INDEX
Four cartoons–“I should be able to increase the amount of time I have left to live or the amount of time I have left to think about how wonderful it was.”
-Followed by Tajima Rijima’s “Water Flows Toward the Sea”.
Sawada: This was another shocker. The illustrations are pop, or soft, with a touch that doesn’t have a lot of writing, but throughout the entire book, Mr. Tajima inserts words that should be heavy all the way through without being heavy. It’s amazing how a commonplace phrase like “you will be happy” when he picks up an abandoned cat can be so convincing later on. In the scene when they are under the umbrella, he says, “If I hadn’t been there, his shoulder wouldn’t have gotten wet. The book is complete in three volumes, so I hope you enjoy it.
It’s easy to get into (laughs). Next is “My Broken Mariko” by Waka Hirako.
Sawada: The story begins when her best friend commits suicide, and although it is a story of loss, it is not about “What could I have done for her? But it’s not about “What could I have done? Why did he die?” But it is not, “If I die, the other person will be left behind. I focused on the fact that I was the one who didn’t have to imagine that.
Mariko, the girl who chooses suicide, has been broken for a long time. She is often referred to as a “bucket with a hole in it,” and no matter how much water is poured into the bucket, it always comes out the bottom, and she knows that it is impossible to save that person. But I still get pulled in by the thought that I am not the only one, that I am the only one who can fix the hole. If I give that up, I’m going to have a nasty gut feeling in the future. I’m not going to be able to save these people.
I don’t think I can fill that hole, but I can at least slow the flow of water. I’m sure I can increase the amount of time they have left to live, or the amount of time they have left to think that they were wonderful. This work definitely touches on those points, and I hope I can be the same.
-Harada-san’s “One Room Angel”.
Sawada: This was given to me by a friend. There is a boy named “Tenshi-kun,” and he is affected by human emotions. If the person near him is sad, his wings fall off, and vice versa. If the person near him is warm, his wings recover rapidly. There are many gimmicks like that, but the point is that you are telling a story that touches the heart all the time.
The other main character is kind but tends to be a bit shunned by those around him because of his appearance, and as it turns out, they were both there to save each other. So the manga as a whole is trying to convey, “People are not as bad as you think. You give and they give back. The warmth is balanced, and the gentler you are, the more you respond appropriately as a human being, the closer you get to good-bye, and I thought, “This has always been about the heart.
-Aki Horoyama’s “Marble Bitter Chocolate.
Sawada: This is a story about consumption. The main character is a novelist woman, and she attacks a girl who is doing daddy’s business and does something like a reportage writer, even though she doesn’t mean to, but she is attracted to this girl who is doing daddy’s business. Not romantically, but as a human being. It started when I realized that the target of my foolishness and thought, “I have no choice but to make money with these guys,” was not only beyond my imagination, but could be someone who could reach out to me. But what this person is doing is consumption, and I get tired of writing things like, “This is what a daddy’s girl was like. In the end, I tell him that I want to leave for the sake of the girl, but the publisher says something like, “You can’t run away from this anymore. What you did was consuming and horrific long ago, and suddenly “I’m no longer complicit” is not acceptable. I think that is also a terribly good argument.
I too have consumed someone else with my music, and I am proud to call it an attack. But it says here that it is not enough to be proud of it, all you can do is accept the fact, and the words that follow mean nothing. I was quite taken by this.
