Maid Machinegun Vol. #01

By John Zakrzewski     May 15, 2008
Release Date: May 20, 2008



Creative Talent
Writer/Artist:Aaliyah / Suzuhito Yasuda
Translated by:N/A
Adapted by:N/A

What They Say
Delve into the world of manga and anime fandom through the fictional diary of the ultimate fangirl. Join our heroine on a tour of the J-Pop landscape, from the Akihabara neighborhood of Tokyo to the world's biggest anime/manga conventions.

The Review
I'm still surprised how little was needed to convert me into a fan of artist Suzuhito Yasuda. Considering my significant exposure amounts to character illustrations from the series Kamisama Kazoku and the first volume of his premier manga Yozakura Quartet, little more than raw, visceral attraction demands my attention the instant I spy one of his distinctively crisp drawings. Of course, there's also something uncontrollably alluring about a petite maidpristine in her trim uniform, tight smile on her lipsbrandishing a savage machinegun. So I'll admit a cover sporting said spicy servant birthed by Yasuda's pen was entirely too enticing and greatly overshadowed whatever the book's pages might promise.

With that in mind, attempts at researching Maid Machinegunthis quirky titled light novel credited to one pseudonymous Aaliyah and featuring Yasuda's splendid maid coverwere notably less appealing. Google nets a slew of vacuous product pages, not surprising when Del Rey's own site is essentially information-free. To achieve any gainful results, one must query the title as kanji, which begged employment of a sketchy translation-engine for producing barely intelligible English gibberish.

Despite the linguistic gobbledygook, enough lucid text could be sown together informing the book is a snapshot of modern otaku culture as seen through the kaleidoscopic eyes of Aaliyah Kominami, our fictitious author and a novice cosplay maid. Working for a café situated in Japan's famed geek haven Akihabara, her days are spent warmly serving customers, dealing with a unique cadre of coworkers, and honing skills to become the ultimate maid. Shame she's far from perfect, but endless enthusiasm and an indomitable spirit usually make-up for her plentiful shortcomings.

Although Maid Machinegun reads like a lighthearted anime episode converted to prose (full of all the familiar trappings and bubbly-girl clichés one would expect from such a show), its construction is not exactly conventional. Aaliyah's tale unfolds through a series of journal entries the plucky young waitress has been posting to her Internet diary. Each chapter represents a single online essay composed by the precocious maid, chronicling her daily activities and other queer happenings.

The conceptoffering a comedic look inside one of Japan's most current trendsis unfortunately more promising than the execution. Aaliyah's voice never fully clicks, often dissolving the epistolary illusion with an abundance of linear narration when a more reflective, personal discourse is needed. The last several chapters, in particular, seemly abandon the setup, delivering instead a real-time account of the book's final throws. I found myself forgetting the online diary gimmick was even in-play, until some sampling of fourth-wall smashing text intruded upon the silly occurrences.

Such wavering style should be of the utmost detriment; but in this instance, the book soldiers on due to its story being largely frivolous. Not overly concerned with spinning an engrossing yarn, the principal focus of Maid Machinegun is expounding various intricacies of otaku culture, using the cheerful author as a prime specimen for championing the lifestyle's virtues and diversity.

From the very first chapter, Aaliyah doesn't merely describe maid cafés; she gives readers an in-depth tutorial on surviving a visit to these possibly intimidating establishments. Soon, we're off to Comiket, selling doujinshi while learning the nuances of the world's largest comic book convention. And if you need some help with moeeveryone's favorite nebulously defined otaku termAaliyah's got you covered with her lengthy categorization of relevant archetypes.

Suggesting the novel is intrinsically a primer for blossoming otaku-dom wouldn't at all be farfetched. Its bounty of anime and manga references and blatant namedropping of otaku-centric products are handled with little to no artifice. Chapters even contain itemized breakdowns, like the different types of cosplay cafés one can find strewn about Akihabara's densely packed streets. While Aaliyah's oddball antics might frame each lesson, there's zero subtlety in how the book attempts to inform audiences on the many delights of this eclectic Japanese subculture.

Faint threads of legitimate plot are, however, gradually pulled along the way, snapping into place near the novel's final pages, all for the sake of providing a traditional ending. Since Aaliyah's quaint café could use quite a bit of polish, much of the pretense for delving into the vast otaku sea is her studious endeavors at improving the establishment by better gearing its services towards their selective clientele. The story carries on at an anemic pace until slamming against a jarring transitionary chapter, which calls to light two topics at the book's core: the author's identity, and her motivation for being a maid. In glaring contrast to the text's usual brevity, this turnover is chiefly conducted through an extraordinarily long interview with an accomplished former maid. After traversing the tedious dialogue which devotes a gross amount of pages to celebrating the main character's ditzy personality, we're flung headlong through the fantastical remnant at a dizzying pace, as Aaliyah's tasked with saving both herself and the café from felonious thugs.

Criticizing Maid Machinegun becomes a peculiar task when telling an engaging, cohesive story is clearly not its intended purposethis doesn't forgive the lack of consistent structure or nonsensical material that suddenly manifests in its penultimate portions. Viewed purely as a piece of fiction, the novel is rather mediocre; there's just not enough overall substance and what does exist lacks the narrative momentum needed to compel readers through each subsequent chapter.

Conversely, if taken as an otaku guide masquerading in prose form, the book's friendly atmosphere and respectable scope of pandering themes become undeniable strengths. Anime and manga fans should find the writing style immediately familiar, comfortably coxing them further into the volume, until they're hooked by the universal appeal of referential media. People like seeing themselves reflected in their entertainment, and Maid Machinegun harnesses this desire to the fullest extent. The novel is as much about otaku as it is for them. Still, its topical treatment is ostensibly rudimentary. Beyond some minor insights, longtime followers will likely not find anything new in these pages; though for neophytes to the world of Japanese pop culture, the book offers an enjoyable introduction to a much deeper rabbit hole.