GeGeGe no Kitaro is one of the most famous characters in all Japan. Generations of kids there have grown up knowing all about him: right now I suppose the nearest equivalent we have in the UK for universal recognition would be Doctor Who. But the adventures of Kitaro and the manga of his creator, Shigeru Mizuki, have never been translated into English - until now.
Kitaro is a kind of informal ambassador between the human world and the world of the supernatural. If you have a problem with ghosts or monsters, he's the one to call. But beware: it also works the other way. If ghosts or monsters have a problem with humans, he's the one they call too.
Kitaro looks young but he's actually hundreds of years old. He's very powerful but his powers are unusual. Flocks of crows carry him wherever he's needed. His hair stiffens into needles in the presence of supernatural danger and can also, should the situation demand it, be fired out of his scalp, machine-gun style. His waistcoat can change shape - into a net, say, or a parachute. His sandals act like guided missiles - flying out, striking enemies, then returning to their owner's feet. His best friends include a living wall who can change shape, a living sheet who can fly, and a wise, loving but very lazy eyeball.
My Japanese is shamefully poor. When I was in Japan I read Kitaro manga and watched Kitaro anime without understanding the words but I loved the stories anyway: being able to read the text of Kitaro's adventures now has confirmed for me that they are every bit as wonderful as they seemed.
Kitaro is children's storytelling of a particularly pure and intoxicating form: reading it is just like being told a story by an excited child. 'Kitaro and his Japanese monster friends had a big fight with a vampire, a werewolf, Frankenstein's monster and a witch!' 'Kitaro grew a hundred metres tall and got all hairy and when the humans got scared and sent tanks out to shoot him he breathed on them and the tanks got hairy too! And then this happened! And this-!'
The barest glimpse into the life of artist and author Shigeru Mizuki will tell you that the effect is entirely deliberate. This is a man who fought in World War Two, and wrote and drew harrowingly about his experiences in other books now translated by Drawn and Quarterly - Onward Towards Our Noble Deaths, and his epic multi-volume history Showa. If you like Kitaro you might also get a kick out of Nonnonba, Mizuki's charming, alarming memoir of growing up in a small village and hearing about the supernatural from a formidable granny. But Kitaro is the place to start, I think. It's Kitaro that made Mizuki a national figure in Japan, because with it he reintroduced a whole new generation there (and several more since) to Japanese traditional folklore, especially concerning yokai: if, like me, you've an interest in such things it's essential reading. But what makes Kitaro particularly special is the passion and delight Mizuki brought to it - the sheer wild youthful craziness of the storytelling. And those are qualities that can - and should - touch anyone. ( )

Over the last few years I have become increasingly interested in yokai--Japan's supernatural beings and monsters of myth and legend. When it comes to yokai manga the most influential creator in Japan is Shigeru Mizuki. His most famous series GeGeGe no Kitaro is considered a classic and continues to inspire others. I was absolutely thrilled when Drawn & Quarterly announced that GeGeGe no Kitaro had been licensed in English. Kitaro, released in 2013, collects stories from the first few volumes of Mizuki's GeGeGe no Kitaro published in Japan between 1967 and 1969. Also included in Drawn & Quarterly's Kitaro is an excellent introduction by Matt Alt (one of the co-authors of Yokai Attack!) and a yokai glossary by Zach Davisson, both of which are particularly useful for readers who aren't familiar with Kitaro or yokai, but which should also be interesting for those who are more knowledgeable.

"It is said that when the crow caws thrice, and the frog responds twice, the appearance of Kitaro is imminent." Kitaro of the Graveyard, a one-eyed yokai in the form of a young boy whose ways are mysterious and who wields great spirit powers. Generally a friendly sort of fellow, Kitaro helps protect people from more malicious yokai although unscrupulous humans might find themselves on the losing end of an encounter with him as well. Sometimes working alone and sometimes enlisting the help of other yokai, Kitaro's adventures take him all over Japan, everywhere from its most densely populated cities to its most remote islands and beyond. It is part of Kitaro's mission to defeat evil yokai. The spirits and monsters that he faces will take all of the esoteric knowledge and supernatural skills he has to vanquish them, not to mention a little luck.

The stories in Kitaro tend to be episodic and vary in length--most are around fifteen pages while the longest could easily be collected as their own graphic novels. Although the stories aren't directly related, many share recurring characters. The most notable are Kitaro himself, his father Medama Oyaji--an eyeball with a body who resides in Kitaro's empty eye socket and enjoys a good teacup bath--and Nezumi Otoko--a half-human, half-yokai troublemaker and sometimes friend. Mizuki was inspired by more than just Japanese folklore when creating Kitaro. In addition to traditional yokai and his own imagination, popular culture and more modern kaiju were also important influences. Even monsters from Western literature, film, and mythology make an appearance. As a result, Kitaro is a lively amalgamation of sources.

I found Kitaro to be utterly delightful. Although it is a horror manga dealing with powerful supernatural creatures and featuring some legitimately creepy scenarios, Kitaro is also very funny and even cheerful in tone. Kitaro does seem to gain abilities as is convenient to the story, but it is still amusing to see how he manages to get out of precarious situations. It can be a bit silly at times, and on occasion deceptively simple and straightforward, but Kitaro is also a great deal of fun. Because of its episodic nature there isn't much plot or character development, but Mizuki's creations are still memorable. I particularly appreciate all of the different traditions he draws from to create a tale that is distinctly his own. I loved Kitaro and enjoyed the volume immensely. I sincerely hope that Drawn & Quarterly will be able to release more of the series.

Experiments in Manga ( )