I don't read a lot of manga, and most of what I do read is several years old. The exception is Kiyohiko Azuma's Yotsuba!, the new volume of which was released here in the U.S. less than two weeks ago. The story is about a small child, named Yotsuba, who lives with her father and spends most of her time exploring the world around her. I've seen it compared to Calvin & Hobbes, which is not a bad comparison, but not entirely the same. They both have that ability to see how odd some things are that we take for granted. Calvin was in some ways wise beyond his years, certainly more cynical than Yotsuba, but possessed of a vast imagination that made for some fun adventures. The reader was sort of tagged along inside Calvin's head, so that when he saw his parents or teacher as a hideous alien, threatening the valiant Spaceman Spiff, we saw it the same way.
With Yotsuba, we're firmly outside her mind. Azuma will draw things so we see them from her perspective, but in the literal sense of us looking up at them as she would. Which can make them seem giant and/or intimidating, but if shes's picturing them as something else entirely, we don't know it. Yotsuba seems more surprised by everyday things than Calvin, so a lot of the humor is from her excited or exaggerated reactions to events we'd barely notice, and the reactions of everyone else to Yotsuba.
In Volume 12, she learns how to tie knots, the dangers of playing with paint without permission, goes trick-or-treating*, and the last half of the volume is a camping trip with some of her friends, and some her dad's friends. It's less about what Yotsuba's up to specifically, and more about how she interacts with everyone. Her varying responses to people noticing her hands are blue, her continued animosity towards her dad's friend Yanda, her brief attention span. There's a gag where she sees a flying squirrel on TV, and rushes in to tell her dad about it. Before she can, she notices he's cooking dinner, and gets distracted with that. So the story goes through dinnertime, Yotsuba fooling around with her new bike helmet, and then bedtime. It's only as she's falling asleep that she remembers to mention the flying squirrels to her dad, which leaves him completely befuddled as to what she's talking about. I don't know if that's an accurate representation of a kid or not - I can't remember if I was that easily distracted at that age - but it feels right. And it's funny, which is the important part.
There's also the variety of ways the supporting cast respond to Yotsuba. Her dad and his friend Jumbo mostly humor her - they're like big kids themselves sometimes - but can't resist messing with her. Fuuka tries to play the wise, cool older friend, but it rarely works. Yanda antagonizes Yotsuba, because it's fun (this is how I'd like to act around small kids). Torako doesn't know how to behave around her, and so she's awkward and mostly quiet (this is how I actually am around small kids).
What really makes the book, though, is Azuma's art. He has this wonderful knack for expressions and body language. Especially Yotsuba's expressions. I cracked up at least a dozen times just from faces he gave the characters. And he's very good at pacing the gag. Those faces often get their own, largely silent panel. Not a large one, but it's set up so that a) that face is the focus of the panel, and b) the eye is naturally carried along right to it. So I don't find myself breezing past without noticing.
* Apparently Halloween isn't a widely practiced holiday in Japan. Which sort of makes sense, given its origins. I assumed a holiday that encouraged kids to dress up for candy would find its way. Because kids like candy, and because adults love dressing kids up in silly outfits and taking pictures.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
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