Welcome to another exciting Guest Review on Wednesday on Okazu! Today we welcome a new reviewer, Matt Rolf with a look at an intense new series. Let’s give him a warm Okazu welcome and don’t forget to leave a kind word on the comments for him! Matt, the floor is yours….
Creating art that deals with abusive relationships in queer contexts is challenging. The cultural canon contains a long list of works where queers get what they deserve for being gay. Likewise, queer relationships often exist in spaces between gay and straight, without clear distinctions or categories that allow the participants an easy way to figure things out. Run Away With Me Girl, Volume 1, by Battan, begins by tackling both these fraught topics, and the results are rocky. Content Warning: Domestic Violence.
Midori and Makimura formed a close romantic relationship in high school. They split up at graduation because Midori thought they had outgrown their girlish relationship. Ten years on, Maki is single and still wants to be with Midori, while Midori is engaged to a man. When the two women meet by chance before Midori’s wedding, they rekindle their friendship. The first volume of Run Away With Me Girl contains the first six of sixteen episodes in Maki and Midori’s story.
Both of Midori’s relationships, the one with her fiancé Tonoike, and the one with Maki, are not what one would call healthy. Midori herself has an outlook of self-doubt, and struggles to reconcile her identity and desires with society’s expectations. Some panels explore Tonoike and Maki’s individual backgrounds and experiences, but Midori’s struggle is at the core of the story. The themes of the book become increasingly dark as the novel goes on, culminating in an indefensible act.
The character artwork is detailed and attractive, appropriately contrasted with mostly sparse backgrounds. The economy of the artwork is not intrusive, and several panels are fully rendered in a beautiful way. Battan has done very well with the most important parts of the visuals, and the result is pleasing to look at.
This book is definitely yuri, but the relationships depicted are difficult and may not be enjoyable for the reader to return to later. Maki is clear-eyed in her love for Midori, and that’s where the clarity ends. Fan service is light: there are a few panels of kissing and holding hands, with some panels of Midori naked. The drawings of Midori are more about vulnerability than titillation.
The focus of the book is on the fairly realistic portrayal of an imperfect set of adults navigating unhealthy relationships that may or may not be worth the effort. Readers who can relate to these experiences may find it difficult to finish the book. The story is well told and gives the reader food for thought after they put down the book. I suspect these characters have a lot more to go through before they find their resolution.
Final Verdict: A book you keep on your shelf because it’s good, but don’t read much because it’s hard. This series is published by Kodansha Comics, with translation by Kevin Steinbach and lettering by Jennifer Skarupa,
Ratings
Art – 7
Story 8 – +3 for undertaking a challenging narrative, +2 for mostly succeeding, -2 for there’s a reason the narrative is challenging.
Characters – 5 Given the meat of the story, the characters are a little underdeveloped.
Service – 3
Yuri – 8
Overall – 8
Erica here: Thanks Matt, I appreciate you taking a look at this series for us!
I’d seen a little publicity on this series, but this review has definitely got me more intrigued than I was before. The dark content is obviously fraught, but I think these sorts of queer stories have a right to be told alongside more comforting or triumphant narratives, and you’ve sold me on the handling of that content. I think I’ll be picking this one up. Thanks for the review!