Kozure Ookami

Different from most manga that people are accustomed to, which tend to be more modern, "Lone Wolf and Cub" does not initially tell an overarching narrative. At the start, it follows protagonist Ogami Ittou as he takes on various jobs as a hired sword in each chapter, all while caring for his four-year-old son Daigoro. He has a set of rules: five hundred ryo (the currency of the time), knowledge of the context behind the killings, and no straightforward tasks. Halfway through the manga, an overarching narrative about Ittou's past emerges, but I won't spoil it here; just be warned that it takes some time to get there, especially if you're used to the plots of modern manga.

Writing:

As mentioned earlier, in each chapter the protagonist undertakes a killing job, but these are never as simple as they might seem. Ittou doesn't merely kill a random person with his sword and call it a day. There is always a complication: a man needs to be killed, but he's inside a jail with no apparent way to reach him; a noblewoman must be eliminated, but she has an escort and could be in any one of three carriages. That's why people hire Ogami Ittou, the Lone Wolf, considered the best hired sword in feudal Japan. Not only is he skilled with swords, but he's also clever, devising intricate plans to achieve his objectives. This smart writing is part of the manga's appeal, especially for those who enjoy intelligent and resourceful protagonists facing seemingly impossible odds.

The manga is set in feudal Japan and contains a wealth of information about Japanese history, though it doesn't offer a full history lesson. There's enough detail to give you a sense of how Japan functioned back then and may inspire you to research further online. One important note: if you're looking for an emotional and sentimental story, you might be disappointed. This is a very masculine manga created by and for men, released in Japan during the 1970s. Don't expect the emotional elements found in modern Western entertainment or even contemporary manga; there isn't much, if any, of that here.

Another key point: Ittou treats his son like a man, not a child. This could be problematic for some readers. He doesn't patronize Daigoro but instead respects his intelligence. In return, Daigoro grows throughout the story, with entire chapters dedicated to his development, turning him into a real man over the course of the manga. So, if you're seeking a masculine story with masculine characters, themes of endurance, responsibility, and strength, crafted by masculine men for masculine audiences, this manga has plenty to offer, particularly if you're tired of modern Western entertainment.

Art:

Art style is highly subjective. Initially, I didn't appreciate the manga's art style, but I grew to like it, partly because it improved over time. Eventually, some chapters became quite trippy, bordering on supernatural, such as one where Ittou metaphorically battles Buddha himself, trying to prove he could defeat even a god. The manga incorporates quite a bit of philosophy, and the visuals are often expressive. However, my knowledge of art is limited, and it is indeed subjective, so your experience may vary.

Conclusion:

If you're interested in a collection of smart stories culminating in a bloody arc led by a masculine samurai single father who instills masculine values in his son while confronting events from his past—all set in feudal Japan—there's a lot here for you.

The story unfolds in feudal Japan, an era of lords and samurai, without specifying a precise date. However, we can infer it occurs between 1700-1800 based on Itto's position (Kogi Kaishakunin) or the evolving presence of European cultural exchange elements like firearms. Despite this, other prominent aspects, such as the Yagyu clan, were significant during 1500-1600. Thus, emphasizing the obvious, it is fiction that employs historical elements to infuse its narrative with "realism."

Structured serially, with a main narrative thread appearing periodically in chapters focused on the essential parts of the father and son's revenge journey until the final stretch. Serial stories aim to deepen their historical context socially or spiritually, containing narrative elements crucial for the revenge plot.

In episodic chapters, various facets of Edo are explored, showcasing extensive research by author Kazuo Koike to represent an era of complete interest for those attracted to "classical Japan." These side stories include magicians, merchants, prostitutes, yakuza backgrounds, farmers, poultry breeders, monks, fishermen, ninjas, or, naturally, samurais and ronins. Through diverse situations, readers discover unknown sectors of ancient society, all sharing the theme of revenge in their structure.

Not only the protagonist duo is on a revenge journey; most people they encounter have their own vendettas. Hence, the journey is hostile and violent, lacking Western values like forgiveness or love. Instead, honor and duty derived from Japanese Confucianism, known as "Bushido," prevail.

Several chapters delve into philosophical and spiritual reflections on the warrior's path and the father and son's revenge journey. While I'm not sufficiently knowledgeable in Eastern religions to claim full understanding, labeling them unintelligible or pretentious seems inappropriate. Their presence is fundamental, even if one doesn't fully grasp the implications, capturing the solemnity described.

For secondary characters in each episodic plot, just enough detail is provided to understand their layers, achieving realism by portraying them as characters rather than mere excuses for confrontations. The reasons for revenge and its impact on those involved are always clear, avoiding a pessimistic view of the era. Occasionally, the stories offer glimpses of love, affection, pity, and loyalty—the kinder side of humanity. Each chapter is treated with tact and dedication, making events believable.

This human realism counters the spectacular development, especially since Itto is such a skilled warrior that fights might lack danger and risk. To prevent reader fatigue from frequent battles, the manga showcases wide versatility in fighting methods. Katanas of various sizes, spears, and special weapons used by ninjas and authorities; my read included extensive commentary on these weapons, their usage, and wielders.

A generalized atmosphere of decay, loss of traditional values, and fear of the future pervades the journey. Although possibly intended to further characterize Itto's rectitude, the realism may unintentionally promote nostalgia for the past. Regardless of the era, people remain fundamentally the same.

The best examples are the protagonist trio: Itto, with his serious attitude and unwavering ideals, embodies the story's purpose, called "the last samurai" by several characters. He respects Bushido at every moment and action within his revenge path. His unyielding and inspiring character adds complexity and realism, justifying his constant strength throughout the manga.

Daigoro, merely a child, matures early, imitating and then adopting his father's ideals, eventually participating in assassination schemes. This portrays lost innocence in hostile environments and how righteousness and integrity can persist amid violence.

My favorite character is the villain, Retsudo Yagyu, head of the Yagyu family and sole culprit behind a tragedy turning into rivers of blood. His actions lack modern justification, driven purely by selfishness and power hunger. Yet, he's impossible to hate, much like Itto. Ironically, he could be considered one of the "correct" individuals due to his ideals, unbreakable character, relentless persistence, and the respect and hatred he inspires.

To match the solid narrative elements, Goseki Kojima's graphic vision is necessary, qualifying it as one of the best-drawn manga, especially considering its publication era. Horses, challenging for artists, abound in Kozure Ookami. Full pages show their energy and movement, while double-page spreads depict them in exciting battles.

Battles exhibit complex strokes, characters' movements, fierce cuts, and powerful blows, laid out carefully to build confrontation tension. My favorite panels narrate multiple levels of what's happening and what might occur, using looks and shadows.

When not in action, mundane societal representations, like eating street desserts or crossing rivers, showcase different Japanese scenarios reminiscent of Ukiyo-e classics. Each part is admirable visually, collectively impressive.

Mentioning its significance given historical importance, it impacted the genre, spreading through Live Action adaptations. Recognized in the West, it popularizes the trope "tough man on a journey with a boy" seen in comics (Road to Perdition), video games (The Last of Us), and cinema (Logan).

I understand why someone finishing it might not be equally impressed, lacking marked empathy or bonding with solid characters on a rough path. Yet, those appreciating its entirety and parts will recognize an admirable work, the violent journey of father and son seeking revenge for stolen lives.

One of the rare masterpieces, this work offers a deeply moving portrayal of the brutal realities of revenge and the extreme measures people take to attain it. The artwork was simply stunning, and each chapter flowed as gracefully as the last. The fight scenes were outstanding; the frames seamlessly connected, making it easy to visualize every action.

The story itself was straightforward yet beautifully narrated, with characters that were incredibly complex. It was an exhilarating manga experience!

No matter what I say, this will undoubtedly be remembered as one of the greatest manga pieces in history. You have a golden opportunity to be part of its legacy.

Kozure Ookami is an all-time classic, and it deserves that status. Initially, I thought, "Okay, I see why it's a classic, but I'm not impressed," assuming it would be a 5/10. After a while, I started liking it more, so I thought, "Maybe a 6." Around the middle of the series, I concluded, "Alright, I like this manga, 7/10." Then came the final arc, and I was blown away by how amazing and masterfully it was done.

The story starts off somewhat slow, but it remains a pretty chill read. In the first 10 or so chapters, I considered dropping it due to its "slowness," but then I remembered something I'd heard: "Give it some time, and you'll be rewarded." That's exactly what happened. The story kept improving and ended up being truly unique. Honestly, one of the best conclusions I've seen.

The art is unique and beautiful, with landscapes being my favorite visual aspect. It's important to note that the art made the atmosphere mesmerizing. Most fights seemed a bit messy to me, but I never saw them as the main point of the series anyway.

The cast was small, but more than enough. Each character had their purpose in the story and played it perfectly. Abe was somewhat questionable, but he brought a lot of feelings and tension. Itto is probably the most badass character I've seen—he is a man among men. Daigoro is adorable, and his solo chapter stories were really enjoyable. As for Retsudo, at first, I wasn't a fan, but as the series progressed, he became an excellent character and probably my favorite.

Overall, Kozure Ookami is a classic among classics. Excellent storytelling, great characters, and beautiful art. I'd recommend it to everyone except those not into the samurai theme, as the story depicts Edo period Japan very accurately.

Lone Wolf & Cub is more than just my favorite manga; it's one of my most cherished literary works of any genre. The stark brutality and intense violence depicted in the series paradoxically give rise to some of the most profound and meaningful narratives I've ever come across. Many of the brief episodes provoke deep thought or are cleverly amusing, but others—especially those centered on young Daigoro—are heart-wrenchingly poignant. Witnessing these small tales converge to form the overarching story is a truly beautiful experience.

I plan to continue reading this series for years to come, and I expect its impact to resonate with me long after I finish. Most of the time, I read manga simply because it's enjoyable. However, Lone Wolf & Cub stands apart because it touches my soul in a way few other works can.

Initially episodic and somewhat repetitive at the beginning, but it dramatically improves halfway through.

Story: 7/10

The manga is deeply rooted in its era, reflecting a period of terrorist attacks, political corruption, and student protests. It emphasizes that Itto is one of the last 'true samurai,' evoking emotional responses from various characters who lament society's neglect of bushido. The lords are portrayed as corrupt or forgetful of their duties, suggesting the author's commentary on contemporary issues.

The first 70% of the manga consists of standalone episodes with minimal impact on the main plot, aside from those that develop Itto’s backstory or his nemesis’s schemes. These episodes help build character depth and explore the protagonists' philosophies, yet they feel repetitive and aimless.

Moreover, the early fights are unengaging—brief, visually uninspiring, and predictable. There’s rarely any doubt about Itto's victory, diminishing the excitement.

However, the final 30% is spectacular. When the overarching plot kicks in, the manga becomes intensely gripping. I couldn't put it down, eagerly devouring each volume to uncover what happens next. Despite wishing this intensity arrived sooner, it makes reading the entire series worthwhile.

Character: 7/10

Itto embodies an idealized version of bushido rather than a complex personality. He consistently acts according to the most 'samurai' path possible. As a modern Western reader, observing his adherence to bushido principles is intriguing.

Daigorou's portrayal is far from realistic for a child. Even real-life child soldiers display more childlike behavior. While fitting the thematic elements, his actions sometimes seem distractingly unbelievable.

Retsudo mirrors Itto but offers a more compelling contrast, though I won’t spoil why.

The supporting characters in the episodic arcs vary in quality. Some are interesting, but many fall into familiar archetypes.

Art: Absolutely phenomenal overall, particularly the character designs and facial expressions.

Overall: 8/10

While good, it falls slightly short given its reputation. If the core story had emerged earlier instead of being bogged down by episodic filler, it could easily be a 9. Nonetheless, I recommend it for the exceptional latter half. The episodic content isn't bad—it was enjoyable—but the final arc's brilliance makes the rest seem dull in comparison.

Lone Wolf and Cub - A Family Murderer

Every comic book enthusiast harbors their "guilty pleasure." That classic graphic novel that is universally praised, deemed essential, yet for some reason, remains unread by you.

I have a few such regrets, but perhaps the greatest of them is never having read Lone Wolf and Cub, a genuine milestone in manga history and considered one of the finest comics ever created—an influence on legends like Frank Miller and responsible for introducing manga to Western audiences.

The challenge lies in the fact that Lone Wolf and Cub hasn't seen any reprints, causing the manga to become scarce and turn into a collector's item. The version I perused boasts luxurious finishes, offset paper, and a cover with flaps—a fresh opportunity for comic aficionados.

Firstly, it's crucial to note that this manga was originally published in Japan between 1970 and 1976, accurately reflecting the Shogunate Era when samurai roamed the lands, corresponding to the period from 1603 to 1868. This context is important as some may find the art style of that era peculiar, especially compared to more recent works like "Blade of the Immortal" or the popular shonen manga, "Rurouni Kenshin." Unlike these, Lone Wolf and Cub is significantly more grounded in realism, showcasing raw, dynamic beauty and portraying the Edo Period with utmost verisimilitude.

Kazuo Koike's script and Goseki Kojima's art bring the story of Itto Ogami to life, a mercenary known as Lone Wolf who traverses Feudal Japan offering his sword services while carrying his son—little Daigoro—in a baby carriage. This concept alone stands out as one of the manga's highlights. It's impossible not to appreciate the beauty in scenes where Itto and Daigoro walk towards the sunset, father and son journeying along a bloody path dubbed by Itto as the meifumadou—"the errant way of the world of the dead."

Throughout much of the manga, we follow Itto and Daigoro's path as the ronin undertakes missions, continually reminding us that despite being a mercenary who kills for money, he is far more honorable than most other samurai encountered throughout the plot. Although some chapters seem unrelated and merely showcase random "missions," they gradually pique our interest in the protagonist's past and lead us to question what drove someone so honorable to offer his sword for money, seemingly endangering his own child.

In the final chapter of the first volume, we get a glimpse into Itto's past, providing partial insight into his decision to become a wandering ronin. Intriguingly, even with this backstory, the chapter leaves some questions unanswered, sustaining reader curiosity about subsequent volumes. While we grasp the rationale behind Itto's current life, we remain uncertain about the exact events leading up to the start of the chapter.

To conclude, reading Lone Wolf and Cub brought me immense joy—not just because it's often regarded as the pinnacle of manga or due to my longstanding curiosity, but for something simpler: the indescribable feeling of recognizing an enjoyable, flawless read that immerses you and transports you to a new world. Nothing surpasses that sensation.

Story: 10 | Art: 10 | Character: 10 | Enjoyment: 9
Score: 10/10

Personal Note: I've never learned so much from a single volume. Honestly, time enhances appreciation for better reads in life.

There are countless anime and manga that can rightfully be deemed classics for various reasons. Among these, only a select few ascend to the status of true masterpieces in their purest form (and by "a few," I genuinely mean just that). Towering above all is a manga considered the most influential piece of literature from Japan during the 20th century—a title not given lightly.

This manga is Lone Wolf and Cub.

Conceived by writer Koike Kazuo and artist Kojima Goseki, it narrates the tale of Ogami Itto, the Shogun's Executioner, set amidst the Tokugawa Shogunate. Upon returning home shortly after his son Daigoro's birth, he discovers his wife and retainers brutally slain and himself branded a traitor expected to commit seppuku. Instead, he offers his one-year-old son, the lone survivor, a choice: a ball or a sword. Selecting the ball would send him to join his mother, while choosing the sword binds him to his father’s path of vengeance and relentless cruelty.

Thus begins the saga of Lone Wolf and Cub.

To describe the story as breathtaking undersells its impact. Few words capture the depth of individual tales or the emotional journey shared with Ogami and Daigoro en route to meifumado (the Buddhist hell). This work evokes nearly every conceivable emotion—from righteous fury to heart-wrenching sorrow, earnest hope to blind hatred. Its intricate plot has inspired many attempts over decades, yet none have surpassed its sophistication. The episodic format enhances accessibility without sacrificing character development; if anything, it enriches the roles, making some characters more "real" in a single appearance than lead characters elsewhere.

Kojima Goseki’s artwork is nothing short of exquisite. His style blends gritty realism with traditional Japanese expressionism, allowing for profound emotional conveyance. Characters retain a sense of reality through Kojima's simple yet evocative style, complementing Koike’s gripping storyline to suspend disbelief better than most series.

The characters shine uniquely—Ogami embodies complexity: an assassin with nobility, a loving father and husband, a symbol of hope to some, terror incarnate to others. Conversely, Daigoro is innocent, playful, carefree. Their bond is beautifully depicted, often leading Ogami to trust his three-year-old son implicitly, resulting in astonishing developments, especially towards the series' awe-inspiring climax.

Though many characters appear briefly, they possess remarkable depth from their first appearances. Lone Wolf and Cub’s realism is breathtaking, and its action sequences leave readers speechless, particularly a 178-panel sequence—the longest fight scene in manga history. The series’ epic scope never grows old; even twenty years later, it still sends chills down my spine.

This masterpiece has profoundly influenced both Japanese and Western media. Beyond spawning films, TV series, and plays, it has inspired works like Rurouni Kenshin, Sin City, Kill Bill, and more. Its influence spans comics, novels, video games, and animation.

Lone Wolf and Cub transcends popular media, setting standards for mangaka worldwide. Its global popularity crosses age and gender boundaries, captivating fans uninterested in other manga or anime.

By any measure, Lone Wolf and Cub is a true masterpiece. Even now, concluding this review, I feel I’ve barely scratched the surface.

Yes, it truly is that good.