So, today's comic is kind of minimalist! The next one
will have nicer backgrounds, probably!
Anyway, today I thought I'd talk in more detail about
two things mentioned in passing in my lengthy commentary
yesterday. Firstly, the
Dragon Half manga. As
Clyde points out in the shoutbox, the manga has actually
been translated and can be read
here.
The quality is pretty good, too. For anyone who didn't
see the anime,
Dragon Half is a comic fantasy about a Mink, a
girl who's half-human, half-dragon (her father was a
dragon slayer who ended up falling in love with the
dragon he was sent to kill). There's plenty about the
series to love: my favourite character is Lufa, Mink's
irresponsible, incompetent and perverted best friend,
although the most popular character overall seems to be
Damaramu, an astoundingly stupid knight who is
repeatedly killed and then 'rebuilt' in increasingly
unlikely ways. For people who have seen the anime, the
manga is truly fascinating because a lot of the
disparate and bizarre things that were dropped randomly
into the anime actually make sense in the original manga.
Also, there's this:

...which gave me a self-indulgent smile.
Another thing that I mentioned fleetingly last time was
Family
Compo, currently my favourite manga series in the
great sea of stuff that's not quite mainstream enough to
be licensed in the West, but has thankfully been picked
up by scanlators. I love this series. Basically, one of
my favourite themes in manga is that of gender
ambiguity, but especially if it's portrayed in a
down-to-earth, believable way (I'm less keen on the
'magical gender swap' sub-genre, although that can
occasionally be fun too). One licensed series I enjoyed
was
W Juilet, the story of a very, very butch
girl and her romance with a boy who, for various
convoluted reasons, is posing as a girl. The problem I
had with that series, though, was that as the story
progressed, the two main characters began to gravitate
more towards their traditional gender roles, as if such
things were necessary for a viable relationship. It felt
like a cop out to me, but it was still the best manga of
its type that I'd seen.
Until
Family Compo.
So,
Family Compo is a series that ran from 1996
to 2000, although due to the style, it looks a lot
older. It tells the story of Masahiko, a college student
who has lost both his parents, and receives an offer to
come and live with his long-lost uncle's family. It
isn't long after he meets the apparently unremarkable
Wakanae family that it emerges that his uncle is
actually the wife in the partnership, while her
'husband' is, in fact, a woman. Their daughter, Shion,
grew up with a slightly fuzzy understanding of gender
roles and thus routinely switched between dressing as a
boy or a girl throughout her childhood: in fact, her
physical sex is still a mystery to the main character.
In addition, Dad is a manga artist whose gaggle of
female assistants are all transgender too, and the main
character soon finds himself being forced to pose as a
woman for the purposes of a student film.
Despite frequent dips into farce, it's a thoughtful and
surprisingly sensitive portrayal of transgender life in
Japan, a country where up until very recently, sex
change operations were illegal. This is perhaps one of
the reasons that most of the transgender characters in
the series retain their physical sex. Unlike W Juliet
(which, granted, never made any claims that its
characters were actually transgender), the characters
are seen as genuinely happy in their adopted gender
roles, and even the slightly shell-shocked main
character quickly comes to accept that his adopted
parents are as normal a couple as any other.
Don't get me wrong, I have a few criticisms - the early
chapters perpetuate the manga myth that transgender
people have a slight tendency towards getting naked and
flashing their bits (something that also marred the
otherwise cute portrayal of the transgender policewoman
Aoi Futaba in Kosuke Fujishima's
You're Under Arrest),
and in addition I'm not quite sure about the recurring
theme that the Wakanaes' preferences might be
'catching'. Mind you, this could be seen as simply a
depiction of Masahiko's baseless paranoia, or even a
statement on the author's part that a more open attitude
towards gender is no bad thing. In any case, I'm quite
happy to live with these flaws, since they do little to
detract from the overall story, which continues to
surprise me as to just how heartwarming it can be.
Oh, and my favourite characters? The assistant manga
artists, definitely. Especially the monolithic,
unintentionally terrifying Kazu. I just want to give her
a big hug.