Friday, 30 May 2014
I'm completely the wrong person to review a manga.
My sum knowledge of the art form is from stolen glances on the Tozai Line at salarymen's copies that looked to me slightly less enticing than lugging around multi-coloured phonebooks through Tokyo's underground. But that was 15 years ago. The comics were impenetrable to me, being in Japanese. And upside down (I was invariably standing and the manga were on the laps of folk who had got on before me and so got seats.)
Well, that was until tonight.
Tonight, I finished reading Shigeru Mizuki's Showa, A History of Japan 1926-1939, An English translation of his history of the country, his life and his art. You probably know more about him than I do, so I'll just link to his Wikipedia page in case you don't and simply add that the guy is well placed to comment on the history of the Showa period, having lived through it all, much of it at the shitty end of the stick.
I've taken the liberty of scanning in three pages of the 500 in this manga just to give a flavour of the book. I thought at first it was just one damned thing after another (pre-war Japanese history as a series of Incidents and Puppet Governments, at least it was if all the history you know is to pass an 'O' Level. To a student, everything looks like a bullet point). But as time goes on and the pages fly by, you see, really see -- this is a manga remember -- how the Great Events of History impacted an imaginative but lazy kid having the good fortune to grow up in the wilds of Tottori, but the bad to have come of age at the time of dictatorship.
Read it. It's excellent. Unlike me, you haven't spent half your life deluded that comics are just for kids, have you? Because that would be a terrible mistake.
Labels: Books and such
Thursday, 15 May 2014
That’s a favourite saying of my brother’s. It’s useful in that it encapsulates in one pithy expression a great deal about life and, well, not an awful lot at the same time. It’s the c’est la vie and shoganai of the football fan or the news junkie.
It’s meet-the-new-boss-same-as-the-old-boss acceptance of the status quo.
Meanwhile, the ice keeps melting.
It is what it is.
Labels: Bollocks vaguely about sport
Friday, 9 May 2014
Keeping up with the news is a young 'uns game.
Maybe Our Man has ridden one too many news cycles, but when he saw Monica Lewinski was doing the rounds to "tell the truth" about what really happened on her and Bill's day that will live in infamy, Our Man was as nonplussed as usual. But he did have one thought:
Lewinski is 40.
I remember being 40. Well, it was pretty much like 39 and 41 and 38 and 42, except Our Woman did arrange a surprise party and managed to round up pretty much everyone Our Man had known in Japan and fit them in one room. And it was quite a big room, I'm happy to say.
Our Man has a new computer and the same-old, same-old urge to spout nonsense whether or not the NSA is keeping track.
So just wanted to say "hi".
Labels: Breaking news