MMF: One Piece – A Love Story in Two Acts

This month, the Manga Moveable Feast (or MMF) focuses on Eiichiro Oda's smash-hit shōnen manga series One Piece, and since I own 13 volumes of the wacky pirate action-adventure, I decided to contribute to the project. However, I've got a rather odd admission to make: I don't read One Piece anymore. In fact, I haven't read even a single new page of the manga since the spring of 2008.

Make no mistake, though, One Piece is actually one of my favorite manga of all time. Nearly three years ago, I simply stopped reading the books, and I have not reneged on my decision since then. In part because of this decision, and in part because of the series' instrumental role in introducing me to manga, One Piece has retained a very unique place in my heart.

Boy Meets Manga

My introduction to One Piece hardly has any of the nostalgic glory of old-time anime fans' origin stories, as it starts sometime in 2003 or so (right in the heart of the mid-2000s manga boom). One of my middle school teachers passed out a Scholastic book catalog, and in it, glaring at me with all his silly intensity, was Yugi Moto from Yu-Gi-Oh! It was an issue of Viz's Shonen Jump, on sale in my school's catalog!

Naturally, after my experience with these cool Japanese cartoons on Cartoon Network's Toonami block (a frequent stepping stone for mid-'90s anime fans), I was excited to get my hands on the mysterious black-and-white comic book versions of the stories. Though I was hardly a fan of Yu-Gi-Oh! as a series, I was instantly hooked by two manga running in the magazine: Naruto and One Piece. They particularly grabbed me because I had never seen anime versions of them, unlike most of the titles in Shonen Jump.

Shortly after my first time reading One Piece (somewhere in the middle of Volume 2's Buggy Arc), I scrambled to pick up as much manga as I could get my hands on. I picked up the first two volumes of the terrible .Hack//Legend of the Twilight and received One Piece Volume 2 for my birthday. And with that, I was officially a fan of rubber-man Monkey D. Luffy and his crew of oddball pirates.

As a child of the Dragon Ball Z generation, I really felt a connection to Oda's Toriyama-inspired characters, stories, artwork, and sense of humor. Everything in One Piece, from the fights to the characters' dreams, is exaggerated, filled with a passion unparalleled by the actions of real people. For a wide-eyed middle school kid, new to the vast world of anime and manga lurking under the Toonami-glazed surface, Oda's powerfully kinetic yet inherently accessible work was just the kind of thing to propel me into full-fledged fandom.

And propel me it did! 2004, the year that marked my post-One Piece anime/manga obsession, also marked the creation of an overly ambitious little anime fan site called Anime Paradise, which would later become the Ani-Gamers you see today.

Boy Leaves Manga

It's pretty clear at this point that One Piece is one of the defining works of my personal manga fandom, but why did I stop reading it after all the passion I had invested into it? It's very simple, actually.

At AnimeNEXT 2008, I pushed my way to the nearest manga vendor and started rifling through the books on the table. As I had done for the past few years, I picked up the latest volume of One Piece (14 in this case) and got ready to buy it. But then it hit me. Looking at the volumes on the table, I took note of the books that I would then have to buy after Volume 14. I thought it over in my head — "One Piece isn't even finished yet in Japan, let alone in the US. Heck, I don't even know when this Baroque Works Arc is going to end. It could be ten more volumes for all I know!"

So, on that day, I made the fateful decision, on behalf of my wallet, to stop buying One Piece. Of course, since I am strongly opposed to manga piracy (har har), reading it online is out of the question, so that means I effectively decided to stop reading the series, period. Since then, Viz Media's American run of One Piece has reached 55 volumes, and it still hasn't ended in Japan. After re-reading the volumes I bought years ago, I really miss the Straw Hat Pirates and all their crazy adventures, but the prospect of restarting my collection is a daunting one.

Indeed, that's the ultimate tragedy of the paying fan of any long-running, ongoing manga series; continued dedication to your favorite story requires an inordinate amount of money and shelf space. Nevertheless, the boundless motivation of Luffy and his comrades serves as a reminder of the importance of doing what you love, regardless of the obstacles in front of you. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll finally follow Oda's wisdom, pick up One Piece Volume 14, and start this old journey up once again.

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• Check out the rest of this month's One Piece-themed Manga Moveable Feast posts!
• Read Matt Blind's explanation of the Manga Moveable Feast

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Manga Moveable Feast: The Immaculate Conception of Yotsuba Koiwai

Having found out that Yotsuba&! was this month’s selection for the Manga Movable Feast a little late in the game, I scrambled to re-read it to celebrate alongside everyone else who was picking up this title — whether revisiting it or starting anew. Devouring a volume or two at a time in-between a rather hellish work schedule, I found myself amazed that I never tired of Yotsuba’s cheery antics despite reading it at a breakneck pace. The work presents you with a rapid-fire series of idealized events and adventures that would normally become tiring in a long reading session of manga. Even Sunshine (Hidamari) Sketch, a favorite of mine, gets tiring after a few chapters of consistent reading.

Yotsuba&! is soothing to read, and as the Reverse Thieves have already pointed out a part of that is due to the pervading nature of nostalgia that suffuses the work. Another part, I feel, is that even despite her many actions and traits, the titular character Yotsuba Kowai is someone who we know next to nothing concrete about. In this way she is a great character to act as an observer for the reader, even when she is the one initiating the actions or making the discoveries.

First of all, we are told very few solid details about about Yotsuba’s origin, and even her father is rather sketchy on the particulars. We know she is an orphan (as outlined in Chapter 6), but when pressed for details her dad tells us that he “met her while overseas, and just kinda started looking after her”. Fuuka fills in for the reader here by admitting that she doesn't really understand, but then something much more interesting happens (a thunderstorm) and the topic is dropped as Yotsuba runs outside to play in the rain. The main theory paraded around about this can be seen in a well distributed piece of fan-art that shows Yotsuba as a ragged orphan in a war-torn country. Whether this is anywhere near the truth, or even if there is a canon answer, is unknown.

We don't even know for sure what Yotsuba’s age is, and she and her adoptive father even have a confused conversation about it when buying a bike. Any mention of a mother goes right over Yotsuba’s head without comment, and the manga then typically shifts to a different and much more fun topic. It is refreshing to have a character without any parental issues present in their personality, and this makes it a lot easier to relate to the nostalgia present in Yotsuba&!. After all, no one wants to be reminded of the bad stuff in a whimsical tale.

Linking in with her origin is Yotsuba’s appearance. Many characters, especially incidental ones, question whether she is a foreigner upon first meeting her, a not unexpected reaction given what little we know of her origins, and also how she acts. There is an additional reason as well — her trademark green four-pigtailed hair. While crazily colored hair is nothing new in anime or manga, the world of Yotsuba&! is grounded in real life, and no one else has their hair in such an outlandish hue or style. Characters even marvel at the bizarre style, further re-enforcing how much the energetic little girl differs from the norm.

Then there are the more mundane, common sense reasons that make Yotsuba stand out. She never tires of looking for adventure each and every day, is enthusiastic about absolutely everything, and is for the most part impeccably behaved apart from the odd, endearing, and quickly forgiven mischief . Yotsuba is the perfect little friend to explore the world with, a fountain of endless curiosity and enthusiasm that makes the world a better place. Even her tantrums are (mostly) well founded, in stark contrast to normal children. (I remember being a selfish little brat myself when I was five-ish.)

Yotsuba is an outsider in her own manga, and it is because of this that the reader never gets sick of her antics. We don't know much about her, and don’t care to find out beyond the basics presented as it may disrupt the warm fuzzy feeling that the manga provides. Hell, what if Kiyohiko Azuma went crazy one day and decided that Yotsuba’s origin is that she is a 1,000-year-old vampire stuck in a tiny body? All the fun would leave the title faster than air out of a popped balloon.

Knowing nothing about Yotsuba lets us get on with the very important business of enjoying her company in her magical, whimsical adventures full of cardboard robots powered by money and flower cupids. It’s much better this way.

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Raised by a Computer: To Terra and Childhood

Note: This article assumes that you have already read To Terra, or at the very least have an understanding of the main characters within the story. If you go to Kate Dacey's compilation page for the To Terra edition of the Manga Moveable Feast you will find a wealth of reviews and other articles about To Terra that you can sink your teeth into.

While re-reading and chewing over To Terra for the now-passed Manga Moveable Feast, I found myself drawn to something I had not considered in such a concentrated manner previously: the upbringing of the characters and how this drove their actions in very different ways.

The majority of the characters are raised under the Superior Domination (SD) system, a computer-moderated society put in place to produce pure, productive members of humanity. With echoes of Brave New World, To Terra quickly introduces its chilling, dystopian social environment where children are planned and conceived by computer before being passed to foster parents and raised without knowing their true origin.

Once the children reach their 14th birthday they are taken unawares for a "Maturity Check", administered by a central computer. The Maturity Check functions as testing and preparation for the child's adult life, with some of the intricacies left unexplained to preserve the mystery of it. Sounds an awful lot like puberty, doesn't it? The main difference is that the Maturity Check doesn't cause hair to suddenly appear in new places, and if anything it makes the characters immaculately drawn hair even more lush. During this enforced coming-of-age the child is told that their childhood was a fabrication produced for the sole purpose of providing them with a healthy emotional background and that their early memories are to be wiped.

This forces an identify crisis onto the children, one which is intended to clear the way for training that will form them into pure subjects willing to work for and perpetuate the Superior Domination Order, with the aim of restoring the now-ravaged planet Earth under the guidance of the Mother Computer.

It is worth noting here that the phrase "Mother Computer" would, at the time that To Terra was written, have sounded utterly outlandish and more than a little disturbing. While computers these days are benign things you have on your desk, in 1977 the microprocessor had only recently been produced, ARPANET was new, and the CRAY-1 supercomputer was the machine to beat. This new technology would surely have had a vague air of magic and threat, and to hand over the most basic of human interactions — the creation and care of children — to such constructs would feel abhorrent.

Firstly, I want to focus on those characters in the story who I believe most closely mirror how "normal" people such as you or I would react in the SD system: Seki and Sam. Both undergo the typical SD upbringing and we meet them early on in the story as classmates of Keith Anyan on a educational station having recently undergone the Maturity Check.

Seki is an intelligent child, though he is earmarked for greatness and is prideful and arrogant as a result. He is emotionally sensitive and coupled with his outspoken distaste of the SD order he is considered a troublemaker and, even worse, a potential telepath. The source of his discontent is very basic and understandable; Seki resents the SD system for stripping him of his childhood, clinging onto the angelic memory of his mother despite knowing it was a fabrication. This grief accelerates Seki's frustration with his situation playing second fiddle to Keith and causes him to act in an increasingly impulsive manner to try and assert himself as an individual and to validate his upbringing. These actions spiral out of control, eventually leading to his death. For being intelligent and sensitive, the SD order drove Seki to self-destruction, wasting a potentially world-altering person due to its deception.

On the other end of the spectrum, Sam is dead average. He squeaks passes in his exams, neither dissents or swears by the regime that produced him, and doesn't sweat the small stuff. His main responsibility is to his friends, and sticks by Keith through thick and thin. An upstanding citizen, he graduates with average grades and takes a job as a space trucker, something that sounds even more boring than normal truck driving. Through this job he comes to meet the Mu and in particular the main protagonist Jomy, who he was childhood friends with. Faced with a filthy telepath, Sam acts upon the information that the computer education has drilled into him and freaks the hell out, attacking Jomy in a fit of primal fear. Jomy is horrified how his old friend has been warped and over-reacts, causing a massive explosion and injuring Sam.

We are later re-introduced to Sam and find out that this encounter has left him crippled at a mental age of 14. All the ingrained fear is gone, replaced by a much more carefree outlook. While this may be a bit of a stretch, I believe that this shows that the overbearing influence of the Maturity Check, illustrating that the computer education had left Sam without the mental tools to cope with adult life. The shock encounter caused him to revert to a simpler time without the choking influence that had warped him into a form so horrifying to Jomy.

Jomy, the main protagonist of the story, also goes through the normal SD upbringing experienced by Sam and Seki, and like them he is abducted at 14 to undergo the Maturity Check. For him, however, things change when he is rescued by the leader of the Mu and made their new leader. Faced with so much responsibility and hostility from both the SD order and from his own people, it would make sense for Jomy to seek a return to the halcyon days of his youth, even while knowing that it was a fabrication. For the majority of the story he tries to bring happiness to the Mu by creating a stable home for them, free from the overbearing computerized system that hunts them.

Following a major tragedy Jomy finally heeds his predecessors’ imperative to bring the Mu to their homeland of Terra and to destroy the computer system that is warping humanity.

The first step on this journey is for Jomy to put his own past to rest by attacking his old childhood world and destroying the computer that oversees the Maturity Checks there. It it only with the destruction of that machine that Jomy matures both as a person and a leader, shouldering his burdens and doing what must be done to save. Not just his own people from the oppressive Mother Computer, but humanity as a whole as well.

One of those burdens is Tony, who is the product of the first natural birth among the Mu, and an exceptionally powerful telepath. Brought up with utmost love and care by his mother Carina, he is overcome with grief when she dies. The resulting shock causes him to overreact and accelerate his physical growth in order to be of greater use to Jomy, the young leader who encouraged his birth and whom he now regards as his family. This change makes him as an abrasive, irritable person who is still very much a child emotionally, traits exaggerated by being the cornerstone of the Mu military due to his immense psychic power. This combination of personality and ability causes Tony and the few others like him in the Mu population to be treated as outcasts. They eventually leave the Mu to begin a dreamlike existence among the stars, having grown up too fast without the grounding to cope with the harsh reality they live in.

Finally, there is Keith Anyan, who is perhaps the most interesting of all of the characters in To Terra. Keith is the result of a more advanced version of the SD program — he is engineered to have a theoretically perfect genome and grown in a tank until 16 under the direct care and attention of the educational computer. He cannot recall his childhood, something which sets him apart from his school friends, and when he discovers the truth there is an initial shock at the confirmation but no great change or revelation takes place. This is, in my mind, because there is no subterfuge involved. Instead of having an illusionary childhood life stripped from him, Keith is left to ponder his existence as someone created for the express purpose of leading the SD order. While he does follow orders of the computer, Keith develops throughout adulthood, free of any anxiety or doubts lingering in his mind about his origins. In the end, it could be argued that Keith has the fewest issues with his childhood, primarily because he did not have one in the strict sense, and he had no other alternative but to adjust to his circumstances. He spends a large amount of time reflecting on the people he has met throughout his life, allowing these events to affect him rather than being a prisoner to his childhood and the computer overlords that he starts to question as time carries on.

With all this out of the way, what was Keiko Takamiya trying to say? I submit that the message is that there should be no lies in childhood, as this only causes mal-adjustment and traps people in a cycle of trying to reconcile reality with what they experienced and viewed as fact, thus stunting their development. In this story the computers are one thing used to provide and enforce this lie, but they could be swapped out for any real-life examples that you care to produce, such as an overbearing Nationalistic agenda. Even now, many years after publication, this message feels very relevant and lacking in due consideration, making the series all the more important to read and reflect on.

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