Although Taiyo Matsumoto desired a career as a professional soccerplayer at first, he eventually chose an artistic profession. He gained his first success through the Comic Open contest, held by the magazine Comic Morning, which allowed him to make his professional debut. He started out with 'Straight', a comic about basketball players. Sports remain his main influence in his next comic, 'Zéro', a story about a boxer.
In 1993 Matsumoto started the 'Tekkonkinkurito' trilogy in Big Spirits magazine, which was even adapted to a theatre play. He continued his comics exploits with several short stories for the Comic Aré magazine, which are collected in the book 'Nihon no Kyodai'. Again for Big Spirits, Taiyo Matsumoto started the series 'Ping Pong' in 1996. 'Number Five' followed in 2001, published by Shogakukan.
So, here's a seeming departure from the usual high literature I read and review. Here's a Japanese Manga (comic book), one of those things that in the USA, nerdy kids who need to get out of the house more read.
Ok, yes, it IS one of those. But it's so much more. In this case, it's a story of a boxer nicknamed Zero, because he's never lost, nor even been knocked down. His strength is more that legendary, it's enough to be borderline supernatural. Zero is a story about power, and it's cost. Not in a Shakespearean live-by-the-sword-die-by-it sort of way, where the power itself is the downfall of the subject, but truly Zero examines the price within a man for his own power, his devotion, his perfection, and also the people who support him. Rarely has any work, much less a graphic work even begun to to approach Zero in it's understanding of the feelings of a coach, watching powerlessly in the face of victory or defeat. I can't say that most of you will or even should read this. If you're into serious soul-searching about the balance of humanity and power, or into Taoist philosophic martial arts, you'll probably find some serious fodder for thought here. What's so special is that Zero brings it's story with a minimum of text, and presents almost no ideas or exposition to make it's case. It evokes them purely, through the art, and the events. Anyone can simply expound on their ideas to force the reader to consider them. It takes a true art to make the reader think about something while never saying it's name.
I'm sure that if anybody reads this review (doubtful) then there might be a few people who end up reading Zero, and being disappointed by finding nothing but a sort of crude boxing story, and be mad at me for saying I found all this other stuff inside of it. But one thing I learned many years ago now is that most secrets aren't actually secrets. It's just that people who aren't ready, can't see them. It's invisible. So maybe you have to be a certain person, with a certain background, who looks at the world a certain way. I suspect you know if you are. And if you are, you'll want to read this.
Les fleurs de la folie ou l’histoire du boxeur trentenaire Goshima
C’est un Taiyō Matsumoto qui prend ses marques, qui débute, un univers graphique et thématique à l’état embryonnaire qui ne demande qu’à se développer, qu’à exploser: utilisation poétique de métaphores, la marginalité du personnage principal… Plusieurs éléments qui feront la puissance de Ping Pong. Le découpage du premier tome est très conventionnel, alors que le second aura tendance à se libérer des contraintes à mesure que la folie gagne du terrain et que le climax se rapproche. L’utilisation du noir est magnifique et le tome 2 est marqué par certaines cases particulièrement sublimes. D’un point de vue narratif, le contrepied est ici de prendre un personnage en fin de carrière alors que les mangas de sport ont tendance à s’attarder sur les jeunes en pleine ascension et de suivre cette ascension. Cela dote le manga d’une certaine mélancolie malgré la folie de Goshima, tout en se concentrant sur la fin d’une ère, d’un rêve. Et c’est ce qui est absolument brillant dans ce titre (aux antipodes d’un Coq de Combat): à travers un match occupant tout le second volume, Matsumoto développe une connexion entre deux personnages, et l’action n’est que le prétexte d’une transmission tissée subtilement, puis ostensiblement au cours des chapitres. En plus d’être de plus en plus palpitant, Zero est extrêmement touchant, malgré ses petits défauts qui paradoxalement renforcent cet attachement. Zero est aussi le titre le plus tragique de son auteur, le plus éprouvant, le plus mélancolique. Mais Zero était surtout une promesse, celle d’une grandeur à venir, et on sait depuis longtemps que cette promesse a largement été tenue.
I enjoy sports manga a lot but this is bad. The art is ugly, normally Taiyo Mastsumoto drives his story by experimenting with the art but here it was not like the art complemented the mediocre story.