Yesterday I finally received my order of
Flat (Natsu Aogiri) in the mail. Are you reading Flat? You should all be reading Flat, and here is why:
★ It's a slice-of-life manga that actually feels like "real" life. The story follows Heisuke, a second-year high school student who's somewhat of a slacker and can't be bothered to make an effort at most things. The one thing he does like is baking and eating sweets. One day, he comes home from school to find his 4-year-old cousin, Aki, at his house. Heisuke's mother is looking after Aki during the week while Aki's parents are at work. Aki is serious, shy, and extremely sensitive - the exact opposite of Heisuke. Somehow, through a mutual love of desserts, Aki becomes emotionally attached to Heisuke and looks up to him as an idol. Flat is the story (and, according to Aogiri, the tone) of Heisuke's and Aki's small adventures through daily life.
★ Aki is adorable without being precocious or, worse, cloying. It's so hard to write believable child characters, I think. They either end up being downright infantile and insulting, or cynical miniature adults disguised as "prodigies." So it's very refreshing to have Aki, who reads as a wholly natural, believable young child.
★ Heisuke and his friends come across as real teenagers. Granted, they are idealized versions of your "average high school student," but again, they are reminiscent of real people you hung out with in school. Heisuke, the thoughtless, though not ill-intentioned slacker; Suzuki, the serious one who keeps Heisuke on-task; Satou, the cheerful peacemaker of the group who enjoys going along for the ride. All three fill pretty basic types, but they are perfectly suited to the scope and tone of the story, and Aogiri doesn't try to dress them up with unnecessary quirks.
★ Heisuke's and Aki's relationship is free of excess and cumbersome sentimentality. If writing child characters is difficult, writing adult/teenager-child relationships that aren't minefields of emotional turmoil, trauma, and tear-stained redemption is near on impossible. Any time an innocent, wide-eyed babe enters the picture, you can pretty much bet that the protagonist - emotionally stunted, often lacking parents of his or her own - is going to learn an important lesson about the power of love.
Not Heisuke, though, and thank God for that. He does, through having to help take care of a small child, start to grow up and take some responsibility, but Aogiri wisely doesn't make the situation more than what it is: a seventeen-year-old babysitting his four-year-old cousin sometimes after school. Aki adores Heisuke; Heisuke likes Aki and thinks he's ok, but given a choice he'd rather hang out with his own friends. Aogiri presents this as natural and matter-of-fact. The dramatic tension in most chapters comes from Heisuke trying to figure out how to balance living his own life with not disappointing Aki's high opinion of him.
★ Stable, functional, middle-class families! It is so nice to see a manga where all parents of all major characters are alive and act like, you know, adults. No one is a deadbeat dad, no one has a hilarious drinking problem, no one breaks down in hysterics, and no one is the potential star of their own crazy reality show. The nuttiest parent is Aki's father, and even he is comical without being ridiculous. He is, in fact, rather endearing as an excitable, loving, involved dad still trying to figure out how to relate to his son.
★ The story's central theme is that all relationships are inherently unequal, and Aogiri runs with it, oh my goodness. She is able to get so much character development out of this core thesis, and so many layers of subtleties. Heisuke does not love Aki the way a four-year-old loves his older cousin; Aki's dad briefly hates Heisuke because he worries about being usurped in Aki's affections; Aki's savvier child-friend Kotarou unsettles Aki with the reality of big kid-little kid relations; Heisuke often is not able to accommodate Aki's needs and worldview the way his mother can, having (obviously) raised a child before herself.
In one of the most poignant and ambiguous chapters, "Consonanza," Satou and Suzuki search the school when Heisuke unexpectedly goes missing. Rumors have been circulating that Satou used to be a kyouken, a troublemaker who started fights. Some classmates joke that Heisuke may have been kidnapped as revenge against Satou, which sends him into a panic.
I love this chapter, first of all, because Aogiri neatly avoids all of the usual, predictable plot twists. The kyouken bit is a red herring, a distraction: we never find out the full story of Satou's past, and it doesn't really matter at all. The real story hinges on a sentiment, voiced separate three times within the chapter: "Just because you like someone, it doesn't mean you'll get your affection returned." The first time is by Satou, talking about Heisuke's relationship with Aki (to mean that Heisuke's doing a good job, but doesn't go out of his way to humor Aki); the second by an upperclassman friend of Heisuke's, suggesting Heisuke won't appreciate the effort Suzuki and Satou are putting forth; finally, by Satou again, after he and Suzuki finally find Heisuke.
It turns out that Heisuke fell into, and got stuck in, a pit dug by the boys' eccentric teacher to catch students attempting to escape the school grounds. Satou expresses overt relief and even starts crying while Suzuki just seems exasperated, yet somehow Heisuke and Suzuki resume their bantering, a closed conversation that shuts Satou out. In an inner monologue, Satou muses, "Not everyone shares the same wavelength, so we give and take." In the end, it's his own affection that he feels is unreturned, though it's unclear whether he means by Heisuke or by something special in Heisuke's and Suzuki's relationship to which he is an outsider, even though the boys are usually shown as a trio. Satou concludes that he is always "standing somewhere convenient," and when the other two asks what he means, he smiles and replies, "Nothing," ending the chapter.
Aogiri deftly balances sympathy with cynicism. The reader feels for the sweet, now slightly bruised Satou, yet his role in the trio is presented as it is: he's the one not on the same wavelength, who maybe values his friendship with Heisuke more - or, at least, differently - than Heisuke does, and who, because he's the one doing the liking, has to make the compromises and concessions. It's also a testament to Aogiri's skill that she writes this scenario as "flat," perhaps suggesting that even realizing an uncomfortable truth about one's friendship is just a moment in a lifetime, something that can be accepted and stored away behind a smile.
There's a lot more to be said about Flat - even though it runs only four volumes so far - and so many more scenes I want to do close readings of. Like how the chapter about Aki baking a cake for his father's birthday is really about Heisuke's relationship with his mother! Or how the chapter about Aki running his first errand is a meditation on father-son relationships! And the art! The art is beautiful in itself, but Aogiri really gets the most out of it and has it complement and strengthen her already great writing. Everything about Flat is clean, elegant, and uncluttered, letting the reader enjoy depth over breadth.
The scanslations haven't been updated in a couple of months, but I'm crossing my fingers that Bliss or DRAT will continue to work on this series. And if you read Japanese, this is a title definitely
worth owning.