One of my more rewarding impulse purchases, a random find at a used bookstore, and a delightful surprise! Some of my reflections:
~ narrative ~
This book follows the lineage of "experimental" or wordless comics, with its unconventional exploration of narrative through visual means. Plot elements are stripped down to a minimum, so the experience of "reading" feels more akin to that of taking in a scene that unfolds primarily through abstract landscapes and figures/machines in motion. "My manga does not begin with a narrative," explains Yokoyama, "It starts with a single image." These comics are best appreciated as serialized paintings.
~ text & graphics ~
The katakana text consists of mostly ridiculous Japanese onomatopoeia. While some reviewers (understandably) found the text distracting, I personally consider it integral to the overall aesthetic experience (though it definitely helps if you can read katakana.)
To begin with, Japanese characters register not only as symbols but also as visual graphics (the tradition of calligraphy as a case in point.) Traditionally used only by men and consisting of geometric characters, katakana stands as the least calligraphic and most masculinized of the Japanese alphabets—fitting for an illustrator who claims to remove any trace of human hand or craft from his designs. Moreover, the characters seem so graphically integrated into the images that they seem essential to the design. E.g. The foreshortened screams of "Waah!" in pp. 82-3 cut through the frames at an angle as if hurtling from the sky. I imagine this scene would not have the same impact without them And lastly, they serve the onomatopoetic function of classic action bubbles by making sound effects appear more vividly.
W/r/t the rare few texts that feature English script, Yokoyama claims, "I intentionally had the dialogue translated by a person who does not have a strong command of English. The dialogue will probably seem awkward to foreigners." Mistranslation becomes part of the garbled aesthetic Yokoyama employs to distanciate readers from the familiar human sentiment associated with vernacular language: "An interior or psychological representation would make my work humanistic, which I don't want…It may be that the pictures I draw are not scenes seen through human eyes."
~ visual design ~
Figures depicted in this book appear to be all male or androgynous. Whether they're human or simply anthropomorphic remains open to interpretation. Needless to say, the figures are highly stylized. Their faces bear a deadpan expression, about as cold and mechanical as a figure in a Léger painting. Their garb and gear serve as the only distinguishing feature to individualize their outward appearances. I liken them to model Lego characters in a modular Lego world (in a few of the comics, they're even assembled like robots).
Indeed, Yokoyama claims to be drawing from fashion and architecture in an attempt to convey an alien and world of artifice. Nowhere does this interest seem more apparent than in the Engineering series, where pristine landscapes composed of patterns and lines are modeled and remodeled with materials such as AstroTurf and blocks of carved stone.
~ flow ~
When not surveying the formal structure of the architectural landscapes, comics explore movement and flow. Action comics such as "Books" and "Model Room" aren't simply presented as fight scenes but as bodies in motion, forms colliding and interacting. Again, the author: "I don't like fighting but I do enjoy drawing the movement of bodies in combat, which is similar to that of bodies in sports." In fact, the inanimate objects deployed as props in combat (e.g. slicing a sword through a book, using a table as an improvised weapon, etc.) seem to take centerfold in these scenes.
I consider these fight scenes simply an extension of the explorations of movement in assembly and construction-oriented comics such as "Handicraft," "Upside Down," "Dress Up" and even the Engineering series. The actions seem to flow at a steadier pace in the latter case, such as in "Upside Down" where the pattern of repeating motifs gives off a sense of rhythm.
~ meaning ~
"Man, as living form, bears within him the eternal principle of being, and by economic movement along his endless path his form is also transformed, just as everything that lives in nature was transformed in him."—K. S. Malevich, Suprematist painter.
Throughout the book we witness variations of the same themes: assembly lines, tools, utensils, mechanisms, beings creating and destroying forms, rituals, mass gatherings.
Design seems to follow two basic principles: 1.) form follows function, 2.) form is the expression of arbitrary free play. The peculiar behavior of these beings, the odd forms they assume and create/destroy might appear foreign to us, but something registers as familiar when we take a step back and compare them to ourselves. They seem to mimic the human race, and in this light, their actions seem less perplexing but no less absurd. Perhaps this ceaseless play of tools and instruments parodies cultural codifications of masculinity.
From one angle their behavior seems cold, alien, nothing remotely human, and on the other there is something playful about them, as with the comparison to Léger paintings and Lego toys. Yokoyama claims he wanted to create new forms, but what I think he really did was accentuate a mechanical aspect of humankind already present in modern culture.