A petty rant involving Black Jack

As the English market for seinen series continues to grow, so do the expected names move out of their scanlation-favored beginnings into the lexicon for would-be manga critics. Naoki Urasawa is one such manga-ka, a passionate following amassing itself even further now that he has two more of his famous series being released side-by-side. This is important to note in this coverage of Black Jack because while Urasawa utterly adores and worships Osamu Tezuka, the former's approach is so radically different that it comes as little surprise for why the criticisms come more quickly for the late god of manga by specific reviewers.

As I read Pluto alongside Black Jack, what is the most obvious aesthetic difference is the handling of melodrama. Tezuka can be targeted for his ham-fisted ways, where Serious Messages are delivered in a tone not far removed from the late Will Eisner: distanced, alienated male characters crying out, defiant at the people, ideology, system and even divinity that steal away fairness and justice in this world. But, like Eisner, there's little doubt that Tezuka completely means every single speech bubble, constantly seeking answers for the betterment of humankind. Self-awareness isn't out of the question, either, considering the amount of fourth-wall-breaking scenes and general absurdities Tezuka throws at the reader.

Urasawa also never shies away from prodding sentimentality into the picture, but his motivations are arguably suspect -- particularly considering these almost always involve elongated sub-plots consisting of characters offering feel-good platitudes, while repetitive panels emphasize just how miserable they all really are. When the story of North No. 2 reaches its "emotional climax," finally succeeding at aiding the blind, bitter old man to open his heart upon the songs and revelations of his homeland, it stumbles past a line of acceptability into self-parody for cheap manipulation of the audience. When, in volume five of Black Jack, Tezuka focuses on Black Jack desperately fighting with Dr. Kiriko attempting to kill his apparently tragically-fated father, or his indifference upon a former "wolf girl" dancing into dangerous territory, it reveals more questions about the characters and Tezuka's own moral questions.

Undoubtedly there are those who won't find themselves attached to the admittedly inconsistent storytelling found in Black Jack. Instead they are more comfortable with Urasawa's thriller, questions always dancing around the answers until the narrative compulsion nearly grinds to a halt. Personally, I'm coming back and away with higher and more fulfilled expectations with Tezuka's insanity-filled honesty.

Black Jack, Volume 04

I don't know if I'm acclimating myself to Tezuka's insanity, or whether this volume is simply less convoluted than the one prior.  Either way, this is a more accessible outing, featuring a growing pet theme of skin transplants along with the usual amputations, bombings, world leaders and intelligent animals doing miraculous things that are not understood by humans until the climax of the story.

While there's far too many highlights to speak of, one particular chapter features a fart joke in one of the most unsuspecting (though somewhat logical) situations possible.  That Tezuka makes this work is even more astonishing.

Black Jack, Volume 03

The story about the Dingoes lives up to its acclaim.

The morality of the book can be a bit bewildering at times, though, such as the ending for the first Kiriko story. Then there's the occasional story that just makes me think that Tezuka would have done better just leaving the series as published, as what I would guess to be the second Pinoko-centric story makes its appearance in the second-half of this volume.