Shaman Warrior, vols. 1-5 (Park Joong-Ki)

[chomiji]

Shaman warriors have the ability to transform their bodies in various ways, making them formidable war machines. As this series opens, a legendary shaman, Yarong, meets his death under circumstances that seem highly suspicious to his servant, the massive fighter Batu. Batu swears to defend his master's child, Yaki, but he soon finds this far more difficult than he expected: shaman warriors are being hunted down and killed, with the circumstances of Yarong's death being twisted to provide an excuse. Batu at last decides he must take desperate measures to ensure that little Yaki survives and becomes able to defend herself.

Thus far, this is playing out like an almost gender-blind shounen/seinen adventure. There are more male characters than female characters (especially in the first volume), but the female characters we've encountered thus far are fighting, doing magic, and adventuring along with the men. These female characters are also generally drawn with reasonable bustlines and amazingly modest clothing. The story includes betrayal, loyalty beyond the grave, a variety of non-romantic attachments (siblings, master-servant, parent-child, team mates, etc.), and complex politics. The artwork is gorgeous, illustration rather than cartoon, along the lines of Inoue's work on Vagabond and Samura's work on Blade of the Immortal (and when we do encounter grotesques, they're all the more unnerving because they're so well-drawn).

Oh, and telophase? Batu the Destroyer traveling with little Yaki is just your kind of thing!

Shaman Warrior, vols. 1-5 (review)

(FYI - that's teenaged Yaki in the icon.)

OK ... wild theories time. The Mr. and I don't think Yarong was Yaki's father. We think Yarong was Yaki's mother.

This may sound like total crack - after all, we have a number of pictures of bare-chested Yarong in vol. 1, and that's a totally masculine-looking torso, very much in the realistic mode: not tapered and bishie-ish, but compactly muscled and slightly stocky. But think about how Yarong has a tiny baby, and Batu keeps urging him to take it easy because "you can't fight anymore. Your body can't take it" and the General who sends Yarong off on his fatal mission apologizes that he had to "inform you of this while your body is still changing," and then later this same General thinks of Yarong with this statement:"I have plucked the most beautiful flower in all Kugai ... ."

I guess only time will tell.

Park gets a little weird with names: there is a character called Genji (female, and supposedly Batu's sister) and another called Aragorn (the tattooed warlord of a clan that's being forced out by the General). Genji is a lot of fun - frankly outspoken, a skilled fighter, and a master of disguise. Aragorn's a pretty good character too, but I keep twitching every time I read that name ... .

Yaki's experiences in the Butcher Camps are all too realistic, except in one area, and I think Park is actually to be commended for not going for the sexual angle in most of what happens to her. I also like how Yatilla gives her a reason to go on and be strong. He's a very promising character, and I hope we'll see more of him.

My only regret thus far is that Yarong was killed off so soon. He was just my sort of character.

Comments

[chomiji]

Yeah, but if she was 15, and he was 35, he was old enough to be her father ... nevermind that I'd think of him (him-back-then) as a toothsome young thing now! And it's scary to think of someone that much older (and by extension, more powerful) looking at you with who-knows-what expectations!

I didn't have serious romantic thoughts even about boys my own age until two years later than that, although I was already toying with the idea through slashy stuff (one of my favorite books at that age was Mary Renault's The Persian Boy).

I'm sure she was attracted - it was her own reactions that were frightening her, as much as anything. People don't grow up all across the board at once - someone could be quite mature about doing chores and homework, and totally naive about romance/sex.

[chomiji]

Well, The Persian Boy is special even among Renault's Greek historical fiction books because of its focus and first-person narration. A couple of reviewers have called it a really effective portrait of a gay teenager in love. And because Bagoas is not an ambitious person himself - his past life his entirely closed to him, and so he only lives for Alexander - much more time is spent on the relationship stuff than is the case in many of her books. Of course, it was written as a mainstream book in the 1960s, so it's pretty vanilla in anything regarding physical descriptions of romantic encounters ... as my sister once complained, "I wish she'd say a little more about what exactly they're doing with each other!"

[chomiji]

Yes, but when you're a teenaged girl who's just discovered that this sort of relationship is possible at all, you don't have much of a clue as to what to put in with your imagination!

[chomiji]

Heh ... my first ship was Mr. Spock/Ens. Chekov from the original Star Trek ... and it was almost all hurt/comfort and I had no idea that there was a name for any aspect of it or even the complete implications of what I was imagining ... .

[chomiji]

Hee ... see, I identified with Chekov! Not that I pretended I was him or anything like that, but he was a junior crew member, and I could see myself in that role. And slashing him with Spock was a way of toying with that dark, sinister Saturnine male being ... a fascination that extended to Tanith Lee's exorcist Parl Dro (Kill the Dead - an excellent short novel) and Freddie Mercury of Queen! ( ... who was himself the basis for one of the imaginary characters who starred in my late-adolescent theater-of-the-mind fantasy psychodramas.)

[chomiji]

Yeah, they had plenty of dumb bunnies on that show, but they were mostly extras or guest stars, thank goodness!

Yes, she was wearing amazing amuonts of eye makeup!