On Ryukishi07’s Higurashi: When They Cry Manga Series

You’ve guessed by now that I’m a fan of manga (though I haven’t yet reviewed any for you). I’m actually a bit picky about manga, though. There’s a lot to like - and a lot to not like - in the average manga.

The 27-volume Higurashi series is no exception: it falls into some of the same pitfalls as many other manga series. Certainly it isn’t perfect. Despite this, though, it’s easily my favorite series (though not my favorite single-volume manga). And, since it’s such a great example of a psychological horror series, it’s finally time to talk about it.

Though the overall plot, for what it is, is highly fascinating - and I could easily rave about it for awhile - what actually stands out to me the most is the way the entire story is arranged. Throughout the 27 books, we're given an abundance of pieces that all point at the one, ultimate truth of the Higurashi universe. Along the way, though, the story continually "resets," so to speak, in a sort of give-and-take format.

Sounds odd, I'm sure. And until you get the hang of how the series works, it can be quite confusing at first. I can only explain so much without getting into spoiler territory, but I'll do what I can - the arrangement is worth discussing (since it's probably the most clever aspect of the entire series).

In order to explain the setup for you, let's start with a couple of the book covers:

 

The most obvious difference between the two are that the first one (which is the cover to volume 1) has a black background, and the second (the cover to volume 11), a white. This fact is important.

The series is separated into smaller sets of books called "arcs" - volumes 1 and 2 comprise an arc, 3 and 4, etc. (The arcs are anywhere from two - four books long each, with a couple single-arc exceptions.)

The black-backed arcs are known as the "Question Arcs" and the white-background ones are the "Answer Arcs." And, importantly, there's a direct correlation between a Question Arc and its Answer Arc. You read through all of the Questions first, before diving in to the Answers - which are continuations of their accompanying Questions.

(Each new arc is where the plot "resets," as I mentioned. Each takes you back to the very beginning of the ordeal to show you a new - and often contradictory - angle to the overarching story.)

As for the two books I showed above: the black is volume 1 of the Abducted by Demons Arc (again, a Question Arc), and the white is the first volume of the Eye Opening Arc - the Answer to the Abducted by Demons Arc.

Whew. Sound confusing? Probably. Once you have the pieces in front of you, though (and especially once you finally start in on the Answers), everything becomes much more clear.

- much more clear, that is, and absolutely phenomenal.

The series paints (and repaints, and repaints...) an incredible picture of the horrifying incidents in a rural Japanese village. All throughout, Ryukishi07 maintains a deeply unsettling, disturbing atmosphere that is psychologically gripping. Both the imagery and the plot twists are downright shocking, driving all the way to the incredible finale which will leave you in horror and disbelief and utter confusion until the penultimate volume, when the deepest truth is finally laid bare. You'll be shocked. More, you'll be electrified. (At least I was, and if you enjoy even the faintest whiffs of Japanese horror, you certainly will be too.)

...yeah, I know: sounds amazing, right?

It truly is.

REVIEW: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley

• Year first released:  1818
• ISBN of the edition I read: 
• Publisher of the edition I read:  Signet Classic
• My rating (out of 5):  5

Frankenstein's nameless monster, pleading with us, 

wondering how we've come to misunderstand the original story so badly.

Now that I’ve read both The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Frankenstein in close proximity to another, I realize that each suffers from the opposite problem of the other. As I explained in my review of Jekyll and Hyde,

[W]hat most people consider to be the heart of the story is actually left a complete mystery from the reader until over two-thirds of the way into the book. Nowadays, you go into the book knowing precisely what Dr. Jekyll is up to, when his actions are intended to be shrouded in a deep, eerie mystery - and, in fact, are meant to be the ultimate twist of the book.

In other words, most people nowadays already know the biggest secret/climax of the book before they even pick it up.

Frankenstein suffers from the obverse of this: what you think is the climax actually happens only a quarter of the way into the book.

Most modern adaptions of Frankenstein present us with the long-bearing struggle of Dr. Frankenstein as he tries, fails, tries again to create a monster – all the while growing insane, digging up graves, and being hounded by suspicious villagers/police officers – until, finally, just in time for the perfect thunder storm, he is able to accomplish the feat with a suspiciously timed lightning bolt striking his lab. “It’s alive! It’s ALIVE!”

And then he says, “Oops,” and the monster kills him. Or something like that.

…yeah, except none of that happens in the original. Like…none of that. No, really: none.

The edition I read of the book was 223 pages long. In it, Dr. Frankenstein succeeds at creating the monster on page 55. And neither before nor after this feat are we given scenes of police dodging, corpse desecrating, villagers mobbing, or storms lightninging. (Yes, I know that's not a word, but you get the point.)

Oh, and there's no hunchbacked assistant named Igor. Nor just a hunchback. Nor just an assistant. Nor just an Igor. But that's neither here nor there.

Weird how things evolve like this.

In fact, as you might suspect from everything I’ve explained so far, the actual creation of the monster is a far cry from the real heart of the book. Rather, the weight of the plot rests on what happens to the monster – and to its creator Dr. Frankenstein – after the monster is made (and immediately escapes). And it’s in this tale where the book truly shines, whilst simultaneously frightening us.

The fact that Dr. Frankenstein is able to create life out of non-life is certainly interesting, but not necessarily frightening on its own. What becomes of his new breed of life, though...

Well.

It’s one thing for a book to show us the inner workings – and, by extension, the inner depravity – of man. This is, for example, what Jekyll and Hyde excelled at so fantastically. In Frankenstein, though, Shelley creates for us a monster made in the image of man, but which is not a man – and, in so doing, creates for us a powerful exploration of many of the other ways in which depravity can take shape, while also serving as a perfect parallel to man himself, in his glory and gluttony. 

The monster's arc is a clear highlight of the book. Yes, the monster is certainly criminal, but his rise and fall - his misunderstandings about how the world works, the complete lack of compassion and empathy he is shown at every turn - make us wonder who is really at fault here. In fact, as Frankenstein himself wonders aloud time and again, we are forced to ask how deep the fault actually lies on him. What line has he crossed? Are the blood of the monster’s victims actually on Frankenstein’s hands? Is it ever okay to play god like this?

Taking the novel to be a look at both blind ambition and moral ambiguity, it would be harder to find a more fitting tale – which is, no doubt, what continues to make it such a powerful, lasting book 199 years after it was first published. 

Having High Expectations of Creators

First, my nigh-obligatory film anecdote:

When I first learned the Christopher Nolan was making Interstellar, I was jazzed. A combination of two of my favorite things—Christopher Nolan films and astronomy? My goodness, yespleaseandthankyou.

Not to bash him or his creations, but…actually, Interstellar was just okay.

In discussing it with my wife afterward, though, an interesting point came up:

Am I disappointed because the movie itself wasn’t so grand, or was it more disappointing because Christopher Nolan was the one who made it?

Further, if it is more the second one, is it really fair to judge a creation differently based on who made it?

This might be surprising, but the short answer, I believe, is: yes, it is fair.

Now here’s the long answer (which is the literature tie-in to the film anecdote):

One day while perusing Barnes and Noble, I stumbled upon a brand-new book called Looking for Alaska by John Green. (This was back in 2005, of course.) I bought it, read the entire book that afternoon (by the way, this is the first novel I read all in one day), and LOVED it. My goodness, it was incredible. In fact, it held the role of my “favorite modern book” for a few years.

The next year, Green’s next book, An Abundance of Katherines, came out. Of course I picked it up right away. Though it wasn’t quite as FANTASTICBEAUTIFULAMAZING as Alaska, it was still very, very good.

And then, a couple years later, Paper Towns came out – which, as you may have noticed by now, is my favorite modern novel. My very very very favorite. (Directly taking over the crown from Alaska.)

John Green was, quite simply, THE author.

Next up was Will Grayson, Will Grayson. And there’s really no easy way to say this – and I’m deeply sorry, John; I still love you – but…I couldn’t even finish Grayson.

I wonder: if someone else had written Grayson, would I have at least liked it a little more? Was I only disappointed because it was John Green?

Possibly, though it’s impossible to say for sure.

Here’s the rub, though:

I suppose it might not sound fair to say I dislike Grayson even more because it was John Green. And yet, the definite fact is that I only even bought it in the first place because it was by him. If I had never heard of John Green – or if, say, it was his first book – I think I would have read the back cover while standing in B&N, then set it back down. (That’s if I even picked it up in the first place, which I very well might not have, since it has both the least interesting title and the least interesting cover of all his books.)

That said, if I only read a book at all because it’s by a certain author, then I think it’s perfectly legitimate to judge that book against that author’s other work, and to hold it to a slightly different standard (than if it had been written by a different author). I mean, he got my money from that book because it's him - so doesn't it make sense to judge it differently based on the fact that it's him?

What do you think?

(Let me throw an extra little tidbit in here, so that I don’t seem like a complete jerk: John Green is still amongst the highest caliber of living authors. His follow-up to Grayson – The Fault in Our Stars – was back to being more typical, amazing John Green. And I’ve already pre-ordered his next book, Turtles All the Way Down, due out in October. So I certainly didn’t let Grayson leave me with a bad taste in my mouth.)

My Favorite Authors

In addition to highlighting for you all of my favorite books, it seemed worthwhile to spend a few moments on my favorite authors as well. Some of these, you’ll have guessed from my other posts, but certainly not all of them.

No biographies here, just a quick tidbit on what makes these people the best of the best.

Also no Shakespeare here, but that’s a story for another time.

Tell me, friends: Who are some of your favorites, and why?

(Alphabetical by last name)

Rob Bell

Best work: Velvet Elvis

Most known work: Love Wins

I don’t always agree with him, but he has a fantastic way of expressing his ideas. Much of my non-fiction writing is stylistically inspired by him.

Jorge Luis Borges

Best work: Labyrinths

Borges and Calvino are tied for the most influential authors on my own writing, particularly Borges’ short story Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius – seriously: I was completely blown away at the story and the structure of it.

Italo Calvino

Best work: Invisible Cities

Most known work: If on a Winter’s Night a Traveller

(As I just mentioned) Calvino is tied with Borges for being the most influential authors on my own writing. As a fun side note, I also own more books by Calvino than by any other author (and I only have about half of his books so far).

Joseph Campbell

Best work: the Power of Myth

Most known work: the Power of Myth or The Hero with a Thousand Faces

Admittedly it can be a bit difficult to get all the way through some of his books. He's incredibly insightful, though, and has made more connections between world cultures and religions than you or I ever could have on our own.

Umberto Eco

Best work: the Name of the Rose

An incredibly versatile author and thinker. Both his fiction and non-fiction are intricate and worthwhile.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Best work: Self-Reliance, the Divinity School Address, Nature

The genius of all geniuses. And yes, my son was named after him.

Michael Ende

Best work: Momo

Most known work: the Neverending Story

For some reason, I'm drawn to Ende's writings more than I can explain. I've also worked long and hard to collect all of his books available in English. Time/money well spent.

Kahlil Gibran

Best work: the Prophet

I'm not really sure how to effectively sum up Gibran in a tidbit like this. His words and ideas simply stand alone in their beauty and virtue.

John Green

Best work: Paper Towns

Most known work: the Fault in Our Stars

This shouldn’t be too surprising, since he wrote my number one favorite modern fiction book. He’s that rare combo of deeply hilarious and wonderfully insightful.

Aldous Huxley

Best work: Huxley and God

Most known work: Brave New World

Huxley is probably the oddest member of this list: as a writer, I’m actually not generally too wild about his books. They always seem to include some elements that rub me the wrong way. But as a thinker, the man is pure genius. For this reason, I tend to prefer his non-fiction.

C.S. Lewis

Best work: Till We Have Faces

Most known work: tough to say for sure, but possibly the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe or Mere Christianity

I’ve actually read more books by C.S. Lewis (14) than by any other author. What a brilliant, versatile person.

Cormac McCarthy

Best work: the Road

Most known work: All the Pretty Horses or the Road

The newest addition to this list. I’ve only read three of his books so far (The Road, All the Pretty Horses, The Crossing), but the man is a veritable gold mine of ideas and word play.

A.A. Milne

Best work: Winnie-the-Pooh

Milne holds a special place in my heart for being the author who really got me back into reading towards the end of high school, thanks largely to Winnie-the-Pooh. Also, his book Not that it Matters is sheer delight.

Jose Saramago

Best work: the Elephant’s Journey

Most known work: Blindness

Thanks to their sheer density, I can only read about one Saramago book a year - but those few hours out of the year are among the very best I spend reading.

Makoto Shinkai

Best work: 5 Centimeters Per Second

Most known work: Your Name

The only manga author on this list. He only has three manga so far, but every single one of them is absolutely stunning. If you're ever going to read even just one manga in your life, it should be one of his.

Zoran Zivkovic

Best work: Steps Through the Mist

Most known work: no clue - he's not too well known

A somewhat obscure Serbian sci-fi/fantasy author who crafts some of the most clever stories I’ve ever read. 

My Favorite Books

It seems appropriate to begin by spending a few minutes on some of my very favorite books.

Necessarily, this list is broken down into categories. People often talk about their favorite books, but whenever someone can identify one singular book as their “most” favorite, I am always suspicious.

I am able to compare a modern, literary fiction book against another. But how do I compare something like Cormac McCarthy’s The Road (a sparse, dreary, post-apocalyptic journey novel) to, say, Winnie-the-Pooh (a light-hearted, adorable children’s fantasy)? Is one of these definitively better than the other? – not that I can see. They’re completely incomparable. “Apples and oranges” and all that.

That said, I’ve broken this down into five categories:

• Modern Fiction (basically, anything fictitious from approximately the 1950’s or so onward)
• Non-Modern Fiction (what we call “classics” fit here, as well as any book that’s older than roughly the 50’s).
• Children’s Books (note that Young Adult books do NOT go here—those go in “Modern Fiction”)
• Narrative Non-Fiction (true stories, such as memoirs and biographies; the narration of certain events or time periods, etc.)
• Non-Narrative Non-Fiction (books that aren’t really meant to be stories, such as essays, spirituality, etc.)

Of course any one of these can be subdivided in a thousand other ways; I’m mostly looking at broad strokes here.

Also, please keep in mind:

This list does NOT go into the “most influential books ever” or anything of the sort. It strictly sticks to the books I enjoy the most. For example: yes, I know that Homer’s Odyssey is absolutely indispensable to literature as we know it. I don’t contest this fact at all. Surely it is one of the most important books we have. I don’t really enjoy it, though—ergo, you won’t see it on this list.

And, finally, I've included links for all of the books to where you can buy them from BarnesandNoble.com - that way you can partake of the same joy in them as I have. :)

Tell me, friends: What are some of your favorites, and why?

So then. Here we go…

Modern Fiction

1. Paper Towns by John Green
2. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safron Foer
3. Labyrinths by Jorge Luis Borges
4. The Road by Cormac McCarthy
5. Looking for Alaska by John Green
6. Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis
7. The Giver by Lois Lowry
8. Asylum for Nightface by Bruce Brooks
9. Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino
10. Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

Non-Modern Fiction

1. The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo
2. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
3. Dracula by Bram Stoker*
4. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley*
5. Hamlet by William Shakespeare
6. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson*

*(If you'd like to pick up all three of these in one cheap, fell swoop, Signet made that really easy for you here.)

Children’s Books

1. Momo by Michael Ende
2. Winnie-the-Pooh by A.A. Milne
3. The House at Pooh Corner by A.A. Milne
4. A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness
5. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
6. Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll
7. The Little Prince by Antoine de St. Exupery
8. Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak

Narrative Non-Fiction

1. The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
2. The Bhagavad Gita (I mostly read the Prabhavananda/Isherwood translation)
3. Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom
4. Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl
5. Seven Years in Tibet by Heinrich Harrer

Non-Narrative Non-Fiction

1. the writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson*
2. Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu (I mostly read the Charles Muller translation)*
3. Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell
4. Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller
5. Notes to Myself by Hugh Prather

*(Considering that these two books are #’s 1 and 2 on this list, The Tao of Emerson – compiled by Richard Grossman – is an absolute gem of a book, though it should not be considered a replacement for the two books themselves.)