Comic Book Resources

Robot reviews: Children of the Sea Vol. 1

Children of the Sea Vol. 1
by Daisuke Igarashi
Viz, $14.99.

Despite the “Older Teen” rating emblazoned on the back cover, Children of the Sea — at least the first volume anyway — struck me as being more like a traditional children’s (or young reader’s if you prefer) book. To wit: a plucky young girl via a chance encounters meets remarkable characters and is introduced to a fantastic world where danger and dark mysteries await.

The all-ages vibe I was getting off of the book was confirmed when my seven-year-old daughter snatched it out my hands (after asking politely of course), devoured it in about an hour and then immediately started drawing her own story about magic people that lived under the waves. None of this is meant as a criticism. My point is simply that manga-ka Daisuke Igarashi is dealing in some very recognizable archetypes here, of the sort that Hayao Miyazaki frequently dabbles in, for instance, and that of all the books in Viz’s Signature line so far, this seems to have the broadest appeal, at least in terms of age.

But let’s soldier on to the plot: A young girl named Ruka, having gotten kicked off her handball team for unsportsmanlike behavior (she’s a bit of a roughneck), ends up spending her summer days hanging out at the aquarium where her dad works. While there she meets two strange boys, Umi and Sora, who claim to have been raised by dugongs (a cousin to the manatee). Indeed they seem to feel more at home in the ocean than on land. Like Aquaman, they frequently need to keep their skin moist and avoid the direct sun. And while they don’t seem to be able to communicate directly with  the sea’s deziens, they seem more at ease with them than most people.

More mysteries abound. The papers are filled with stories about speckled fish disappearing from the oceans and aquariums across the globe. Rarely-seen deep-water fish are suddenly appearing washed up on shores. Could these mysterious events be somehow tied to Umi and Sora? Or an odd event she witnessed when she was very young? And what about the mysterious light that she sees at times emanating from Sora, Umi and other fish at times? Are her new friends in danger?

So yes, on the face of it, this sounds more than a bit like your traditional manga adventure story, albeit one with large dollops of  wonder and awe at the glories of nature. But Children of the Sea isn’t terribly concerned with plot. It’s much more interested in creating and enhancing mood and atmosphere, and exploring the character dynamics between Ruka, her friends and her family.

Igarashi takes his time here, deliberately maintaining a slow, steady pace to allow for large reaction shots, and lots and lots of stunning vistas of schools of fish, cityscapes, seaside towns and, of course, the ocean. It’s all slow, eerie build-up here, and is able to sustain a haunting, mood that never once verges on the threatening or coy. He adopts a realistic style here, but with a rough, sketchy line that relies upon cross-hatching and greytone to create depth and weight, as well as allow just enough exaggeration tokeep the book from becoming stiff or staid. In the end, it enables him to create a believable world, where you don’t mind questions like what kind of acquarium allows kids to swim in its tanks any time of day or night unmonitored as much as you probably should.

First volume aside, I’m not sure how truly kid-friendly Children of the Sea is, or, rather, will continue to be. The ongoing serialization at Viz’s Ikki Web site suggests a bit of unpleasant gruesomeness that may make parents want to keep any future volumes away from their offspring, myself included. That caveat, however, doesn’t really keep me from recommending the manga to any and all who seek quality, effectively graceful and contemplative storytelling. Despite being enmeshed in traditional archtypes, this is a lovely book that suggests much more than a mere adventure story. Who knows? Perhaps after reading it you’ll be inspired to start scribbling away on your own tale, carried away by Igarashi’s narrative waves.