Late in Dead Dead Demons’ first volume, its boisterous heroine Ontan stares out over the city of Tokyo, a vast alien mothership hanging silently above. In spite of the imminent threat, the city is quiet. After months of frantic news reports, the mothership has become just another feature of the skyline, an accepted feature of the modern age. Ontan has news for her complacent city. “Everyone seems to have forgotten what happened that day, and are living their peaceful lives as if it’s a given. But I have something I’d like to tell them: there’s no such thing as an endless summer break!”
Tag Archives: Inio Asano
Dead Dead Demon’s DeDeDeDe Destruction, Volume 1 – Review
Today I reviewed the first volume of Inio Asano’s latest, which is so far looking to be another genuine masterpiece. Not only is Dead Dead Demon’s an incredibly well-observed and poignant character drama, it also feels like one of the most searingly accurate articulations of growing up in the current era that I’ve seen. Kadode and Ontan’s combination of societal fatalism and fierce personal loyalty is an attitude I’ve seen again and again among my peers, and certainly sympathize with. This book really spoke to me, and I hope I captured that in my review.
Dead Dead Demon’s DeDeDeDe Destruction
A Girl on the Shore – Part Two
“It’s so good to learn that from right here, the view goes on forever.”
– The Mountain Goats
A Girl on the Shore’s second half opens with more of its slow, wide-open panels, images of Sato and Isobe’s empty town shot from the distance it’s experienced. Sato’s tedium comes across in long sequences of repeated shots, as she slumps at her desk or stares out the window. Isobe’s self-hatred clutters pannels together, as the teacher reaches out to him and he slaps her hand away. The contrast of intimate cuts and wide-open spaces suits these characters; Sato sees herself as a willowy non-presence, whereas Isobe is claustrophobic, labeling himself unlovable and struggling to breathe.
A Girl on the Shore – Part One
“We used to wait / We used waste hours just walkin’ around / We used to wait / All those wasted lives in the wilderness downtown.”
Inio Asano certainly has a way with words. Or it might be better to say he has no way with them. His stories seem translucent, any wisp of authorial voice appearing only in the fringes of unvarnished naturalism. He gives his characters’ interiority the drama they believe it deserves, but any magic in his stories is the magic of the world as it is. Characters interrupt each other and start again, tossing out simple observations and losing their trains of thought. You can feel the wind blowing between the staggered refrains of his mixed-up kids.