It was after classes that I had found myself browsing through random manga and light novels at my local Japanese book store. It was then that my eyes met with a book sporting one of the most colorful (and distinctly Japanese) covers that I've seen on the shelves. Of course, curiosity kicked in. Picking the rather small volume up, its caption line drew me in from the get-go: “Fiction and Manga from the cutting edge of Japanese Pop Culture.”
Yes, please. That, my readers, is how I encountered the first volume of Faust: a collection of things for the light novel/manga/anything-related-to-Japan fan.
This review, however, is for the second volume of the Faust anthology. The second volume also sports a very unique cover by the same artist as the previous anthology, by the name of take. Unlike the familiar class curriculum style of short story compilations, Faust gives a small dose of Japan's light novel scene with deliverance. While we (on the US side of things) have not had much exposure to light novels in general, everyone should be familiar with – or at least have heard – of the Haruhi Suzumiya series. While there are several other noteworthy series out in English thus far, a lack of updates felt rather stifling for the demanding light novel reader. The Faust anthologies help to alleviate the pain of waiting for these updates, while providing stories of interest by authors that we may not be familiar with yet. The stories in Faust, or novel excerpts, as is the case in most anthologies, range from genres of Magical Girl, Mystery, Science Fiction, Action, or simply Bizarre. While I could repeatedly pound the book over one's head, while urging him or her to run out and buy both volumes of Faust, it simply would not do the content justice, and so –
The Review
Each volume of Faust presents to you a cover with a gorgeous design, and the list of authors and artists that are presented in the given volume. A name most readers may recognize happens to be the first on the list of the second volume. Takeshi Obata – known for his art found in the Death Note and Hikaru no Go series. That alone should be enough to hook most anime and manga fans. Still, there was yet another name that meant something to me – that of NISIOISIN.Now, I picked this anthology up with a lot of bias. Same goes for the first volume, actually. Before Faust, I've had a bit of experience with light novels, mostly positive. Zaregoto: The Kubikiri Cycle, NISIOISIN's debut work in the light novel world, was my introduction to this author. “Magical Girl Risuka” is the first story you will flip to within the covers of this anthology. While one could guess, the story happens to be about a girl with magical abilities, which still adheres to Nisioisin's writing style of the mystery genre. While hype gripped me and urged me to delve into the story on the spot, I decided to purchase the volume before going further. (Like any fan should!) While reading it on my train ride home, a familiar feeling crept up from within me – it was a similar grip I felt while reading Zaregoto: The Kubikiri Cycle, or even from reading the Harry Potter series. Again, I heard a voice resonate in me, “this is great!”
“Magical Girl Risuka” is a story told from the point of view of a protagonist with quite a severe case of superiority complex. To clarify, first of all, the protagonist does not happen to be the girl named Risuka. While not the narrator, the story does happen to revolve mostly around her – and thus, the title. Expectedly, being one of Nisioisin's original works, the world of “Magical Girl Risuka” happens to be a rather peculiar one. It is a world in which the existence of magic is only slightly out of the norm, and a world in which witches and wizards choose to live in their own part of Japan, moderately (and legally) isolated from those without magical abilities. Many of these peculiarities are enough to call upon the reader in me, as modern fantasy presents an interesting look at a mix of technologies and magic in a more unique manner than in medieval or high fantasy stories. Imagine my surprise, when magic is shown as “just another nuisance” in the world of “Magical Girl Risuka.” While (surprisingly) not my favorite in the book, it comes as a close second, and proves itself a very worthwhile read, even if it leaves the reader wanting more with, sadly, no guarantees of the rest of it being printed in English.
It is hard to find a fault in the covers of the Faust anthologies. Yet, one finds disappointment creeping in... “ECCO,” distinctly, is my least favorite story. The prologue had me groaning for a good while. It was vague. It was confusing. After a few pages into the main story, I groaned once more – I failed to see the correlation between the prologue and the story itself. The main story, however, was very likable. It proved to be a strange hurdle. It begins with the scene of a snow-covered evening. One may wonder in confusion what the girl means when she states, “Damn it. It's ECCO again.” Yes, it's ECCO again. Whatever that may mean.
Now, while I'd like to avoid a critical analysis of the story or the series in general, I'm working with what I have: Just a small excerpt of the story (I'm assuming). While I'm aware that such a small portion of the story doesn't lend well to showing off the “meat” of the story, it is a myriad of puzzling interactions. For example, what ECCO is, and how the prologue ties into the story is presented very loosely in the beginning and only in detail at the very end of what we are given, thus rather forcefully taking the reader along for a ride in which direction and purpose may be lost for the most part. While I point out the many problems I had with the story, I still liked it. The main story within the few chapters we are given of the more pedestrian side of things proves to be, surprisingly, a very enjoyable read. This story, as with “Magical Girl Risuka,” shows a protagonist that seems to have difficulty adjusting to the social norm. “ECCO” shows a protagonist with a more violent superiority complex, though it proves to be his undoing, as he is never taken seriously by those around him. In similar vein as with “Welcome to the NHK” series, the story shows a girl trying to save the protagonist from his social doom. All the while the protagonist wonders why a sudden transfer student may be trying to be kind to him and befriend him, the story takes a wild change of pace when a bit of her insanity slips through. At this point, we enter the “what is ECCO” stage. The sudden shift in story brings in the meaning of ECCO, and the girl's sudden awakening into a new personality, one which opposes ECCO and means to recruit the protagonist. While the set up was there, what I felt was detriment to the story was the abrupt change in pace.
Given the small bit of content we are given, it should be noted that despite the best efforts of the Faust staff, they cannot cater to all fans. Individual preference is a big portion of reading, after all. While I found “ECCO” to be a lacking experience, it may still find home in certain readers' hearts. These two examples show the high and low of my experience with it, but both stories still had parts that resonated in me, as with the rest of the book. Should you, reader, come across a similar situation, I urge you to stick with it and read on – you may be pleasantly surprised by how much you have come to enjoy it at the end. The Faust anthologies have yet to fail me, and each volume seems to be a very worthwhile purchase that I would not mind coming back to even after having perused through each story. Faust deserves the shelf space in homes of every fan of Japanese pop culture, and I urge you – go check it out at your local book stores. Who knows, you just might find yourself spending a whole afternoon with a volume of Faust in your hand.
© 2009 Linda Thai
Thank You Ali Kokmen for the Faust 2 cover art!
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