By: Peggy Sue Wood | @pswediting

It’s challenging to recommend a series that hasn’t been officially licensed for translation, particularly an older one that may never be translated in our lifetime. This is especially true for the works made by creators who have often been underappreciated in Western fandom, despite having some works adapted into an animation and how popular the work itself may be in some niche areas.

One such creator I would like to recommend but find difficult for this very reason (i.e. lacking translation and popularity) is Asumiko Nakamura. Nakamura’s work, in my opinion, is among the most visually captivating and emotionally profound manga-literature I’ve ever encountered. However, their work is largely unlicensed for English translation and hard to come by.

One of the first times I encountered their work was in an artbook at an anime convention, specifically an artbook for J no Subete, which I’ll discuss more momentarily. From there, through admittedly questionable means, I started consuming Nakamura’s prolific and extensive list of works, like Le Théâtre, which is a collection of Nakamura short stories that contains one my personal favorites “I am a Piano,” and Doukyuusei, which received an anime adaptation in 2016 and briefly brought some recognition to Nakamura’s name in the West, although it seems to have faded quickly.

It might be cliché, but not inaccurate, to suggest that Nakamura hasn’t garnered as much attention in the US because they were ahead of their time, and now we’ve moved beyond the point where they might have peaked. Their early work, which started in the early 2000s (as far as I can tell their debut was the year 2000), truly resembles literature. The storytelling is nuanced and complex. At times, Nakamura presents gothic themes, creating works that can be considered as true examples of gothic literature from their inclusion of the supernatural elements and that notion of the sublime that I’ve discussed on this blog before. Other times, Nakamura explores complex perspectives on sexuality or wartime history, offering profound insights through a new and different perspective that deeply resonates with the emotional core of these ideas and stories.

Their newer work, I think, has lost some of that nuance but is still literary. What I means is that Nakamura’s work always shows depth, complexity, and artistry in their writing. In contrast to what we might refer to as “regular” works, or more commonly work that is commercial or mainstream and meant to prioritize entertainment value, accessibility, and mass appeal over artistic experimentation and thematic depth.

While commercial/regular work can still be well-crafted and enjoyable, it often lacks the elements of language, style, themes, symbol use, characterization, and—well—depth that literary work has.

For example, Nakamura’s more recent work, Sajou Rihito no Chichi to Sono Buka (2022) is a spin off of Doukyuusei featuring Rihito’s father as the protagonist. Although the story starts off slowly, by the end of Chapter 1, it becomes evident that is a story about progressing. Sajou Rihito, the main character, grapples with overcoming the prejudices ingrained in him by his conservative upbringing and still conservative surroundings, a struggle that intensifies internally as he is confronted with his son’s sexuality.

Despite his deep love for his son, Sajou struggles to accept and understand him, prompting him to explore and comprehend what factors have shaped his son’s identity and what aspects of this lifestyle are compelling. However, he gradually comes to realize that his son’s sexuality is not a matter of choice, preference, or attention-seeking. I mean, obviously, sexuality isn’t a “choice” but that’s the point. This realization is still something people struggle with and continue debating, especially in conservative settings.

Nakamura, by depicting this sincerely with the many different thoughts running through the father’s head as he wraps his mind around the idea and engages with gay men in a community transforms the narrative into a profound exploration of familial bonds and personal growth. Elevating the side story from a cash-grab capitalizing on the popularity of the series and its anime adaptation from a few years ago to a sincere look at a still present and progressing mindset in society and culture. Change and growth doesn’t happen in a day, and we see that through Sajou who has made mistakes and is still making them… but also trying to learn. (By the way, the Doukyuusei storyline is much longer than what you might see in the anime; it is a collection of work that is a great read for those interested. You can check out the “Doukyuusei Reading Order Guide” on MyAnimeList to help guide you.)

I often reflect on this aspect and many others of Nakamura’s stories. While many of them belong to the BL (Boys’ Love) genre, they are not typically about the fluff or a quick progression or romance. Instead, they are about people, their struggle with mindsets, personalities, and diverse perspectives. Offering the readers a glance at understanding how much external influence can warp internal ideas and visions, and allowing readers the chance to empathize with someone who may be very different from themselves. Their work speaks to human experiences, even when the characters themselves are not human or when you have not felt or experienced things the same way.

One of my personal favorites, for example, is the J no Subete that I’ve mentioned above a few times already.

J no Subete is a Japanese manga series written and illustrated by Asumiko Nakamura that follows “J” (or “Jay”) from adolescence to adulthood. The title translates as “J’s all,” (J=J, no = possessive, and subete = all).

In the first volume, Jay meets honor student and future lawyer, Paul, and during these early years they form an inexplicable bond at a private school. The story begins in the early 1950s, post WWII, and the scars of war are felt even though the center of this story is on differences of identities and experiences.

Notably, Jay is a trans character, but the terminology for this experience hasn’t gained popularity and rotation within the time the story is set. So, instead, Jay is referred to by other names until some time has passed in the work itself.

It’s a brilliant story with a juxtaposition of the glamour that Jay puts on compared to the personal struggles within. There is a lot of trauma felt by Jay, but also by Paul who is being raised by a pretty overly involved aunt and dealing with his own identity (for reasons I’ll let you read to find out).

Nakamura masterfully weaves the narrative, forcing Jay and Paul, mostly through separate but parallel means, to confront their inner struggles and external factors head on. Providing readers with a raw and emotional exploration of trauma and resilience.

In a nod to the importance of diversity and representation in storytelling, J no Subete takes a bold step by exploring themes of sexual identity and trans representation in a period marked by a time and placed in a setting where these topics were beginning to rise with a lot more attention from media and a lot more conflict from society with police openly bashing and crashing queer communities, with medical communities treating patients unfairly, and so much more. The setting and story reminds me a lot of reading Stone Butch Blues, a novel by Leslie Feinberg which follows the life of Jess Goldberg from the 1940s (to, I believe the 1950s) in New York. The book has been described as a “call to action” for LGBT communities.

In an article from Slate on Stone Butch Blues, June Thomas writes, “The novel never shies away from portraying the anti-Semitism, classism, homophobia, anti-butch animus, and trans-phobia that protagonist Jess Goldberg faced on a daily basis—but it also shows the healing power of love and political activism.” This line, I feel, encapsulates J no Subete as well, for in the story through the characters of Jay and Paul, readers are shown the ways in which anti-Semitism, classism, homophobia, and trans-phobia are faced on a regular basis in this post war setting. It also portrays, in a similar way, that the healing power of love, for oneself and others, and political activism that can have an impact on changing minds. Leaving the story off on a positive note with the notion that though things are not yet ideal, they are the best they could be in the moment and continue to get better over the time.

Having written all that, I think that rather than recommending any one of Asumiko Nakamura’s works to read I have to recommend all of them. Initially, I had planned to only discuss J no Subete here but in reflecting on Nakamura’s work, I think that all of them are worth exploration because all of Nakamura’s narratives are a testament to the power of visual storytelling and seek to portray some aspect of the human experience. They inspire empathetic and compassionate looks, showing that people are not all good or all bad. That there are reasons behind actions you can’t always understand without first understanding the differences in the way people think because these are emotionally driven narratives that go beyond the surface.

So, I recommend, as much as you can, to find and immerse yourself in the layers of brilliance and vulnerability within Nakamura’s work, for they are truly unforgettable reading experiences.

Thank you for reading!

Developmental edits by: Krow Smith | @coffeewithkrow