Masterpieces

This oneshot combines everything that Inariya Fusanosuke is famous for, in terms of motifs. It is a powerful, jarring jewel, detailing the tripartite irony of tarot card mysticism, judeo-christian sensibilities, and the riveting reality of high-casualty 20th century wartime (before the dawn of a global mentality). The ending is so shocking that it may at first obscure any ability to see the detailed parallel structures put in place. Reading carefully is advised.

Is love something that you can cleanly fit into a box of rules? Homosexuality aside, brothers can't possibly feel connected in that way; if they do, they're simply mistaken. And yet Yutaka has been writing to his brother everyday for years. He lives in a summertime country home, where the cicadas are so disorienting and loud that the days seem to go by in a hot, bright numbness, much like the daze of his heart, as he recounts every cherished moment with his older brother.

This story is currently serializing. With 7 chapters, it is certainly worth watching! The main metaphor of the series concerns parasitic relationships; namely the infectious nature of a dirty consciousness, and the need to defile. From the maker of Choco Strawberry Vanilla, this historical read is dense, psychological, sensual, and increasingly picturesque. The storytelling format often opts to a very Nakamura Asumiko-type feel (a mangaka for whom has two series on this list already).

This story is beautifully executed and perfectly paced. Visuals of a starry night sky guide the reader through the present, to the past, and to the future. What is genuine in this work is compassion. No matter the age or circumstances of a person, their feelings are painfully articulate, whether in words or otherwise. A confession by an elementary student, the feeling of loss in an adult when they derail from following their dream, all these things paint a picture of the precious mundane.

This work is the first of Nakamura Asumiko's attempts at long fiction. It is a violent study of what it means to be an artist. Using the visual metaphor of a circus, Nakamura clues us into her own personal toils as someone who works to create art of a literary kind. Part of you may go crazy, part of you may die, part of you may be lost, part of you may be broken, but as though born a sacrifice from the start, circus is the art. And art is the beginning and the end of knowing itself.