scary she is, or is supposed to be, in all my years of consuming DC media. In 'Barda', she is a psychopathic, sociopathic dictator, and an abusive maternal figure to Barda and the other Furies, who loves to manipulate, torture and break others, under the guise of a sweet little old lady (she is short in this graphic novel, anyway). Everything she does is twisted and cruel; she has no standards, there is no line she will not cross. If she knows your weakness, knows how to break you, either to subjugate you or just for fun, then you're as good as dead, if not actually dead by her torture devices. She dominates and controls out of "love" and "concern", see, like most domestic abusers in real life. She achieves both passive-aggressiveness and physical aggressiveness simultaneously and flawlessly - her words cut as sharply as her actions, and her tools and weapons. She is creative in her sick abuse.

She is terrifying. On a deep-seated, almost triggering level.

Has any incarnation of Granny Goodness ever worked with the Joker? I think they would get along like a literal house on fire, or the Joker would be too disturbed by her to want to be associated with her again.

It's great to see Barda eventually break free of Granny's abuse and brainwashing - that love is bad and wrong, and dominance and cruelty are right and necessary. She succeeds with the help of finding an old "propaganda" romance book on a battlefield, which she keeps hidden, and flowers that can't possibly grow on Apokolips (right?), and the prisoner Scott Free, whom she is assigned by Granny Goodness to torture. I have to wonder if the other Furies will also see the light someday, and escape Granny, Darkseid and Apokolips...

Oh, but I have to comment on the comic's problematic race representation: Why is Lashina, a Black woman and the only POC character (as far as I can tell), portrayed as unconscionably barbaric, and after Barda's position as Granny Goodness's right-hand soldier and torture instrument?

'Barda' - heartbreaking and devastating, yet amazingly hopeful by the end... though it's a slow burn, with baby steps towards change (it's a realistic depiction of the book's themes that way). It is a solid recommendation by yours truly, for anyone who is a fan of Big Barda, or is interested in her; curious about her and her origins. Her dark, painful origins. And bright, loving present and future.

Her story has a message to all abuse and trauma victims out there: There is hope. There is always a way out; a chance of escape. You are strong. Stronger than you think. Keep going. Keep trying. Move forward. Things will get better, even if it doesn't seem like it right now.

Believe in love.

Final Score: 4/5

Graphic Novel Review - 'The New Girl' by Cassandra Calin

The one word I would use to describe 'The New Girl', the debut graphic novel by Cassandra Calin, is: Cute.

My good goddesses, 'The New Girl' is one of the cutest, and most relatable, middle grade slice-of-life graphic novels I have ever read.

I love the artwork - it is sort of like Calin's 'I Left the House Today!', but in colour, and much more vibrant, expressive, and diverse in its character designs. And like her anecdotal comics, 'The New Girl' is very relatable and true to life, as well as funny as all get-out.

It's a twelve-year-old immigrant girl's coming-of-age struggles and mishaps, set in France, and it's partly based on the author's own childhood and schooldays. Growing pains for young girls, especially those coming to live in a different country, are real; including the physical kind, as they get their first period. The pains won't stop!

Lia Iordache, our Romanian protagonist, finds it hard to fit in and make new friends. Above all she finds it hard to adjust to an entirely new school system, such as how it grades students, and the various language barriers. It's a change in life that's difficult to keep up with and improve upon. How overwhelming everything is!

There's a lot about school in 'The New Girl' that quite suddenly brought back memories of when I myself was a naïve, shy, creative, insecure, overwhelmed social outcast schoolgirl. Example: like Lia I also wanted to make friends in school, with people who I thought liked me, and we shared commonalities, but it turned out they didn't like me, and they accused me of being clingy. Of following them around when they in fact wanted nothing to do with me. That part hit me hard. Lia's love for a Magical Girl comic series, 'Spell', reminds me so much of my love for 'W.I.T.C.H.' when I was in school, too! We both love Magical Girls and witches! Oh relatable hearts!

I loved being with Lia throughout her journey, spanning from September to Halloween to her birthday to Christmas. Even through her period pains, and heavy flows (no blood is shown, though), for they are realistic. Fantastic props for the information on options for menstrual issues, BTW. She comes to join in an adorable and supportive international female friendship group, has a crush on a boy, becomes a member of her school's magazine committee as an artist, collects loads of different imported sweets and candy bars from all over the globe from a grocery store, and slowly but surely understands more French and English (there's also a bit of Mandarin in here). Hooray for our multilingual, Magical Girl-loving, artist protagonist!

I've got to love too that the girls in this comic have acne. These pubescent, diverse AF girls - Lia, and her new friends Ivana, Sarala, Natalia, Zi Mei, Wan Yin, and Amy - are so real, and they care about each other so much, it's beyond heartwarming. There's a little LBGTQ+ rep that's revealed near the end, to boot.

'The New Girl' has a strong family theme, to go with its friendship, adolescent crush, and fish-out-of-water themes. Lia's parents and grandparents are lovely. It's good to see she has family and friends back in Romania she still keeps in contact with.

To wrap it up like a pretty pink present, 'The New Girl' is a warm welcome of a modern middle school graphic novel for young girls. If you like 'Cross My Heart and Never Lie', or 'Living With Viola', or 'Huda F Are You?', then definitely check it out. It's like visiting refreshing, flourishing, affectionate, blossomy, bosom girl buddies; the love and passion, the details, put into it is infectious and all-encompassing. For a book about change and being in a strange new environment and trying to find where you fit in, it is like coming home. A few characters could have been more developed, and the ending is kind of abrupt (it can't be the end, NO!), and the focus on Lia's boy troubles is prioritised over her female friendships (I don't particularly care for "romances" between twelve-to-thirteen-year-olds). But overall it is so sweet. And CUTE!

Thank you, Cassandra Calin. You are super talented, passionate and driven.

Final Score: 4/5