Fragments of Horror

Junji Ito’s 2014 collection Fragments of Horror presents eight short manga stories about ghostly and demonic women and their hapless victims.

In classic Junji Ito style, the plots are fantastic bordering on ridiculous, and the stories are enhanced by marvelously creative and grotesque imagery. You wouldn’t want any of these cautionary tales to happen to you, but it’s great fun to watch them happen to someone else.

Ito writes in his “Afterword” that Fragments of Horror is the first short story collection he’d published since 2006. He also writes that his editor was taken aback by the opening story, “Futon,” in which a young man stays in bed for so long that his blankets become a substrate for mushrooms with hallucinogenic effects. This story is only eight pages long, but it’s filled with vivid imagery, from the fungus-filled blanket being peeled off the man to the pandemonium of hellish creatures he hallucinates. Ito’s editor may have wondered if he’d lost his touch for horror, but “Futon” is a marvelous introduction to the collection.

The story that will probably linger in the minds of most readers (whether they want it to or not) is “Tomio – Red Turtleneck,” which is filled with exquisitely unpleasant body horror. I was amazed by the places this story goes. The opening scenario, which involves a young man named Tomio who only manages to stay alive by holding his decapitated head onto his neck, is bizarre enough; but, at the end of the story, a woman’s corpse rapidly decays on the carpet of Tomio’s girlfriend’s apartment as the ghosts of dead babies smile from the sidelines. Perhaps the most outlandish thing about this story, though, is how goofy it is. I could almost feel the grin on the artist’s face as he drew “Tomio,” which is camp horror at its silliest.

My favorite story, “Gentle Goodbye,” breaks from Ito’s signature campy tone to weave a more subtle and elegiac tale of a haunted household. After Riko marries into “the pedigreed Tokura family,” she notices something strange about their sprawling manor. Namely, there are ghosts about. These shadowy members of the household are mostly ignored, but they’re still treated respectfully. When Riko finally notices that these quiet presences aren’t just distant relatives but actual ghosts, her new husband tells her about a ritual that creates “afterimages” of family members who have died. So that she’s able to understand, he even invites her to participate in one of these rituals herself.

The afterimages created by the family are justified as a means of dealing with grief, but are they really that healthy, psychologically speaking? Or is it perhaps better just to let go?

“Gentle Goodbye” has a number of twists that it would be a shame to spoil, but I think it’s worth commenting on the story’s subtle social commentary. Riko loves her husband; and, though she’s a (relatively) strong and independent modern woman, she considers it an honor to marry into his family. At the same time, living in another family’s house while occupying a subordinate position isn’t an ideal situation, and there’s more than a touch of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca in Riko’s story. Who’s to say that Riko isn’t a type of ghost herself?

I’m also a fan of “Whispering Woman,” in which a wealthy widower hires a caretaker for his teenage daughter, Mayumi. Mayumi suffers from anxiety and decision paralysis, and her father has determined that she would benefit from a companion to help guide her through the day. Due to the level of time and attention required, most of Mayumi’s caretakers quit after a few sessions.

The young and beautiful Mitsu is different, however. Mitsu seems to be content to live vicariously through Mayumi, who appears to be recovering under her care and attention. Still, given that Mitsu’s private life is anything but healthy, it’s possible that she may have an ulterior motive in issuing quiet suggestions to her impressionable charge.

“Whispering Woman” is 24 pages long, but this story is a journey that manages to cover a lot of narrative ground and character development. It’s difficult to discuss such a short story without spoiling the ending, so let me just say: good for her. Good for both of them, honestly. I wouldn’t want to encounter any of the demonic women drawn by Junji Ito, but I’m delighted to cheer them on from afar.

I’ve always been somewhat lukewarm on Ito’s graphic novels, but I love his short story collections. Fragments of Horror is probably my favorite, from the ridiculous (and ridiculously entertaining) body horror of “Tomio – Red Turtleneck” all the way to the haunting gothic drama of “Gentle Goodbye.” Every story in Fragments of Horror is a banger, and this is the book I’d most strongly recommend to anyone looking for an introduction to the artist’s work. If you’re a fan of spectacular horror art and devilishly campy humor, then this hole was made for you.

The Shadow Over Innsmouth Manga

The Shadow Over Innsmouth is a gothic horror story in four acts. A college student on a self-guided architectural tour of New England takes an inexpensive bus that stops over in the isolated port town of Innsmouth. The student explores the town, and an elderly resident tells him about a wealthy sea captain who made an unholy bargain with ocean-dwelling fishpeople generations ago. The student is forced to stay in the town overnight, and the town’s hidden half-human residents chase him from his hotel. After successfully escaping Innsmouth, the student begins to question his own family lineage.

The writing in Lovecraft’s original 1931 novella can be difficult to parse, and the xenophobia of the narrative isn’t attractive to contemporary eyes. Regardless, this is an extremely influential story in the field of speculative fiction, with adaptations ranging from Alan Moore’s strikingly upsetting graphic novella Neonomicon to the ruined Fishing Hamlet of Bloodborne, not to mention countless stage plays, radio dramas, television episodes, indie films, video games, tabletop games, and even delightfully bizarre Christmas songs. Many of these adaptations, though excellent, assume a familiarity with the original that may not exist in an audience that isn’t already embedded in the speculative fiction fandoms of the twentieth century.

If you’re curious about Lovecraft’s work but put off by his prose, Dark Horse’s release of Gou Tanabe’s manga adaptation is an artistic marvel presented with an excellent translation in a handsomely published single volume.

Tanabe’s adaptation of The Shadow Over Innsmouth brings the story to life with the distinctive visual language of horror manga while maintaining as much accuracy to the original as possible. Just like the story’s protagonist, Tanabe is fascinated by the architecture of the rotting Massachusetts town. The immaculately detailed cityscapes that sprawl across the pages encourage immersion into the horror of social and moral decay. Moreover, whereas Lovecraft only hints at what lies underwater, Tanabe is gleefully explicit in his depictions of throngs of fishpeople so horrific they’d make even Guillermo del Toro uncomfortable.

Tanabe’s The Shadow Over Innsmouth succeeds not only as a faithful retelling but also as a standalone work of gothic horror. By pairing Lovecraft’s oppressive atmosphere with his own meticulous draftsmanship, Tanabe bridges the gap between early twentieth-century weird fiction and contemporary horror manga. The manga adaptation of The Shadow Over Innsmouth preserves the unsettling allure of the original while offering both longtime fans and newcomers an invitation to experience Innsmouth’s decayed splendor in disturbingly compelling detail.

Tower Dungeon

Tsutomu Nihei’s newest manga series, Tower Dungeon, is a grim and grisly dark fantasy about a small team of knights attempting to rescue a princess from an evil wizard at the top of the mysterious Dragon Tower.

This purposefully bog-standard fantasy premise is a bait-and-switch for the actual story, which is as brutal and fiercely imaginative as any of Nihei’s sci-fi dystopias. Instead of being set in the claustrophobic cable-choked interior of a spaceship, the visual space of Tower Dungeon is filled with vaulted ceilings and crumbling stone walls, but Nihei still dazzles the reader with labyrinthine passageways and an awe-inspiring sense of scale. 

Nihei’s signature body horror is on full display in Tower Dungeon, which is populated by the shambling undead, grotesque human graftings, uncanny automatons, and abject abominations. Even when they’re not monstrous, I love the designs of Nihei’s heavily armored knights.

There’s a bit of fanservice, sort of? But not really, and I’m not complaining. If I had to guess, I’d say that Nihei has a crush on Malenia, the deadly woman warrior from Elden Ring, but don’t we all.

The pacing of Tower Dungeon is excellent, and the action sequences are balanced by downtime and light banter that doesn’t try too hard to be funny. The characters offer very little exposition, but the background setting is intriguing. Given my experience with Nihei’s previous manga series, I’m not expecting the story to coalesce into any sort of cohesive plot, but I’m happy to join this strange journey wherever it leads.

I think, honestly, that Tower Dungeon is the Dark Souls manga I always wanted. I hope it gets an English translation soon!

xxxHOLiC: ANOTHERHOLiC

xxxHOLiC

Title: xxxHOLiC: ANOTHERHOLiC: Landolt-Ring Aerosol
Japanese Title: xxxHOLiC アナザーホリック ランドルト環エアロゾル
Author: NISIOISIN (西尾維新)
Translator: Andrew Cunningham
Publication Year: 2008 (America); 2006 (Japan)
Publisher: Del Rey Books
Pages: 203

Given my fondness for the supernatural genre, it is no surprise that I love CLAMP’s manga xxxHOLiC. It took me awhile to pick up the first volume, however, because the concept seemed so cliché and gimmicky: an excitable high school boy who can see spirits works at the shop of a witch who promises to eventually cure him in a story featuring numerous plot crossovers from the simultaneously running epic manga (I believe there are currently twenty-seven volumes of it) Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicles. I was tempted, however, by the Japanese tankobon, which Kodansha has published in beautiful editions, and ended up becoming addicted to the series. Not only is the artwork gorgeous in the style of early twentieth century Japanese lithographs (or Edward Gorey drawings), but the manga is dark and engaging in a deliciously creepy way. Besides, I am in love with Yūko, the hedonistic yet wise ‘Dimensional Witch’ who employs Watanuki, the hapless protagonist.

I had known about NISIOISIN’s novelization of xxxHOLiC for some time, but, unimpressed by his work in the two translated volumes of the short fiction anthology Faust, I never bothered to pick it up (ditto with his novelization of Death Note). Upon accidentally running across the book in a local bookstore, however, I was seduced by the beautiful gold-foil embossed cover and the chapter heading illustrations provided by CLAMP. Perhaps I should give it a chance, just like I did the original manga. Perhaps there is more to NISIOISIN than meets the eye.

Nope. Wrong. In short, this is a waste of a hardcover book. All of the subtle black humor and eeriness of the original manga turns to dust in the hands of the novelist. To back up a bit, it is perhaps a stretch to call ANOTHERHOLiC a novelization. The book is made up of three episodic short stories featuring the characters from xxxHOLiC. The first story, “Outerholic,” is a prose adaptation of an episode in the first volume of the manga and thus retains a modicum of the charm of the original. The second two stories are, as far as I can tell, NISIOISIN’s original creations. And they suffer for it.

Why do I hate NISIOISIN so much? Because I think he hates me, his reader. In all sincerity, what he has written is so full of bitterness that it left me feeling defensive. I’m not the sort of person who feels the need to evaluate whether NISIOISIN was true to the original characters, but I definitely got the feeling that he does not like them. Watanuki comes off as juvenile and whiny, Yūko is petty and self-important, and the writer even extends harsh editorial judgment towards his own original characters. If the writer’s unrelenting antagonistic attitude were not enough to turn me off to this book, I’m sure the sloppy writing would have pushed me over the edge. NISIOISIN’s prose is rife with sentence fragments and ellipses, which might have some sort of dramatic effect if they didn’t appear multiple times on every page. On a broader scale, NISIOISIN relies not on foreshadowing, atmosphere, or suggestion to create a sense of mystery but rather on withholding information from the reader in a taunting way that almost resembles bullying. The last story forgoes any plot at all in favor of a long and tediously sophomoric pseudo-philosophical conversation. Moreover, things like the frequent otaku references to anime like Azumanga Daioh, combined with Yūko’s debate with Watanuki over the meaning of moe, left my head spinning.

According to the author biography in the back of the book, NISIOISIN was born in 1981, which would make him 27 or 28 this year. Although his accomplishments are nothing to sneeze at, ANOTHERHOLiC made me feel like he really needs to get a life and grow up. When I first started reading this book, I was considering buying the translation of the first volume of the author’s Zaregoto: The Kubikiri Cycle, but now I’m not sure I want to read anything written by him ever again. In any case, despite Del Rey’s lovely publishing job, ANOTHERHOLiC is not worth the money, even for fans of CLAMP’s original manga.

I should mention, however, that I don’t think the failure of this book is the fault of the translator, Andrew Cunningham. Cunningham does a wonderful job of rendering NISIOISIN’s numerous idiotic puns into English, and in fact the most enjoyable part of the whole thing were the translator’s footnotes. I can only hope that Cunningham will apply his considerable talent to other authors in the future.