Un ragazzo approda sulla spiaggia di un piccolo villaggio di pescatori con l'arteria del braccio recisa dal "morso" di una medusa. La ferita è di quelle che causano morte per dissanguamento e il ragazzo vaga alla disperata ricerca di un medico senza che nessuno tra quelli che incontra voglia aiutarlo o mostri alcun interesse per lui o empatia per la sua disgrazia. Quello di Tsuge è un neo-realismo con una componente grottesca, morbosa e ossessiva che descrive bene il sentire della generazione nata dopo la Seconda guerra mondiale. Da una parte il villaggio, emblema della distruzione e della povertà della società giapponese post-bellica; dall'altra il protagonista, perduto in un incubo di straniamento e incomunicabilità che, per il tono distaccato e dimesso, può ricordare il nostro Antonioni.
Influenced by the adventure comics of Osamu Tezuka and the gritty mystery manga of Yoshihiro Tatsumi and Masahiko Matsumoto, Yoshiharu Tsuge began making his own comics in the mid-1950s. He was also briefly recruited to assist Shigeru Mizuki during his explosion of popularity in the 1960s. In 1968, Tsuge published the groundbreaking, surrealistic story "Nejishiki" in the legendary alternative manga magazine Garo. This story established Tsuge as not only an influential manga-ka but also a major figure within Japan's counter-culture and art world at large. He is considered the originator and greatest practitioner of the semi-autobiographical "I-novel" genre of making comics. In 2005, Tsuge was nominated for the Best Album Award at Angoulême International, and in 2017 a survey of his work, A World Of Dreams And Travel, won the Japan Cartoonists Association Grand Award.
My third (of a planned five) volume of the mangaka Yoshiharu Tsuge's works with an again terrific scholarly essay by Ryan Holmburg, who must be thanked by the comics world for his archival/analytical contribution to a serious focus on the social, aesthetic and cultural contributions of comics to the wider world. Again, hats off to Drawn & Quarterly for this gorgeous work honoring this important artist.
The title story “Nejishiki” (1968) is apparently iconic in Japan, even fifty years after its original publication, associated with a burst of experimental manga in the sixties. Holmberg says most critics praise its surrealism, which may be true, but it's also clear that the story is dream-like, possibly nightmarish. Regardless of how you name it, it is fascinating to see this work emerge out of the manga industry in this way at that time. I really like it, sad as it is.
Other stories feature a main character who may associate with the mangaka, doing what he does, traveling around, hanging out with the down and out. There’s a certain amount of nudity, and sexual scenes, which would have been remarkable for mainstream manga at the time; it’s not pornography, it’s character-driven, it’s reflecting society of the time.
“Master of the Gensenkan Inn” features older women, and a certain amount of strange atmosphere. “The Mokkiriya Tavern Girl” features a sad girl who plays drinking games with guys and wants to leave her job but knows she is stuck. “Master of the Willow Inn” features yet another sad girl and the sad narrator.
What’s the take-away here? Why read it? Serious comics for adults reflect artistic movements and social life. This is post-war Japan, not the happiest time in that country, of course, post-Hiroshima and Nagasaki, a proud country after a crushing defeat, with economic struggles, so these short stories are slice-of-life, a social portrait of an era. This kind of manga did not exist in Japan decades before this. So it opens up the art world to realist working-class life. Let the reader beware, though, that the stories here paint a sad portrait especially of women, who often seem lost and also sometimes abused in various ways by men.
"Gallo Nero prosigue su inestimable labor de traernos la obra del mangaka Yoshiharu Tsuge: Nejishiki es una vuelta de tuerca a todo lo que habíamos visto hasta la fecha del autor de Tokio. Si bien sus dos obras anteriores (La mujer de al lado y El hombre sin talento) nos habían habituado a un estilo de descarnado y crudo realismo, donde el minimalismo se daba la mano con la poética de lo cotidiano, aquí, en esta recopilación de once historietas, vamos a poder vislumbrar una nueva dimensión en su estilo. Lo onírico y lo pesadillesco hacen acto de presencia en la obra que aquí comentamos: dejando de lado su vertiente más realista, Nejishiki nos regala a un Tsuge totalmente liberado a sus deseos sexuales, donde los escenarios se convierten en un espacio repleto de pulsiones, de paisajes inconexos que se mueven entre lugares cotidianos en los que el tiempo se ha detenido. Tsuge se permite incluso juguetear con su trazo, con su propio estilo de dibujo, para entregarse libremente a las necesidades de su narración. Un juego, al fin y al cabo, en el que la realidad se confunde con lo onírico, y el dibujo, con la evocación." Alberto Martín
Um livro quirky, algo incómodo. Composto por histórias curtas surreais, difíceis de explicar, onde a lógica se distorce nas obsessões do autor. Há uma certa (daí o incómodo) propensão para a violência sexual, e uma visão do feminino meramente submissivo. Visualmente é interessante, tanto oscila entre intenso realismo como em visuais esfumados mais oníricos.
extremely tolerant, even enthusiastic, of sexual violence, also yes. It’s hard to give any stars to a book that seemingly blames women for all sexual violence despite the author clearly openly exploring his own rapt fantasies.
Aunque escapa de mis preferencias temáticas / género, soy consciente del mérito que le merece y de sus virtudes. El trasfondo onírico de las historias deja aflorar las imágenes o pensamientos más oscuros del ser humano, incluso llegando a ser desagradables para el lector. Aunque siempre bajo el escudo de pertenecer a eso, un sueño. Caracterizadas por un importante surrealismo, cada una de las historietas no deja indiferente.
Destacar la versatilidad técnica del autor, dando lugar a imágenes muy "básicas" que van des de lo abstracto, incluso con un punto naïf, hasta otras con un trazo muy detallado.
hay un componente frecuente de ultraviolencia sexual en la mayor parte de los cuentos, que luego de un rato debo asumir me desagradó bastante. no creo haber logrado distinguir el propósito de esa explotación tan absurda de las escenas de violación, por ejemplo, y no congenié mucho con el horror cotidiano que aparenta ser, y que, a mí parecer, parecía simple morbo y fetichismo, sobre todo viniendo de una figura masculina.
aún así, me gustó mucho el cuento “las manos en la ventana”, y la escena final de despedida entre el objeto inanimado que cobra vida -o memoria muscular- para despedirse de un compañero del pasado.
This is a difficult book to review. The drawings are extraordinary and the narratives shine, i think, a very honest light into internal thoughts and feelings that I can't help but know exist. They are the internal workings of disaffected and misogynistic expression. Throwaway attitudes that I recognise being on the receiving end of in varying degrees. That said, what is depicted multiple times is sexual assault. And the stories offer no real analysis of the protagonist(s) perpetration or impact on the women he does this to. It could easily be viewed by some as titillation, rather than horror. And I view it as deep, disturbing and fairly commonplace horror.
Another entry in D&Q's excellent collection of Yoshiharu Tsuge's various works. Holmberg's essays are incredibly thorough as always, providing a great deal of context for how, when, and why Tsuge made what he made.
The stories themselves didn't do a lot for me, but it is cool to look back at old alt-manga. A handful of the stories are like, 'I went to this town and thought about having sex and then I left', but still.
Tsuge’s a freak but we already knew that. Here he's really coming into his own and pushing boundaries. Not that I would call myself that knowledgeable about the era, but pretty amazing to consider this work being published in the late 60s/early 70s. Real twisted stuff. A lot that will make you uncomfortable and a lot that doesn't sit right in 2024. I might have read the essays if they weren't so long but from skimming through them, they are very thorough.
Came across Nejishiki while reading Jirō Taniguchi's Chloroform. Both stories are about a boy in a nightmarish post-war Japan.
I understand this marked the beginning of surrealism in Japanese manga, and I imagine it was controversial at the time. It shows the struggle, and the search for meaning.
Tsuge's Nejishiki is synonymous with dreams, with its Kafkaesque logic.
Surreal, strange, disturbing, these short manga stories are among the most unsettling stories I've read in a quite a long time. Quite a lot of them grab hold and won't let go, creating an almost haunted, disconnected sense of the character's experience. Highly recommended.
Considerato un capolavoro imprescindibile, Nejishiki è uno di quei fumetti giapponesi che bisogna leggere se si vuol comprendere il medium, la sua evoluzione e quel moto di ribellione artistica contro Tezuka che portò al gegika e all’interessamento di tematiche più adulte e crudeli. Sono sincero, le prime due storie contenute nel volume mi sono piaciute molto: è un neo-realismo surreale quello di Yoshiharu Tsuge che ti avvince e respinge allo stesso tempo. Più che rimanermi impressa la prima storia (quella del bambino con l’arteria del braccio recisa alla ricerca di un medico), mi ha colpito il senso cinematografico delle ultime due tavole della seconda storia. Sarei un bugiardo, però, se dicessi che gli altri racconti - intrisi di povertà - mi abbiano colpito in egual misura.
Modello a Vite **** Il propietario del Gensekan ***** La ragazza del Mokkiri Bar *** Il granchio *** Il propietario dello Yanagiya *** La fabbrica galvanica **
Partiendo de la base que en mi vida leí un cómic tan increíblemente raro y surrealista no se ni que puntuación darle Por cierto el comic se empieza de de la última página a la primera
This is the more mature work of Tsuge Yoshiharu - he's starting to look a lot of Miyazaki as Ryan Holmberg points out in the introduction. Very detailed ink rendering from photo references. It looks really nice.
The title story reminds me of a dream comic that Julie Doucet would become famous for in the 90s.
Surreal, dark and evocative. I hope the fourth volume comes out soon!