Here I am, writing a review for a manga adaptation of a light novel, a review that I’ve put way more thought into than the genre can probably justify. It’s called a light novel, Alex. The clue is in the name. But I’m getting married in a couple days and my brain copes with stressful situations by hyper-fixating on trivial subjects. QED, I’m on Goodreads writing an unnecessarily detailed review with an unnecessarily detailed explanatory introduction, instead of you know MY MARRIAGE VOWS [laughing/crying emoji].
Cards on the table, I haven’t read a lot of manga. Because I don’t really enjoy it. And I find it confusing. I can’t tell if it’s a cultural disconnect, and I think that may be a part of it, but obviously there are plenty of non-Japanese people who enjoy manga. But I find most of it completely bewildering. And then I feel mildly guilty for feeling like it was written by extraterrestrials, because that seems uncomfortably xenophobic. But as with most things I don’t understand, I can’t help ruminating on why I don’t understand it or like it, instead of shrugging and moving on like a less obsessive person would do.
This volume of the series is, unfortunately, a good example of characters acting in ways that are nonsensical to me. Volume 1 & 2 were silly and enjoyable, but all of a sudden in vol. 3 Aresh is doing all this unjustified yelling and weird overprotective stuff that was too much. I mean, Kondou was ambushed and attacked by a group of disgruntled knights at the beginning of this volume and left for dead, so you’d think the author could have used that angle if they wanted to give Aresh reason to be (even more) protective. But instead he’s freaking out over Kondou styling his hair differently than usual for the ball or whatever (…and bro, I’m here to tell you it didn’t even look that different). And as a character trait, I don’t find “yelling at someone who’s been physically assaulted recently over their hairstyle” endearing.
Another part of the me-not-enjoying-manga thing is the ratio of UST to whatever the opposite of UST is. Sexual catharsis? So many mangas seem to treat the UST as the point of the narrative and I just don’t enjoy that. There’s got to be a measured build up, probably with some spikes and dips along the way, but ultimately with a payoff that makes the tension feel earned. Without that, I get bored and frustrated and the whole things feels pointless.
What’s intrinsically baked into this plot structure is the “they have to have sex because magic” trope. Which, to my mind, exists to showcase strangers having to negotiate physical and emotional intimacy in a way that isn’t possible in reality because it would be rape-y. It’s like the fake-dating trope to the power of 1000. The entire point of stories like this is that two characters are forced to have Feelings with a capital F together, but these two barely discuss anything at all ever. They each individually speculate about and obsess over what the other’s motivation is, but don’t ask the simple questions that they have ample opportunity to ask each other. And I would appreciate them talking to each other because I don’t actually know anything about either of them other than Kondou is a workaholic and Aresh is intimidating. Imagine. Two characters having a conversation that establishes their history, state-of-mind, goals, insecurities, likes, dislikes, regrets, sexual orientation, past relationships, strengths, short-comings, literally anything about them, for both the audience and the other characters. So that they can establish, I don’t know, a relationship or something. That’s a thing that romance stories typically have. But no, I still don’t even know if either of them actually enjoys the sex they’ve had on multiple occasions. Which is a problem. I can deduce that we’re supposed to assume they do enjoy it, but I’m not reading this fluffy fantasy BL manga for the opportunity to make cognitive leaps, okay. So far this has been a cycle of interpersonal conflict, tension, out-of-the-blue sex, and fruitless speculation, which was fun at first but is steadily wearing out it’s welcome.
Maybe all the whining I’m doing stems from the fact that, in general, I appreciate explicitness in love scenes over the “tasteful” pan-away, behind-closed-doors approach. In a romance, I’m here to get to know the characters and enjoy watching their relationship unfold. And sex generally tells you a lot about a character or a relationship. To my mind, it’s a very important part of that whole sïtuàtiōn and unless the author handles the story just right, it can feel jarring when it’s completely absent. And when about 50% of the interactions between the characters involve sex that isn’t depicted and then is never discussed between them, I’m nonplussed by what we’re meant to be doing here.
Also, the author chose to introduce a bunch of new characters and world-building in this volume which were not as well integrated as in the previous two. But I do like the art, which sounds condescending after I just complained all over the book, but I actually do. The style is clean and incisive and the expressiveness of the illustration works for the angsty brooding scenes, the over-the-top melodramatic scenes, and everything in between.
Has this entire review been a pointless attempt to parse my negative reaction to a highly successful form of entertainment that is ultimately not for me and is doing just fine without people like me “getting” it?
….Who can say.