I meant to write more of a review of this when I finished it but just haven't gotten around to it. In lieu of that longer "real" review I'll just jot down that I like the way this comic explores how humans have all kinds of strange interests and things they would like to pursue in life that are in no way compatible with profitability, and how being forced to live under capitalism gives those people (and the communities that form around interests of a similar nature) no outlet or opportunity to do so. ( )

Velleità, speranza, delusione, pigrizia, disperazione: queste alcune delle sensazioni e situazioni che Tsuge sa raccontare perfettamente per immagini, spesso - pare - facendo riferimento alla propria vita. Divise in più capitoli come spesso accade per i manga il libro tratteggia un protagonista tanto inetto quanto memorabile, in cui può forse riconoscersi chiunque abbia cullato qualche desiderio o aspirazione senza la necessaria capacità e convinzione. Molto bello l'uso del disegno, "pulito" o "sporco" a seconda della finalità, così come alcune scelte "psicologiche" (per esempio la moglie sempre vista di spalle nel primo racconto). ( )

How do you study the nothingness of one's self? How do you disappear completely? To be the man without talent would leave you rejected by society. Societal rejection would be like disappearing into nothing, no? Even in this state we could run away from our lives, vanish completely like the transient, ephemeral clouds of yesterday.

Without guidance, we are wanderers, and slowly unloved and rejected as our lives carry no purpose. Even as we work, if all efforts only lead to disappointment, of failed promises, we still carry that societal rejection. In a sense, however, Tsuge manages to achieve such rejection out of naivete. He was destined to be a failure, yet fails to notice it. And so, he endures as all other nothings do, filling the populace, living without expectations, and forgotten, both to history and everyone he knows; all he has left are his nobody friends and nobody family.

Our lives are ultimately nothing, and as we search for our home, one day we will learn that the only true home that may be found in the ultimate nothingness.

"From somewhere
I hear a crane's cry - but where?
Such is the mist"

e: I don't think this is much of a bad thing. Being alone does not make you lonely. If you were rejected by society, made to disappear into nothing, then it's your responsibility to have your presence known. Hell, do you know how nice it is to be useless every once in a while? To just lay down and not have any expectations put on you? I don't suggest it as a way of living, of course, but we need to disappear every once in a while and enjoy that little death nothingness can gift us.

Furthermore, the act of disappearing suggests that there was a point in which their presence WAS known. Even the forgotten poet had a book published, which was still being read after his death; even Tsuge's friends had semi-working businesses before they fell out of favor; even Tsuge himself has made comics that are still revered to this day, have sold repaired cameras to those in need, had given piggy-back rides to those who wanted to ford over the river, before he tanked in the rock-selling business. They existed!!!! They existed, they did things for people, and their impact is still felt, even if as subtlety and unnoticeable as possible.

I understand the fear of disappearing is very tangible. Everyone wishes that their lives contained meaning, to express it in their labor, and to communicate with others to both feed off of their insight and seek consolidation, recognition of their efforts. But how, in any realistic sense, could someone disappear? I find it unlikely, or captured in systematic oppression, where entire political structures build themselves to oppose a certain person or group, but that's not what Tsuge was expressing. He was looking for the disappearance of a individual through his own efforts, and that I cannot see. ( )

Fictionalized autobiographical stories revolving around pathetic middle-aged men and the wives who hate them for being such losers. Apparently this sort of navel gazing is its own genre in Japan -- called I-novel or shishosetsu -- and this is the seminal work of one of its most lauded creators.

It might appeal to fans of Chris Ware or Robert Crumb, I suppose, but not to me. ( )

Je suis une grande fan de gekiga et j'attendais beaucoup de ce livre de Tsuge. Malheureusement, il m'a quelque peu ennuyé. Niveau déroulement, tout va bien mais le texte est vraiment étrange... je crois que c'est dû à la traduction de Frédérick Boilet qui a trop voulu adapter plutôt que de traduire réellement... Dommage! ( )