I really need to stop giving Nagata-sensei my money. At least until she writes a manga called, “My Life-Changing Experience: Getting Therapy.”
SPOILERS
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I bought My Wandering Warrior Existence at my local manga shop, Next Chapter Books. The person behind the counter who sold the manga to me said, upon seeing the title, “Oh! I love Nagata-sensei” and I need you to know that without hesitation I replied, “I do, too.” I suspect that if, by some miracle of chance, I was introduced to Nagata-sensei on some fantasy trip to Japan, I would adore her. She seems like my kind of people–funny in a self deprecating way, a bit nerdy, and… I’m pretty sure, neuro-divergent and on the ace/aro spectrum.
However, lately, there’s something about Nagata’s autobiographical books that I’m finding difficult to read.
I actually read this volume several weeks ago, but I didn’t know how to talk about it.
I’ve made myself a very strict policy with this review site that basically goes: if I read a manga (or even watch an anime with a corresponding manga,) I will review it. I started this blog as a place to keep track of what I read. I’d like to keep up that original spirit, even though my audience has, I think, grown beyond that. In particular, I feel like this site has become one of the places where readers can see reviews of the things that other sites might not touch with a ten-foot pole, like my whole Mermaid Yaoi and Sub ‘verse round-ups. Because, if I read it–even if it’s WEIRD and/or porn-y AF–I will review it. I’d like to think this is part of the charm of MangaKast, at any rate.
That being said, Nagata-sensei is writing about her actual life.
It’s difficult to critique a narrative when it’s essentially someone’s lived experience, only illustrated and made public.
But, I’d like to offer critique. I have some things I wish I could say to the real life person behind the manga. Reading this particular volume makes me want to learn enough Japanese in order to write a letter to Nagata-sensei explaining to her that it’s pretty clear to me that her “problem” in this particular volume isn’t a problem at all.
The set-up for My Wandering Warrior Experience is that Nagata-sensei got invited to a friend’s wedding and, in essence, the whole fun, party-atmosphere of the reception seemed like an answer to her struggles with depression. Like with the autobiographical manga that rocketed her to fame, My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness, Nagata-sensei decides to take matters into her own hands. What she thinks she wants is to have a photo shoot of herself in a wedding dress, because why not?
Because it’s not going to be the same, is why not.
Worse, it sets off a whole cascade of “why can’t I have relationships with other people,” and, of course, her mother, who gets super into the fake wedding pictures, lamenting the fact that she’ll never have grandchildren.
She then spends much of the rest of the manga exploring her relationship with sex and romance.
As an American steeped in ace/aro culture, reading it feels like reading a primer for “How Do I Know I’m Aromantic /Asexual?” But, Nagata-sensei never seems to come to this conclusion in the book? Instead, she sets herself up–as she does in these manga–as a “hilarious kind of broken,” a target for ridicule and laughter.
That last bit made reading this particular volume un-fun. She’s not any more broken than any other aro/ace person, which is to very clearly say NOT AT ALL. Being aro or ace is not a problem to be fixed. It’s a label that helps you understand that you are who you are. So, I left the last page with a bad taste in my mouth, like I’d participated in some kind of weird self-bullying or something, you know? Like I was supposed to laugh at or find humor in the suffering of someone who just needed an ace or aro friend to pull them aside and say, “Yes, honey, there’s a word for it. You’re FINE.”
It’s getting painful. Yet I keep buying these books??
I think it’s that last part that I’m finding hard to justify to myself. I really need to stop reading about this woman’s life. It feels weird to be taking any enjoyment out of her actually very serious train wreck of a life. Like, in the previous book, My Alcoholic Escape from Reality, she ends up hospitalized for fatty liver disease which she brought on by basically being an untreated alcoholic, a condition she never solves, other than to realize that she can cheat on her fatty liver diet by STILL DRINKING OCASSIONALLY. This woman needs real therapy, not another manga contract.
I say this not to be cruel, but because I really care about her. I love her quirky little adventures, like hiring an escort service or deciding to do her own wedding shoot, but those stories get a whole lot less funny when you realize the toll they seem to be taking on a real person.
So, can I recommend it? Yeah, I don’t know. On one hand, I want Nagata-sensei to have enough money to live and possibly afford the therapy she could benefit from. On the other, I don’t know what to do about how ghoulish I feel after having bought and consumed a product that is based on someone’s pain. Queer pain should not be entertainment, and I feel that aro and ace pain count as queer pain. But, again, Nagata-sensei’s art is adorable as usual and her love of her super-huge refrigerator is honestly delightful.
But I don’t know what to do about these books.
Your thoughts?
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