Argh, I’m a Pirate and welcome to my read-through of Bakuman Chapter 140 Limit and Phoenix in which Iwase is sad, and Miura fucking sucks. God that’s too regular.

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Limit and Phoenix Summary

The Greatest of All Time

Picking up directly where we left off, Shujin and Saiko are…ahem, activated by Eiji’s declaration to be the Greatest of All Time. Shujin wonders if it’s even possible to create the greatest manga ever while actively aiming for it. Saiko points out that Eiji managed to aim for and get first place in Jump. Shujin wonders if they can even pin down what the greatest manga ever actually is.

It’s Berserk or Dragon Ball. Come on.

At the same moment, the assistants arrive, and Saiko needs to get on top of inking.

So they ask the assistants for their opinions. Thunk.

Moriya thinks that Tezuka’s Phoenix is the greatest ever but notes a distinct difference between his favorite and the best. Kato thinks either Rose of Versailles or Glass Mask – shojo manga – are top tier. Orihara goes with Slam Dunk—a classic for sure.

Shujin notices that you can learn a lot about a person based on their manga tastes. Shujin asks if Ashita no Joe is Saiko’s contender. Saiko says it’s his favorite, but he thinks Barefoot Gen is the greatest.

That’s a legitimately interesting choice.

He remembers it vividly and couldn’t fall asleep after reading it. Moriya thinks that’s a classic that needs to be read from generation to generation. Orihara’s impressed by everyone’s deep knowledge of manga. He should get on that.

At this point, I’m not so hopeful, my dear boy.

Moriya, in particular, thinks it’s important to note the difference between favorite manga and classics. He’s not pleased with the current rankings that he finds in modern magazines. Besides, manga creators put their heart and soul into drawing manga, after all. Shujin thinks it’s hard to disregard the fact that people will use rankings, sales, and other factors.

Shujin starts to get sad about their work since he wants to create a classic, no matter how old it becomes. Not something that’s playing the popularity game.

Saiko wonders if that is Eiji’s goal.

Iwase’s Spiral

On August 12th Iwase receives a call from Miura. He’s reviewed her latest story and thinks it’s dark, but due to time constraints, they won’t be able to edit it (as though he would edit it anyway). He’ll have Eiji do something about it. However, even Eiji believes that Iwase’s work has declined in quality.

Iwase seems distraught by all of this (obligatory miura sucks) and Miura drops the news that +Natural is in 15th place this week. Miura lets her know that if Eiji wasn’t involved, she would have been axed already. He needs her to create a refreshing and exciting story.

Jesus dude. You are the worst.

Iwase says nothing to Miura’s suckitude. He wonders why she’s so quiet.

Ever reading the room, Miura goes on about how this happened due to Crow stealing the show. He also mentions the competition with PCP and Giri. He asks her if she’s read the sample copy for Crow’s final chapter. It’s amazing!

I have no words.

Iwase notes that Miura seems indifferent to her work and only cares about Crow’s conclusion. She misses whatever else he says, and he hangs up on her.

Iwase laments how no one needs +Natural (and her) anymore. Plus (natural), Shujin is competing for the top. There’s a huge gap between her and her rival now. No one is taking her seriously.

She questions what she’s even writing for and whether or not she should be a novelist.

Poor baby.

An Even Bigger Smash Hit Than Crow

At Shueisha, Yoshida chews out his team for the lack of good material to submit for serialization and one-shots since Eiji is no longer in the magazine. Everything they’ve submitted has been terrible recently. They apologize, but Yamahisa thinks comparing the work to Crow’s is a mistake.

Similarly, Aida chews out his team: they need to find a replacement for Crow asap. Miura and Kosugi believe that that’s an unreasonable bar to set and it’s too much to expect that kind of quality from rookies. Besides, all the skilled mangaka already have a series so they’re going to have to wait for a new star to appear.

Miura thinks the fastest route to attaining their desires is to have Nizuma create a new series. Aida puts the kibosh on that notion: Yujiro wants Eiji to take his time coming up with his next work so it’ll be an even bigger smash hit.

Everyone understands, but even Hattori is skeptical that an even bigger smash hit is even possible.

Back at Eiji Co, Ltd., Yujiro is gobsmacked to learn of Eiji’s ambitions. Yujiro points out that making the greatest manga in the world would be…making the greatest manga ever. Eiji wonders what the big deal is. Gosh

Yujiro correctly explains that you can’t just aim to make the greatest manga ever. He doesn’t even believe that’s possible to do with him as editor. He’s not that self-confident.

Eiji is reassured by Yujiro’s doubt; he thinks if an editor thought they could do it, he wouldn’t trust them. He’d just be grateful if Yujiro would help pursue that goal.

Yujiro is more encouraging after hearing that, but he thinks the goal is vague.

Eiji mentions he’s gifted at battle manga. No doubt about that. He asks if he can become the best using battle manga. Yujiro seriously considers it: purely in terms of sales, Dragon Ball and One Piece would be on the list of the best in Japan; X-Men is the bestselling comic in the world. They are hero and battle manga.

Eiji takes this as not being impossible, then. Yujiro sees the logic, if nothing else.

Eiji decides the characters will be the first thing he comes up with. He gets to work while Yujiro watches.

Iwase’s struggle

At her editorial meeting, Miura, still completely tone-deaf, recounts his conversation with Yujiro about Eiji’s goal. He thinks it might not be impossible, given the recent popularity of Manga in the West (ahem).

Iwase is totally silent.

Miura finally notices that Iwase doesn’t seem to be doing too well. She says she is fine.

She is not fine.

Privately she’s upset and disheartened that – even with Crow literally ending – no one has time to focus on +Natural or her needs.

Miura, a dingus through and through, decides to start the meeting. His note is that the story is repetitive, and he wonders what they should do next. Iwase’s frustration and depression at Miura’s lack of help turns to rage, and she tells him to forget about their meeting this week. She’ll come up with something on her own.

Miura wonders if he did something wrong.

Jesus.

At Iwase’s, she struggles to come up with a new story. She decides, given how useless Miura is, to talk to Eiji herself. She doesn’t know what to say to him, though. She could never honestly ask him how to make her series better. She has to do it alone. And if she fails she’ll do something… about it.

Uh oh.

Dumb Natural

On Monday, August 22nd, the final chapter of Crow is released in issue 38. The Shueisha office fields furious calls about the ending, allaying concerns about potential sequels, cancellations, et. al.

As Iwase comes home from shoping, she passes some kids discussing the ending of Crow. They express digsust that “Dumb Natural” is ongoing. They complain that the editors and Eiji are dumb for letting Crow end, but not +Natural. They also note that Dumb natural had another crummy chapter.

Poor girl.

She drops her groceries on the floor and thinks about calling Shujin. But then reminds herself she has no one to talk to. She considers Aoki and gives her a call.

Aoki answers, but before Iwase can explain anything, she overhears Hiramaru coming over with tea. Aoki explains she’s on the phone, but Iwase overhears and decides not to share her problems with them. Aoki is confused as Iwase hangs up.

A Week later, Shujin thinks Crow’s ending is an opportunity to angle for first place. Kaya points out that both Giri and Mikata are still doing well—especially now that Mikata has the TV Drama—so it’s going to be difficult. That’s why they have to go hard.

Saiko thinks it’s the right call to angle to replace Crow as a Jump signature manga.

At that moment, Aoki calls Shujin, to Shujin’s surprise and Kaya’s suspicion. Shujin explains to Aoki that he hasn’t heard anything about Iwase. He’s shocked to learn she hasn’t answered her phone in a week and won’t answer if you call the house.

Aoki explains that she got worried when Iwase called her and immediately hung up. She called back immediately, but Iwase wouldn’t answer. Aoki called Miura, and he explained that she isn’t working and is locked up in her room. She refuses to work on +Natural anymore!

Sigh.

Aoki explains that, even if it’s impolitic of her, she thinks that the only one Iwase will open up to is Shujin. Kaya thinks her behavior is selfish and doesn’t see the problematic nature of it.

Shujin asks permission to go see Iwase. She doesn’t understand why, but Shujin thinks she’s potentially suicidal if she’s engaging in Shut-in behavior. Kaya doesn’t believe she’s that way, but Saiko offers to go with him. Saiko is equally concerned by this behavior. Kaya points out that he doesn’t know Iwase’s address or phone number. He’ll get it from Miura. He’s also never talked to Iwase much and doesn’t get along with her. What’s the point?

It’s irrelevant. Saiko reminds her that Eiji is right: they’re friends and rivals who compete in Jump. That’s that.

Team Fukuda to the Rescue

Miura apologizes for his shitty behavior and begs her to open the door. He promises that the three of them – Nizuma, Miura, and She – will get +Natural back on its feet. Saiko greets her.

Miura’s confident she’s inside but won’t answer the door. Saiko rings the bell and asks to be let in.

Saiko refuses to leave and explains he’ll yell and yell and yell fro ten minutes and if she doens’t answer by then, he’s calling the police.

Neighbors get irritated by all the noise and tell the two to shut up. Saiko shouts after Iwase.

After a little bit, she finally answers. Miura’s srelieves and Saiko promises to stop shouting. But she has to listen to him. Miura’s expression si fucking priceless.

Saiko explains she’s allowed to quit if she really wants to. But if she wants to do that she needs to go to MIura and Sasaki first and set things straight. She’s acting childish, not like the smart person she is. This is not in character for her.

Iwase misinterprets the message: even Ashirogi no longer wants to compete with her. Saiko cuts in on that idea: he doesn’t want her to quit, but she can if she needs to. He explains that SHujin is grateful for entering the same industry and being his rival. He’s also glad that she inspires Shujin to hone his skills. That’s how they both feel about her. It’s up to her, though.

She remembers Shujin’s handshake from the best arc ™. That’s all Saiko has to say about the situation. He doesn’t want her to quit, but she can if she needs to. Miura offers to come again tomorrow.

Later, she’s alone in the fetal position. Saiko is still outside and asks for a favor: to open the door. She can fake being okay, but he just needs to see that she’s okay.

She opens the door.

To find Team Fukuda waiting for her, with Kaya in tow. Aoki apologizes for not realizing Iwase was struggling when she called. Fukuda gives her an open invitation to Team Fukuda and tells her to stop being stubborn. Shujin is awkward before Kaya pushes him to say what he needs to say.

Shujin won’t stop her from quitting, but they just lost a powerful rival in Crow, and he doesn’t want to lose his specific rival, either.

Awwww.

Iwase turns to go inside, to the group’s confusion. She smiles briefly to herself, then comes back and promises not to lose to them. She’s going to rise up the ranks again without their help.

They all take a beat and then Shujin cheers her on for being back on her shit.

She blushes at the attention.

On that cathartic note, the chapter concludes.

Limit and Phoenix Reaction

Iwase Got Me Feelings Things

This was not what I would classify as a great chapter, ironically, but the little one-chapter arc of Iwase’s depression hit me where I live.

A series of events through the end of last year kind of rocked me hard, not just the obvious ones, which for a variety of reasons will go unmentioned.

I lost my job. Again. I went through some other things I don’t wish to discuss that led to a depressive episode. So I felt for Iwase here. Not because her depression is logical, but because it’s very well executed.

One thing that’s hard to look past in a depressive episode is that most people are…living their own lives and, for the most part, aren’t thinking about you actively. Sure, they will think of you to the extent that they are close to you. Generally, the closer they are, the more they think. But they’re also thinking primarily about themselves.

This applies to everybody. We all focus on our own well-being, needs, and interests almost without fail, and this is not a bad thing.

But it can lead to miscommunication or a lack of attention to things that others might weight more strongly. It can lead to some self-involved thinking, but mostly, it leads to a special kind of indifference to the thoughts of others.

Not unhealthy, mind you, but special.

But when you’re not necessarily in the best headspace, it can be easy to misinterpret neutral signals for negative ones, especially when other things in your life are going poorly.

So, even though Iwase is obviously not thinking clearly when she assumes no one cares about her, she’s not entirely wrong either. People don’t specifically care about her struggles. They care about her as a person.

It’s a very nice bit of character work that Iwase—who is socially awkward at the best of times—assumes that indifference means people’s care for her is entirely transactional and conditional, and so the “logical” response to this would be to simply cut them off entirely and recede into her own world.

It’s a very difficult headspace to be in, and I’ve been there more than enough times to know the fallacies that support it. The antidote to it is to talk through your struggles with others and let them know how you’re feeling. But that can feel insurmountable when everyone seems to be in their own world, and you feel left behind.

I especially felt that last part because I’ve felt it a lot in the last few months. I’ve only started to turn the corner now with new work, and settling into a new routine. I’m rebounding.

So,, seeing Iwase withdraw felt painfully relatable—a feeling of having to pull back. It felt real. And I appreciate that because it is a good mirror to my own periodic struggles with this stuff.

It also made the climax of this story—with its emphasis on pro-social rivalry—heartwarming. I appreciated greatly that Saiko and Shujin both approached her depression with a mix of gentility and friendly competition. It makes sense for them to help out a friend by challenging them. And that’s what she needs—a challenge, a way to think she has a way forward.

This brings me to the substance of Iwase’s Issues

Can Miura get Fucking Fired Already

I feel like I’m beating a dead editor by mentioning this over and over again, but Miura is truly and unrepentantly a terrible editor. I give grace to Kosugi for kinda sucking at his job because he’s new. But Miura has been doing this for years now, and his behavior is now openly ruinous.

And it’s hard to say whether he’ll actually get canned at this point. He’s responsible for a few successful series, although that has nothing to do with him. But I find myself increasingly impatient with Miura’s behavior and attitude.

I gave him the benefit of the doubt early on, and I’ve regretted with each successive bone-headed mistake he’s made.

I’m sincerely hoping he has some comeuppance at some point because his behavior is just editorial malfeasance of the worst kind: self-centered indifference.

It’s played for laughs a bit, sure, but his behavior towards Iwase is unacceptable. He’s not paying attention to her needs and skills. He’s not providing any editing notes to her. He’s letting her fall behind. More to the point, unlike most people who are indifferent as a standard, he’s indifferent through his own self-absorption. He does this because he’s purely self-interested and cannot conceive of helping others.

What makes it more frustrating is the bumbling nature of it. If he were even remotely aware of how he affected others, this likely wouldn’t happen. But because Miura lacks self-awareness he will continue to be ruinous to anyone actively seeking his advice.

And to see him salt the wound through sheer ignorance rather than malice makes Iwase’s struggle so much more frustrating.

Do I think he will get fired?

Well, we haven’t actually seen an editor get canned yet. And Hattori also brought up the fact that editors don’t pry as a rule, but if he somehow also manages to destroy Takahama’s career through incompetence, maybe. I’m not sure.

But onto things that are less blood pressure raising

The Greatest

So, this is something I wasn’t expecting to feature as a legitimate plot point. I thought it was more of a capstone to the end of the previous arc that Eiji was seriously considering making the greatest manga of all time. It’s one of those goals that everybody kind of has, but few people treat it as an actionable goal.

And that’s mostly for a very simple reason: greatness is determined by the crowd, not the person creating it.

Sure, a good creator can do all sorts of things to make their work superlative. It’s possible to invest everything in your work and make that happen. Ultimately, determinations of greatness are done by consensus

My first blog was a review of acclaimedmusic.net’s top 3000 records. I want to make a YouTube series one day, and I started it, but it hasn’t really gotten any steam, and I’m stalling on it because the content I want to do is in-depth.

But it’s a great example of how subjective greatness is. The assistants bit on greatness was a good intro to it, and we’ll talk about that.

But the first record has consistently been Pet Sounds for many years. And its greatness is partially due to its… well, greatness. I’m not knocking it as a record. There is a lot of musical stuff going on that is absolutely mindblowing if you are a musician – the harmonies, the production, the production the lyricism.

It stands as the greatest of all time, though, because of a combination of savvy marketing, money, privilege, and power. Namely in marketing it with “Brian Wilson is a Genius” and having The Beatle’s Publicist compare him to Mozart.

Let’s call it a bit of the ol’ manufactured consent. Plus it has the tortured genius narrative going for it.

What I’m saying, obliquely, is that the elements that contribute to greatness are only partially the responsibility of the art piece. The rest comes from outside.

And I think that’s brought to bear with Dragon Ball.

Dragon Ball is hard to contest as one of the greatest action series of all time. If we’re being honest, it is probably the most significant manga ever released. It popularized Shonen and inspired legions of people to create art; it is one of the most commercially and critically successful properties ever.

It was also written at a time when the things it was doing were novel, so it benefited from being in the right place at the right time. It also benefited from being one of the series that was early adopted for programming in the West, which boosted its popularity outside of Japan. It also created norms and standards for Shonen manga that are still regular tropes.

But would it still be all those things if it were released today?

That’s the rub with greatness, and it’s why I didn’t think Eiji wanted to take it seriously. It’s not just art that makes something great.

But clearly, that’s what Eiji is focused on. And for the record, he’s totally right about the battle series being contenders for greatness. Greatness doesn’t have a fixed definition, so any story can theoretically fit the mold.

To wit, this series was written before One Piece became the greatest-selling comic book series of all time and dethroned X-Men.

That is why I liked the assistants’ each having their own preferred stories for the greatest. Even though Moriya is kind of obnoxious, he made a great point about “Favorites” vs. “Greatest” and chose a classic that has stood the test of time.

Anyway, this tangent is getting super fucking long.

Practically speaking, I’m not sure how Eiji can realistically make the greatest manga of all time even in-world. This is generally an academic discussion.

However, I like that Yujiro is willing to be equally ambivalent about the prospects. He knows it’s pie in the sky, but Eiji trusts him because Yujiro has his feet planted in reality. I enjoy their dynamic.

And I think Yujiro makes a good case for Miura sucking even more because he doesn’t have to be a good editor to Eiji. He has to pick up drafts. But he still does try to engage with Eiji in a way that will get the best out of him. Yujiro is playing non-interference but still does things for him. Miura does nothing.

Poor Iwase, man.

Speaking of that

The Boys Are Side Characters Again

Continuing with the “we are definitely heading into the endgame vibes here” era of Bakuman, the boys don’t have much to do in this chapter other than discuss making the greatest manga and react to Iwase’s struggles.

But I will mention that I like the character work here with both Kaya and Shujin.

The sequence with Aoki, Kaya, and Shujin was a lovely, knotty reiteration of their troubles. It works that Kaya is suspect about her husband’s interactions with both Aoki and Iwase and is getting petulant. Even though we know that Iwase is experiencing a depressive episode, she’s still salty about Iwase wanting to….y’know, steal her boo.

So I appreciate that Kaya has her guard up when Shujin interacts with Aoki. But I also like the little character note that Shujin is aware of how delicate the situation is by asking Kaya’s permission to see Iwase.

It’s a small thing, but it does so much to highlight our journey, especially given our emotional affair with Aoki, which…ugh.

But yeah, Saiko plays the good boy, as always, and I’m certainly not tired of it, but it’s definitely not the most interesting thing he could be doing.

I really don’t have much to say about it either because, unfortunately, we’re having another rehash of ‘x mangaka is struggling emotionally, team Fukuda has to show up and do something about it’

I don’t think it’s a bad plot beat, but it’s been done to death, and I’m tired of tiny arcs, too.

I will say, though, that one thing hangs throughout this chapter.

Eiji’s Created a Power Vacuum

This is probably the most “real” part of the chapter and deserves at least a bit of scrutiny.

Jump was in a similar state at the end of last year. It’s searching for a hit because of the endings of My Hero Academia and Jujutsu Kaisen, not to mention the new editor-in-chief selection.

While I do have my favorite manga in the magazine – there are certain preferences – aside from One Piece, there are also a few promising manga that just came out – namely Kagurbachi and, maybe, with time, Ichi the Witch – both of which could potentially fill the vacuum of those two specific series. But outside of that, the newest batches of manga have been very….so-so.

So I feel like it’s interesting to get this perspective from the editorial team. Because, remember, they need to churn out hits to keep circulation up. This is the flip side fo the argument for artists being able to end their series. They need to find new hits.

And new hits will come, because new hits will always emerge. But it may take a while to find those hits or for some running manga to become hits.

So, this power vacuum might be a way to continue the story. However, I’m uncertain how it can be used as a plot point at this juncture other than being an interesting piece of insider baseball: What do you do when you just don’t have any hits?

This is exacerbated by the release structure of quarterly serialization meetings. They have to find potential hits regularly. But if there’s nothing good, they’re still going to have those meetings, and cancel between 1 and 4 series. It’s a unique maw to be trapped in.

And, it seems, at least narratively, they are trapped in it pretty hard. How are they going to find new talent?

Maybe the boys will get a new series in the power vacuum?

While I’m still on the “PCP” will get an anime adaptation train, assuming my very earliest prediction of them making a Death Note like series – which also seems very likely now – happens, this could be an indicator that the time will ripen for them to do so.

But I won’t speculate. My prediction game has been shit these days, and I need to pay closer attention to the story.

It looks like Eiji and The Boys have the opportunity to gun for the “Signature Manga”, and that’s…let’s be real, the ultimate endgame. But will it start soon? I hope so. I want to see that battle really take off.

And if they’re going for the greatest, I could see that being a great way to capstone the series. Although I still think PCP will get animated. It’s just a hunch, but it’s a strong one.

Either way, I’ll keep reading to find out.

Until then,

Peace