MadInkBeard

Yoshinaga, Fumi. Ooku: The Inner Chambers v.1. Viz, 2009. ISBN: 9781421527475.

I wasn’t convinced I’d keep reading this series after my first reading of volume 1. The concept of the series seems right out of a sociopolitical sci-fi novel like something Joanna Russ would write: a plague kills off only men, leaving Japan with a four to one female/male ratio. Women take over as heads of households and heads of state. The series takes places during the Edo period, which covers the 17th to the middle/late 19th century (the single datable reference is the reign of third Tokugawa shogun, which Wikipedia lists as 1623 (sadly, the endnotes do not offer enough in the way of historical info)). The premise is rife for investigations of gender roles, and the concept intrigues me.

However, on my first reading, I felt that there was something lacking. The major part of the volume (three of the four chapters) follows the story of a young man who becomes part of the Shogun’s harem of men (they live in the Ooku inner chambers, hence the title). The focus is very much on the men and their political maneuvering. This story reads like a kind of promo for the series as a whole, a mostly self-contained story that perhaps ran in a manga magazine to see how the series would be received. Oddly, there is a lack of women in the story, with the exception of brief views of the new shogun who begins her reign halfway through, and we don’t get a real feel for any of the characters. I wonder how this premise intersects with Yoshinaga being primarily a creator of yaoi and shonen-ai manga. That might explain her comfort dealing more with the men in the inner chambers than the women outside of it.

In his brief review of the volume, Chris Mautner noted:

She seems more interested in conveying the various back room politics and romances that take place in the inner chambers than giving thought as to what such a huge change in the population would do to a culture. Would the fashion still be identical to what it was in the real world, with men shaving their heads and women wearing long gowns? Wouldn’t that change somewhat drastically? Would a female shogun really keep a male harem and if so, would it be so identical in structure to what the real Edo shoguns had? This may sound like nit-picking, but makes the story seem more than a bit facile, as though she just swapped everyone’s sex and that alone would be interesting enough. It may well be that I’m not giving Yoshinaga enough credit and that she’s actually considered these issues and will explore them in more depth in future volumes. But so far, I’m not encouraged.

I completely agreed with Chris when I read his review shortly after my first reading of this volume. It all seemed too easy and naive, but on my second reading, I started seeing a little more of what might be going on here. In the last chapter of this volume–after the story of the young man that takes up the majority of the volume is dealt with–the focus turns to the shogun, who becomes more rounded and interesting as a character. She is a non-conformist and of an inquisitive mind, and, as such, she begins to question these too easy issues where it seems like men and women have just swapped places. Why do women take men’s names when they rise to head of household level (thus making all historical records look like men have always been in charge)? Why does the shogun dress like a man when meeting foreign ambassadors, not allowed to see (they meet behind screens) or talk to them? She investigates these issues by turning to the historical record kept by one of the secretaries in the inner chamber. End of volume.

Having now read a review of the second volume, I know that it turns to the past (perhaps framed in the shogun’s reading?). I get the feeling that the questions above are answered by some still controlling hand of men in the protocol of the land. As if they tried to retain some patriarchal control. This is hinted at by the actions of the chief officer in the inner chamber (who seems very much to be the “man in control” type) and the old scribe who holds the historical record. It is also not clear that people still remember a time when men were in control of the society, the story does not (as far as I can tell) hint at this knowledge. It’s a bit confusing, because the volume starts with a short story taking place when the plague that killed off the men started. Then time passes quickly through some narrative text, and we are into the main story. For the reader it feels very close together, but for the society in the story almost a century has passed. If the women remembered the time when men were in control, why would they so willingly just do the same thing the men always did? Yoshinaga needs to address these issues (at least a bit) sooner rather than later, or the series will lose credibilty. I’m intrigued enough now, to want to continue reading, as I feel Yoshinaga drops enough clues to a higher level of depth than I first believed.

While Yoshinaga’s concept is quite fascinating, the art is only average. It has a simultaneously smooth and angular quality that I do not find particularly pleasing, and the layouts/composition/pacing are not noteworthy. One annoyance that many reviewers have noted is the translator’s use of weirdly archaic (pseudo-archaic?) English: “Tis”, “Verily”, “Foresooth”, etc. I managed to ignore it as much as possible, but I don’t think it adds to the reading of the book.

A nice job by Viz’s production people on the design of the volume, from the French flap covers to the translucent first page that leads onto a colored title page on thicker, textured paper, there was clearly much attention paid to presentation of the story. Moreso than most manga being published, this looks like a something coming out of an art book publisher.

[This is part 6 of a 30 part series where I am writing daily reviews for the month of December.]