Train Man Rides On ...

From Otaku Zone, Jan 2007

TRAIN MAN: A Shojo Manga Paperback

Story: Hitori Nakano

Art: Machiko Ocha

Publisher: Ballantine Books;

179 pages

(ISBN: 0-345-49619-1)

For ages 13+

IKUMI Saiki is an anime fanboy. This breed of humans is notoriously anti-social. They do nothing but read manga, watch anime and hang out on Internet message boards. But, like most geeky fanboys, Ikumi harbours hopes, albeit not very high ones, of having a social life and, most importantly, a girlfriend. Well, wonders never cease, but one day, he tells a drunk off for harassing a girl on a train. The girl is impressed and grateful and sends him a pair of pretty Hermes teacups. Ikumi is filled with hope … could she be the one?

If you’re a manga fan, this story should ring bells. There have been several other versions of it, not to mention a television series and a movie! In fact, Train Man is based on a true story and its original printed form was edited copies of message board conversations between Ikumi (who called himself Train Man) and his various online friends to whom he turned to for advice on how to win the heart of Hermes (as the girl on the train was nicknamed, thanks to the teacups).

It’s a rather sweet story, I guess, if you’re into happy endings, but I don’t think it merits all the publicity it has received. Only in Japan, surely!

This manga was a chore for me to read. The way the pages are sectioned, it’s not very obvious what order the text should be read in. I also had problems recognising Ikumi. His hair seems to change colour every other page. Maybe it’s what they call art! Maybe I’m too cynical and this story is just too upbeat for me!

I wonder what the real Ikumi and Hermes are up to now. Instead of 500 versions of the story of their blossoming romance, someone should write a sequel. Are they still together, I wonder? Or has Ikumi, flushed with success, taken to stalking girls in trains and/or become a playboy? Someone hunt them down and find out!

A Reader Unravelled

From StarMag

Review by DAPHNE LEE

THE COMPLETE POLYSYLLABIC SPREE: THE DIARY OF AN OCCASIONALLY EXASPERATED BUT EVER HOPEFUL READER

By Nick Hornby
Publisher: Penguin Viking, 278 pages
(ISBN: 978-0670916722)

I LOVE spying on people as they browse in bookstores. I pay attention to what the person in front of me at the cashier is buying. I always want to know what my friends and family are reading and what they have blown their allowance/pay packets on at their favourite bookshops.

That's why I love Nick Hornby's collection of articles about books. I was thrilled to see, on first flipping through this book, that each chapter begins with two lists: “Books Bought” and “Books Read”. If you are a book addict, you'll know that the two lists don't always overlap. If you own over a thousand books and you haven't stopped buying more, it's unlikely that you will read every book you buy the moment the shrink-wrap comes off.

First of all, there's the question of mood. You may want to (nay, need to) buy a book on the spot, but, years may pass before you feel like reading it! This is why my bedside table is stacked with books. I'm usually in the middle of at least three at any one time because I never can tell what I'll feel like reading first thing in the morning or last thing at night.

It's good to see Nick Hornby publicly identifying with and acknowledging the problem. Not that it really is a problem. It's only those spoil sports who read maybe half a book every couple of years who see it as such. Their main concern would probably be shelfspace or lack thereof, but if you truly love to read and like owning what you read (or will, one day, so help you God, get around to reading), shelfspace ceases to be an issue. Who needs bookcases when there are other kinds of surfaces that will as readily hold your books? Who says your wardrobe is only for clothes? Or kitchen cabinets are just for crockery? Has it ever occurred to you that there's a lot of useable space under your bed?

Anyway, if you're an enthusiastic reader and buyer of books (and if you're a Hornby fan) you will love The Complete Polysyllabic Spree. It comprises two year’s worth of the author’s column, Stuff I’ve Been Reading, for American literary magazine The Believer, and, besides revealing that Hornby buys a lot of books and reads a lot of books but that the lists don't necessarily overlap, it also describes the method-in-the-madness way he chooses his reading material; how one book or author leads to another; what makes him want to read more, and what puts him off the activity.

It's all written in a very chatty style. And at times Hornby also nags and whines, scoffs and simpers. But that's the book's greatest charm. You don't feel intimidated by Hornby. You don't think, “Cor, he's so widely read, how will I ever catch up?” and “My goodness, that book sounds deep! He must be a clever clogs!” Hornby is like that friend with whom you go book-hunting on weekends, who sometimes buys books simply because of their cool covers and who's looked at his copy of Candide for the past seven years and never ever felt the slightest inclination to read it. In short, a perfectly normal, ordinary guy who just happens to like reading.

He does read widely, but he's guided by curiosity and a desire to have a good time, not worthy reasons like the pursuit of knowledge and the quest for peace. We've all been at the mercy of people who stroke their chins and say stuff like, “Denise Robbins? What could a book by her possibly teach you?” Oh, yawn.

I have not learnt a whole lot from Polysyllabic apart from the titles of some books that I might very well enjoy and the fact that Hornby is, like me, the sort of person who panics about silly things like not having something to read (even though they live in a house where there is no where to park your bum because there are stacks of books on all the chairs). He is also the sort of person who might impulsively buy books on obscure subjects like the migration patterns of the peregrine falcon. I am much comforted by this fact as I once bought a book on fly fishing in New England.

Hornby is as funny, wry and sarcastic in Polysyallabic as he is in his novels, but this book is a much more enjoyable and relaxing read than his fiction because whereas his characters are always in the midst of personal crises and trying to come to grips with life, Hornby, the main character, so to speak, of Polysyallabic, is just a man wandering aimlessly through a wonderland of books, rambling on, rather pointlessly, but quite engagingly, about the delights and frustrations of reading. Well, it suits me anyway and I can't see why anyone who loves books wouldn't be just as entertained.

Sunday, January 28, 2007 in Book Reviews

Prince of Darkness

I'm currently biting my nails over Elizabeth Kostova's The Historian, which is part-detective, part-horror fiction, about a group of scholars investigating the truth behind the legend of Vlad the Impaler, the cruel medieval ruler whose crimes formed the basis of the myth of Dracula.

Reading this book, prompted me to re-read Bram Stoker's Dracula. Coincidentally, two new versions of the classic tale arrived on my desk about a month ago: an illustrated edition, and a graphic novel.

Review by DAPHNE LEE

THE ILLUSTRATED DRACULA

By Bram Stoker

Illustrated by Jae Lee

Publisher: Studio, 400 pages

(ISBN: 978-0142005156)

PUFFIN GRAPHICS: BRAM STOKER’S DRACULA

Adapted by Gary Reed

Illustrated by Becky Cloonan

Publisher: Puffin, 176 pages

(ISBN: 978-0142405727)

AS my eldest sister (who is 13 years older than me) was a fan of the macabre, in particular vampire stories, I was familiar with the legend of Count Dracula from a tender age. My earliest brush with the aristocratic fanged one was even before I turned five. My sister took me with her to watch Christopher Lee in the Hammer House of Horror cult classic, Dracula. This was probably very silly of her, but, thankfully, I suffered no lasting damage from the experience. (Some may disagree though.)

I have next to no recollection of the movie (although I do remember Dracula’s blood-red eyes), but I understand that although it is based on Bram Stoker’s Dracula, the script is not faithful to the novel.

For example, the film begins with Jonathan Harker arriving at Castle Dracula with the intention of killing the vampire. Although he manages to destroy one of Dracula’s brides, he is overpowered by the Count and is turned into a vampire. His fiance meets the same fate and both are killed by vampire-hunter Van Helsing.

In the novel, Jonathan is a solicitor at the English law firm hired by Dracula to purchase property for him and when he arrives at Castle Dracula, he has no idea that his host is one of the undead. He manages to avoid being bitten, although he does end up very ill. Later, his fiance, Mina’s life and soul is threatened by Dracula when the vampire sets up home in Britain. However, Stoker allows the couple a happy ending.

I suspect the movie wasn’t too scary or I would have remembered more of it ... just as I remember The Exorcist. The book, on the other hand, is one of the creepiest tales of horror I have ever read. It comprises the various characters’ journal entries as well as log entries, letters and newspaper reports.

I’ve never been able to believe that anyone writes such detailed journals as they do here (or in Bridget Jones’s Diary for that matter), complete with dialogue, but that may just be me projecting my own sloth onto others. It doesn’t matter though, because the reader gets so drawn into the story that unfolds that he soon forgets its source and is simply swept along by the events described.

Like the best scary stories, the details are subtly drawn, relying on the power of suggestion and imagination to horrify and repulse. The scene in which Jonathan Harker looks out from his bedroom window, in Castle Dracula, and sees the Count crawling down the wall is one of the most powerful in gothic fiction.

Another episode that makes a lasting impression is set aboard the ship carrying Dracula to England. The account, from the ship captain’s log, is dark, despairing and heavy with fear, dread and nail-biting suspense: One by one, ship hands disappear and the first mate suspects the cause to be supernatural. When his worst fears are confirmed, the captain makes a brave and horrifying decision. The episode ends with a newspaper article about the arrival of the ship in port with the dead captain strapped to its wheel.

The report is written in a dispassionate and stark journalistic style, but the facts, as they stand, are ghastly enough to make your hair stand, your flesh crawl, and all the other signs and symptoms connected with having the daylights scared out of you.

Two new editions of this classic story were published last year: an illustrated version and a graphic novel. Marvel Comics regular Jae Lee provides the artwork for the former – mostly terribly slick and sophisticated portraits, in which the subjects look posed. It’s all very beautiful and very cold, and not terribly inspiring. I also expected more action-oriented studies, for example, of the infamous wall-scaling scene.

I prefer the illustrations in the graphic novel, drawn by Becky Cloonan, which, although rather amateurish, possess a liveliness missing in Lee’s work.

Gary Reed, scriptwriter for the graphic novel, has done an admirable job, too. Stoker’s fans will appreciate how he has condensed the story without losing any of the marvellous atmosphere of the original, while those unfamiliar with the novel cannot fail but be enticed to read it.