Review: The Mammoth Book of Best New Manga

I'm going to level with you: I have two degrees in philosophy, with a distinctly analytic bent and a regard for the work of Ludwig Wittgenstein that borders on idolatry, so the vague, fuzzy, misleading or grammatically suspect use of language drives me nuts. The particular anthology under review at the moment is a fantastic collection of original and exciting comics, and I love it, but I have to preface the rave with a rant, because the title grates on me something awful.

Why is this book called "Best New Manga"? What is manga, anyway? "Manga" started as a Japanese word for certain kinds of painting -- Hokusai referred to some of his paintings as "manga". In the 20th century, it came to be used chiefly to refer to comics -- at first it was used in Japanese to refer to all comics (but mostly, in practice, Japanese comics, because foreign comics have never made much headway in Japan, being thoroughly eclipsed by the native industry), then it was imported into English to refer specifically to Japanese comics: that is, comics created in Japan, by Japanese artists, published by Japanese publishers, and sold first and foremost to a Japanese audience before being translated into other languages and sold to other markets.

That's the word's first transition, and frankly, I'd be a lot happier if it had stopped its semantic journey there, because after that stage, things got messy.

Because in the past four or five years, American publishers who made their fortunes by publishing translations of Japanese works (works that could be labelled as "manga" unproblematically) started branching out into publishing original works by English-speaking creators. Tokyopop was one of the first. And because their market loved manga, and only manga, they couldn't just call these new works "comics" or even "manga-influenced comics"; they called them "manga" or "OEL [original English language] manga". Which muddied the waters somewhat.

To clarify: The problem I have is not with non-Japanese artists being influenced by the Japanese style of comics (insofar as there is "a" Japanese style, but that's another rant). Artists pick up influences from all over the place, and that's good; it's right; it's the only way to keep artforms from ossifying and getting boring and sterile. From the first time a non-Japanese artist looked at Japanese comics and said "wow, that's good" there have been non-Japanese artists with styles that bear traces of influence from Japan; but only some of those artists have had their work classified as "manga", and whether an artist is sometimes described as "having a manga influence" or is outright pushed as a "manga artist" has sod-all to do with exactly how much Japanese influence is evident in their work, and everything to do with the marketing strategy most used by their publisher.

So the word "manga" is being used in a loose and sloppy way to the point where it's become almost meaningless. Which pisses me off, but I don't know that there's anything I can do about it. And The Mammoth Book of Best New Manga is just one instance of an irritating trend that shows no sign of being reversed.

That's the rant. Now the rave: The Mammoth Book of Best New Manga contains over 500 pages of material, almost all of which is really very good, and some of which is utterly superb. Jason Cobley & Neill Cameron's Bulldog Empire is a stunning parallel-worlds fantasy which manages to be gripping, coherent, intelligent, moving, and thoroughly action-packed while telling a dense and satisfying and complex story, all in about 65 pages. And it has transforming robots. And Emmeline and Christabel Pankhurst. It's wonderful. Asia Alfasi's "Jinn Narration" is a funny and fascinating look at Arab mythology, a mythology that doesn't get much airing in comics; Michiru Morikawa's "Advent" is a beautiful little chunk of comprehensible surrealism; Fehed Said & Shari Chankhamma's "The Healing" is just beautiful: evocative, moody, and with that sense of inevitability to the final plot twist that doesn't prevent it from being surprising; Kate Brown's "Station", Åsa Ekström's "New Shoes" and Sofia Falkenheim's "Instant Noodles" are all truthful and poignant little slices of real life drama; and Joanna Zhou's little one-page cartoons by the name of "Carlos & Sakura" and Craig Conlan's "Fat Panda" are just too damn funny.

Those are the notable stories, the ones that really leapt up and grabbed me; I didn't actually buy this book (got a free copy through entirely legitimate channels), but I think I would have paid the full price for "Bulldog Empire" alone, and felt I'd got a bargain. To get all these other amazing stories was a bonus, and if the others weren't quite as good, they were still good; "promising" is the word I'd use. All in all, this is a damned fine collection of comics, regardless of what you call them, and I thoroughly recommend it.