Wednesday, April 13, 2022

nacuN volume cover notes by Daisaku Tsuru

Vol.1

I think it all started with the fantasy that if I had equipment that would allow me to swim for days on end, I could go to America or the Mediterranean for free, and if I got hungry, I could just eat fish or squid… and stuff like that. But our civilization is such that even if such an era came, we would still end up paying for air travel. And how I wish that such a subtly primitive life, where people just go into the sea and don't come back, would still exist and flourish somewhere. A contrast that suddenly came to mind: the emerald green sea, rust-covered piers, and concrete turtle tombs of Okinawa. It was with this picture in mind, that I set off on this journey.

Vol.2

Since there are no laser guns or cyberspace here, it's easy to think that this is just a story about human relationships, but it is meant to be hardcore sci-fi. Once, diving into the sea alone, I experienced an eerie sensation. That's probably what you feel when you're abducted by aliens. We can't just go to space, but the ocean is right next to us. Vast, eerie, yet enchanting, a phenomenon far greater than man. The fishing port depicted in this book is a spaceport, and the fishermen are astronauts. In this universe, the deeds and fortunes of human beings, who like or dislike money, love and hate each other, unfold in a mysterious way… I would like to try to express it to that extent.

Vol.3

Although I believe that personal experience (including reading, etc.) becomes material for creativity, not only in manga, but everywhere, what I think is also important is to forget. Experience in the present moment is vivid, but, surprisingly, I cannot draw it in manga. My memories of Okinawa from ten years ago have largely been forgotten, or have been transformed due to mistakes and misunderstandings. In drawing this volume, I dug up sometimes incomprehensible memories that sat much deeper than Okinawa. Perhaps it was a mixture of cartoons I saw as a kid. It felt like I had memories of being stripped naked and sold at the market.

Vol.4

What fires me up the most about drawing manga, is creating colorful characters. I start drawing with the strange conviction that if I have ugly characters, the "jewel in a dunghill" effect will make the pretty women drawn by my clumsy hand shine. But it is amazing how quick the beautiful men and women become unimportant. It would not be an exaggeration to say that I draw manga for the sake of these ordinary people: the greasy middle-aged men whose blackness has begun to turn into radiance; the old ladies, flabby but not lacking in feminine charm; and the creepy but lovable young men… There will be science fiction as well, so thank you in advance for your support.

Vol.5

I have a theory, which is completely unproven, that when one needs to use one's intuition, the right side of the brain activates and begins to produce heat, which causes sweating in the right ear canal, thus causing wax to accumulate in the right ear. The opposite is true when logical thinking is required: the left side of the brain heats up, and wax builds up in the left ear. Although I believe that creative work begins with an intuition (i.e., right brain activity) that I have no idea where it came from, in this volume, I fully engaged my poorly performing left brain to search for the basis of my intuition, so there should be more earwax on the left side.

Vol.6

Thanks to all of you, this is finally the last volume. I think at this point, I've tried everything I wanted to try and do in a manga. First of all, I like old-fashioned manga, that just play around with characters and situations for fun, and I wanted to bring that back to the present. Docking this with the "unpredictable and speedy development" of today's style, I wanted to create my own manga world unlike any other. It's an absurd combination that might cause diarrhea, but my ideal was to create a manga world that is a combination of Fujiko F. Fujio and Katsuhiro Otomo. I am aware of my lack of talent, so in the end, I would be happy to leave it to you, the readers, to decide whether my plan worked or not.





Friday, July 2, 2021

Kotaro Ohkoshi. A short questionnaire in Garo 1995-10

Name/Alias: Kotaro Ohkoshi
Age: 28
Years as mangaka: 9
Years in Garo: 9
First work in Garo: Akagumi no Kachi (Red Team Wins), Dec. 1986, 6 pages.

1. What motivated you to submit your work to Garo?

It was recommended by my high school art teacher.

2. How long did it take to be accepted? How many times did you try/how many works did you submit?

Two months, two times/works.

3. What type of pen are you currently using?

Maru, Kabura, G, Rotring, the rest are secret.

4. Did your attitude toward Garo and manga change before and after being accepted into Garo?

Yes, it did.

5. Advantages and disadvantages of drawing for Garo.

The advantage is that I meet a lot of people (writers and readers). I don't see any disadvantages.

6. Do your family members or relatives know that you draw manga? If yes, what do they say?

Everyone knows about it. They tell me to keep up the good work.

7. When have you ever felt like an idiot in your work? Also, if you have ever been called an idiot, when was it?

I'd like to say "Fucking idiots" to those who are loose with the manuscript payment. I guess they think "Fuck off, you idiot" when I demand it.

8. What do you think is most necessary to continue being a manga artist?

It depends on the style, but in my case it's eroticism.


Kotaro Ohkoshi, a Bizarre Man, and His Works

By Shinji Wajima. Commentary to Moon-Eating Insects (1994) by Kotaro Ohkoshi.

Freaks, retards, twins, corpses, prosthetic legs, incest, sexual perversions, cities, celestial bodies, bugs — the world of Kotaro Ohkoshi's works is filled with every possible element of the bizarre. Not only that, but in his real life, he seems to be devoted to making plastic models and figures, which could be called a modern-day Pygmalion complex. If there is such a thing as the path of the bizarre (but it's the ones that go off the beaten path that are the bizarre), he seems to be pushing forward on that path without a second thought. This is not an easy task, but I am going to explain the work of this truly bizarre man, Mr. Ohkoshi. I'm sorry to have to ask you, the reader, to join me in my poor commentary now that you are soaked in the afterglow of reading.

I met Mr. Ohkoshi at the Garo Party a few years ago. Having heard about each other's taste for the bizarre, we exchanged greeting for the first time, keeping our heads down for some reason: "Oh, I-I'm Ohkoshi," and "N-Nice to meet you." Since then, I've had the privilege of seeing his treasured photos (nothing sexually explicit), inviting him to my group's concerts, and so on.

This is the first book of his. The collection spans many years, from 1989 to 1994, but on the other hand, it also provides a good opportunity to see the growth of the artist. The work opens with the title story, "Moon-Eating Insects."

And what a poetic world that is! Poetry is something percieved through the power of imagination evoked with words, and this work, which focuses on the children of the moon reflected in the water and the weird people surrounding them, is truly a poem. The scene at the end of the story, in which they climb a spiral tower to bathe in the moonlight, has a decadent feel to it that is almost reminiscent of Taruho Inagaki's Astrophilia. At the same time, the author's taste for the bizarre is on full display here, as is evidenced by Benisuke Tare, the resident of "a room that overlooks all the necessary evils" in Pagota House. In addition to the elements presented by his predecessors, such as Ranpo, there are new necessary evils, rock'n'roll, and Yokohama. If Ranpo's stage is Asakusa, Ohkoshi's stage is Yokohama. Indeed, a town where the old, the obscene, and the cutting-edge coexist, in other words, a place where light and shadow are intertwined is appropriate for the bizarre, and if we were to seek a city like the old Asakusa in modern times, it would be Yokohama.

At the beginning of "Flesh and Limits," a 3-pickup Gibson SG labeled "Magic Bus" caught my eye. It's The Who, isn't it? Oh, so the guy with the great nose stepping on the fuze is Pete Townshend? This kind of Mushitaro Oguri-like pedantism is also the charm of Mr. Ohkoshi, a bizarre man. Meanwhile, stuck with his foot on the fuze, Pete, a.k.a. Sato, is surrounded by CDs, pears, cult videos (I dare say, Jodorowsky), Ango Sakaguchi's Discourse on Decadence, his girlfriend's left leg and other useless things. Sato is lamenting that it's too much for his grave goods, but I wonder if this is all that's needed to make a bizarre man happy.

Both "Strange Tale of Panorama Town" and "In the Forest, Nightmares in Full Bloom" are set in Yokohama. By the way, the girls Ohkoshi draws are adorable. With their characteristic droopy semi-circular eyes, as in the 74th panel of "Nightmare Forest", I can't help but fall in love with them. Come to think of it, when I was in high school, the high school girl next door, Hisako, who I dated for a year, had those kind of eyes... "Panorama Town" is a kind of fetishistic tale. The moment the body is separated from the mind, it begins to assert its own existence and emits a glow. At the same time, the brain, which has lost its body, is also sad in the sense that it reminds us of the lost body. Ohkoshi seems to have a deep fondness for body parts, and as you may have noticed, at the top of "Deviant Paradise," the girl's breasts, legs and other parts of her body are laid out on the plastic model kit. Now, ladies, I would like to give you a word of caution to stay away from Mr. Ohkoshi.

"Daughter of the Origaki Family" and "I Looked at the Sender and It Was Anonymous" are two of Mr. Ohkoshi's early works. Although the influence of Kazuichi Hanawa can be seen in both the composition and panel layout, there is already a trend that can be seen in all of Ohkoshi's works. It is mixed space-time, present intermingled with past and future. "I Looked at the Sender" is a rural bizarre tale in the style of Yumeno Kyusaku's Inaka, no, Jiken, but the story begins in the first year of the Heisei era (1989) and is supposed to be written down in 2008. When it comes to "The Daughter of the Origaki Family", it is set in the year 63 of Kobun, which is a fictional era that does not exist in our timeline. Ranpo said that the living world is a dream, and the nocturnal dream is reality. In order to develop the sense of the bizarre that has existed since the Taisho era into the present day, such a method would be optimal. By disrupting time, the reader becomes dazed and confused, and the nightmare itself becomes reality.

"Moon-Eating Insects," one more red nightmare and the second incarnation of Benisuke Tare. The first story was poetry, this one is prose, and since it's a recent work, we can percieve the growth of the artist in it. Not only the artwork has gotten much better, but also the storytelling. Onishi, the owner of a bloated mind, and his robotic proxy, are being hunted down, and the story is entertaining in a way that Akira Kurosawa's High and Low would be. However, one last thing remained a mystery to me. That is, whether Benisuke is a man or a woman. On the last page, his wife is squeezing his penis, which makes me think that he is a man, while in the first story, Tare says to herself, "If I were not a woman, ...※" in front of Chill. But actually, it doesn't matter either way. In Mr. Ohkoshi's worlds the past and future can change at will, and men and women are mere syllables in a language game.

※ TL note: It is not Tare who says this line, but a character in the book she is writing.

Well, according to the newspaper report, the robotic lower body is still missing. Perhaps it's still running around Honmoku in search of the bizarre.

Wednesday, January 29, 2020

Barely Fiction: First-Class Crime Material Leaked From the Brain

By Atsushi Hachisu. Commentary to Ryouki Keiji MARUSAI (2007) by Kotaro Ohkoshi.

In 1938, the year before the outbreak of World War II, a mass murder occurred in a poor village in the mountains of Okayama Prefecture, one of the worst in the history of crime. It is commonly known as the Tsuyama Massacre. On the dawn of May 21st, a 22-year-old young man named Mutsuo Toi, decapitated his grandmother with a wood-chopping axe at his home, and then, armed with a shotgun and a Japanese sword, attacked nearby residents one after another. Thirty people were killed and three were seriously injured in the inferno. After the attack, Toi fled into the mountains and committed suicide by shooting himself near the summit.

A few years ago, I visited that site to collect materials for a magazine article. At that time, there was a document that I was dying to to see. It is a book entitled “The Tsuyama Incident Report (the killings and woundings of 33 people in the village of West Kamo, Tomata District, Okayama Prefecture)” published by the Criminal Affairs Bureau of the Ministry of Justice. The cover is carefully stamped with “Top Secret”. It is an internal research document prepared by the police after the incident, and naturally it should contain detailed records of the incident that are not disclosed to the public. This kind of material is distributed only to a small number of people involved in the investigation and can’t be found in either the local library or the National Diet Library. One time, I found a copy of the book for sale on the Internet for 18,000 yen, but it turned out to be a trick to attract customers. The editor in charge tried to write to those who had the materials to ask for access to them, but in the end, our hopes were not fulfilled.

When I read this book by Kotaro Ohkoshi, I was struck by its contents, which were “barely fiction”, and at the same time, while having a visceral sensation in my guts, I had a strong feeling that this was a first-class criminal document. You could say that I had a hunch. The bizarre incidents created by Mr. Ohkoshi are splendidly constructed. The wriggling patterns of human relationships feel like the real thing. The perverts are terrible in their vividness. Mr. Ohkoshi freely uses his imagination to provide the greatest momentary pleasures, but at the cost of stripping away the filter of falsehood and exposing the essence of those unrestricted desires.

The scenes of sex and violence in this book are quite intense, but such is the genuine crime material. The aforementioned editor had a chance to see an internal police report for the Kiyoshi Okubo incident (1971), a serial rape and murder case. In the report, there were living photos of the victims and photos of their corpses side by side. This would be unthinkable in today’s public reporting.

However, “Ryouki Keiji MARUSAI” never descends into vulgarity. In the author’s crystal-clear worldview, insanity and grotesque are illuminated like a complex stained glass. It’s a mysterious talent to perfectly balance on the edge between reality and fiction. Just as crystals naturally form geometric patterns, morality quietly and steadily shapes order. The members of the Bizarre Crime Division play the roles of almost succumbing to the desire and barely pulling back just at the right moment. Or, they are like criminals who have transcended the criminal world and can no longer help but live as detectives.

But why do the leaks of top secret material happen anyway? When the Abe Sada case (1936), in which a geisha strangled her lover to death and cut off his penis and testicles, caused a stir in the world, Abe Sada’s testimony was leaked and published by an underground company. The truth of the matter is not clear, but it smells as if it was traded for money, taking advantage of the public’s curiosity. Or perhaps there are cases of force majeure, such as the owner of the materials dying and they being mixed in with the collection of books disposed of by the bereaved family.

And I still wonder at the fact that the “top-secret” crime material, “Ryouki Keiji MARUSAI”, was leaked from the brain of a manga artist named Kotaro Ohkoshi. Isn’t it miraculous for the bizarre fantasies lurking in the human subconscious to have manifested so neatly? This is itself a marvelous “incident”.