Nagata Kabi’s autobiographical “diary” manga caused quite a stir when it was first released. It’s a raw, messy, provocative piece. A relentlessly honest document of her struggles with extreme anxiety and self-loathing, expressed through cycles of self-harm which bring momentary relief. Kabi longs for emotional and physical intimacy but her hatred of her own body and her all-consuming, self-doubt makes this, along with her hopes of becoming a fully-fledged, manga artist, seem an impossible dream. After years of failed, dead-end jobs interrupted by extended periods of withdrawing from the outside world altogether, Kabi finally allows herself to admit that her desires revolve around a deep yearning for other women, so she hires an escort for a session in one of Japan’s many love hotels.
I found aspects of Kabi’s story intensely unsettling. It’s presented in a series of breathless episodes that fast forward through several years of Kabi’s life. Although Kabi records her progress as an artist who finally achieves recognition for her work, her book’s primarily centred on suffering. Kabi, deliberately or not, seems to be positioning her readers as voyeurs here, spying on Kabi’s most private, personal experiences. I really felt for Kabi, she’s incredibly fragile and alone, but I sometimes found her (inevitable) self-obsession exhausting and disturbing, even when I could understand exactly what was driving it. The sex workers Kabi encounters are sympathetically drawn, and her time with them is an effective counter to the notion that sex work in Japan exists only because it’s necessary for men’s sexual health – although sex workers themselves are still heavily stigmatised in wider society. But I wasn’t entirely convinced that Kabi saw the women she hired as individuals in their own right, she often seemed to be treating them more like props for the fulfilment of her own fantasies - she’s so intently focused on her own needs and her own insecurities there’s no space for anyone or anything else.
Kabi’s artwork has a kind of handmade, DIY aesthetic that's often associated with self-publishing and zine culture. There's a distinctive, rough-around-the-edges immediacy to it. It's predominantly black-and-white intermingled with flashes of pink, a choice that somehow underlines her predicament. Kabi's depicts herself in a style that invokes cute, chibi characters but cleverly subverted to convey her vulnerability and pain. Similarly, her emphatically lesbian narrative echoes, yet undermines, popular manga subgenres depicting romance and/or sex between women predominantly produced by, and for, men. Stories which some critics have described as lesbian content without lesbian identity, where desire between women is either represented as a passing phase - ultimately posing no real challenge to heterosexuality - or as a performance designed for men’s consumption/pleasure.