Anata no Scandaru (あなたとスキャンダル) by Shiina Ayumi, from 1994-5, is not a happy Yuri manga.

Tomoka, a rising star who plays piano, has spent every waking second of her 15 years of life looking for her Prince. One day, while being molested by a pervert on the train, her ideal Prince rescues her! Not surprisingly, she falls head over heels for him, despite the fact that she has no idea whatsoever what his name is, where he lives, etc….

A chance meeting with an old acquaintance from childhood brings her into proximity with her Prince – Yuuki Serika, who turns out to be the popular lead singer for a up-and-coming band. To Tomokoa’s shock, she’s asked to join the band as keyboardist. Tomoka agrees, since this gives her the chance to be close to Yuuki. Unfortunately for her, Yuuki expresses a clear dislike for girls.

As Tomoka presses her suit she learns why Yuuki feels this way – because Yuuki is actually a woman! Because of her boyish figure and deep voice, she can pass as a man, (and does, to escape an arranged marriage.) After Tomoka gets over the shock of the revelation, she decides that she doesn’t care and that she’s going to pursue Serika anyway.

Unfortunately for our readers, the mangaka didn’t have the courage of her convictions. In the final volume of 5, Serika sits down with Tomoka for a serious talk. Serika insists that Tomoka doesn’t *really* love her at all…she obviously really loves the old childhood friend she’s barely spoken to during the entire series. It’s an incredibly unrealistic and sudden ending, and even at the time, readers were annoyed slightly by it.

Nonetheless, as a comedy of errors with a gender-bendy twist, it was cute, fluffy fun. No awards will be won here with either the art of the story, but like so many gender-bending stories, it has some nice moments.

Miserable Classics of Shoujoai
Part 2

Futte Mo Harrete Mo (Rain or Shine) – Fujimura Mari, 1993

Yet another Margaret “Yuri” manga. I had a copy of this series, but was so annoyed at the ending that I sold it. Now I don’t remember the protagonist’s names. I guess I’ll just have to get another copy of it, for the ol’ collection. One day.

This 5-volume series starts off *so* hot, that it’s a wonder the pages don’t curl from the heat. Two girls, inexplicably attracted to one another, can’t stop themselves from wanting to be in each other’s presence. There is a hair-brushing scene in the first few pages which had me panting. Unfortunately, from that point on, the story goes downhill. Terrified of their reactions to the other, both girls desperately seek to distance themselves from each other, each ultimately ending up with a boyfriend, and vowing to be good friends. What a waste.

It isn’t a happy story, but to be fair, the concept of a “happy ending” at *all* in Japanese literature of any kind is a very, very modern concept. It’s not just Yaoi and Yuri that end with melancholy longing and unfulfilled sexual tension – in fact, it’s perhaps the single strongest theme, historically, in Japanese writing.

When considered in that context, FmHm is much less of a disappointing read. It is about ephemeral youth and overwhelming feelings. If Romeo and Juliet had been a Japanese narrative, the protagonists, instead of running off together (happy ending) or killing themselves (tragic ending), would have parted with tears and gone back to their families, then married the partners their parents chose for them (Japanese ending.) 

Miserable Classics of Yuri
Prologue and Part 1

Way back in the early 1970s, when Yamagishi Ryouko and Ikeda Riyoko were drawing up the first Yuri manga, the model for same-sex relationships was not a happy one. Like early Yaoi, early Yuri assumed an unhappy, unfulfilled or tragic ending for all lesbian relationships. (The same thing was happening here in western literature as well, so clearly it was an artistic edict that went well beyond individual culture.) The bottom line was – there was no happy Yuri. And really, only a very few mangaka had the guts to depict any kind of lesbian character or relationship at all, so lesbians were happy enough to get what they could find. This situation lasted well into the 1990s, and frankly, IMHO, didn’t really even *begin* to change until Sailor Moon broke the trend. Mostly what you had was a choice of one or more of the following: suicide; tearful parting and memories of something that might have been; or marriage to some guy, because that’s what you do.

Nowadays, we look back on these stories with disappointment and, in some cases, distaste, but remember, these were the first tentative steps in a process that is only *now* breaking free of its historical fetters. (And I’m not talking Yuri Shimai here – the real progress I’ve seen in Yuri comes from lesbian artists like Takashima Rica and Yamaji Ebine.)

This week, I’m going to review a few of the decade-old Yuri manga that you may not have heard of. Despite their unsatisfying endings, these have some very good qualities.I’m not going to bother rating any of these, though. ^_^

Jukkai Me no Jukkai – Akisato Wakuni, 1992

Jukkai Me no Jukkai is a short story that is part of a single-volume manga collection called Odamari!.

Jukkai is a strangely uncomfortable story of a girl, Sayako, who falls in love with her brother’s fiance’. Sayako meets her at school and, through an incredibly unrealistic mishap during a school play, their lips touch. From this point on, Sayako can’t get this mysterious girl out of her mind. When her brother announces that he’s getting married to one of her schoolmates, Sayako has no idea that he means the same girl’s she’s already kissed. Their situation is made more complex by the fact that Sayako is older than her brother’s bride-to-be…something that bothers her quite a bit. When she’s introduced to Rio, Sayako is shocked and appalled at herself, her brother, and at the girl, Rio.

Rio is only marrying Sayako’s brother to escape a life of loneliness…she’s unwanted by family, and at 16 has already has several affairs with older men. She doesn’t really love Sayako’s brother, but she does think he’s nice – and he’s a great way to escape from her unhappy life. As it progresses, their relationship seems dysfunctional, and Rio comes off as manipulative, but neither Rio nor Sayako seem to be fighting the attraction between them too hard. The brother remains clueless throughout.

Ultimately, Rio marries Sayako’s brother, but she and Sayako become lovers, carrying on when the brother isn’t home. It’s not a “happy” ending, but at least it isn’t suicide.