Madhouse

Solanin narrates an intimate tale about the challenges of love, loss, and grief, focusing on individuals in their twenties who often find themselves overlooked by society.  

History: This is a profoundly human story because it feels incredibly real. The protagonists have just graduated from high school and must adapt to adult life, leaving behind childhood aspirations—like playing in a band—to make a living like adults. It's a well-structured narrative that reads quickly but is deeply enjoyable, beautiful in every aspect, with touches of humor and moments of sadness and raw emotion. I emphasize once again that this is a very human story where everything feels authentic, as though it could be the story of any ordinary person. In this regard, Solanin deserves a 9.  

Characters: The group of protagonists is superbly crafted, all connected by their shared passion for music despite their differences. Well, sort of, because the guys in the group are constantly laughing at absurdities. After the events of the first volume, the second and final volume showcases significant character development, especially for the protagonist. Through the small time skip between the first and second volumes, you can clearly see how the characters evolve. Even though you might predict how the plot will unfold after this development, rest assured, it doesn't lose its appeal. For the character section, I'll give it another 9—I adored them all (even the protagonist's mother, hahahahahah).  

Drawing: While Inio Asano, the creator of the manga, excels more in crafting emotionally moving stories (e.g., Goodnight Punpun) than in his artwork, he still creates stunning landscapes of Japan and characters that are simple yet beautiful and endearing, though not overly intricate. And that recurring device of black panels with a bit of text is something I personally enjoy, but I also think those texts could be presented differently instead of always using a black background, as some pages alternate between vignette, black, vignette, black... which I don't particularly like. In the drawing section, an 8 seems sufficient, though I might even consider lowering it to a 7, but... nah.  

Entertainment: I finished the manga in two days but thoroughly enjoyed it throughout. The story and art style create a calming experience that keeps you engaged. Although I initially doubted it due to the occasional nonsense, by the end, I truly loved it, finding myself reflecting on the manga for days after finishing it. For entertainment, I'd rate it an 8 out of 10.  

Conclusion: A touching and relaxing story with a strong sense of realism that will captivate you almost instantly. Adding up all my previous scores, it merits an 8.5, but since MyAnimeList seems stuck in 2005 and doesn't allow decimals, the final grade is an 8. It's very good, but a 9 feels too high when considering other works by the same mangaka that are superior.  

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Asano Inio's Solanin captures people at a pivotal moment in their lives: their early twenties. That daunting time when self-doubt and uncertainty about the future creep in, made even more intense because we've already been through years of studying subjects we may or may not care about, graduated from college or university, and been thrust into the real world with no turning back.

But there is always the option to go sideways. Asano's stories incorporate elements so unexpected that they keep his manga from falling into cliché—a trap that's easy to stumble into given the subject matter. The early twenties are an awkward phase where we dive into counter-culture entertainment like The Matrix and Fight Club, memorizing every line, reading Haruki Murakami, writing cringeworthy poetry, and dabbling in hobbies that could potentially bring fame and fortune if we pursued them seriously—but we don't, because it's just a hobby, something we're mediocre at. Could we really make it big...right?

The character Meiko, an office lady in the manga, finds herself tired of routine and takes a bold step by quitting her job. This act is particularly courageous in Japan, where societal norms emphasize rigid structures. Her decision to leave puts pressure on her part-time boyfriend, who is exploring music with two college friends. Can he turn his passion into success and rescue them both from potential poverty?

Her resignation sets off a chain of choices and events that propel the couple into uncharted territory. Though frightening, this journey remains life-affirming as confronting one’s identity and purpose in today’s world requires immense courage. It prompts the question: Am I happy? Can I change my life?

In another author's hands, Asano's themes might feel trite and overused; however, Solanin is fresh, mature, humorous, captivating, and deeply emotional. It encapsulates the essence of our early twenties into two volumes of heartfelt drama, delivered in Asano's signature style.

The humor is unpredictable yet inspired, the dialogue sharp and genuine, the story grounded in reality, and the artwork stunning, filled with striking imagery that sidesteps the obvious pitfalls other creators might fall into.

Asano's approach goes straight to your heart, aiming to make it resonate with Solanin. Read the manga while listening to Shugo Tokumaru’s ‘Exit’ album and let yourself sing out loud.

Inio Asano's Solanin resonated with me deeply. I initially picked up the manga but forgot about it after a few days, only to dive back into it once I resumed reading. The standout feature of this manga is its realism—the characters, settings, and situations all feel genuine.

Moreover, the manga is visually appealing, with crisp, clear, and neat illustrations. It's also a quick read, as the chapters are relatively short. Every so often, a character—whether main or side—says something that truly hits home. Even days after finishing the manga, its characters, plot, and themes still linger in my mind. To me, this is a sure sign of a great series: one that keeps readers thinking long after it's over.

I would absolutely revisit Solanin, and I highly recommend it to anyone reading this. If you enjoy slice-of-life stories, you'll undoubtedly appreciate Solanin.  

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Solanin is a seinen coming-of-age story focusing on a pair of former bandmates navigating the uncertainties of post-graduation life. For some, this transition can be challenging. The carefree college lifestyle now demands a 9-to-5 job that lacks passion, tied to a degree chosen on a whim during aimless early college years.

Solanin somewhat captures this essence. While I can relate to Meiko and Taneda to an extent, the narrative didn't particularly captivate or resonate with me. The manga leans heavily into slice-of-life elements, emphasizing character development and emotional depth. Thus, its appeal hinges on readers connecting with Meiko, Taneda, and the bandmates' struggles and restlessness.

What truly frustrates me is when a manga centered on slice-of-life and coming-of-age arcs introduces dramatic events. Sure, these incidents could occur, but in a story striving for realism, their inclusion feels jarring and inconsistent.

Not that I found the manga engaging prior to these moments, but I doubt I would have completed the series—had it not been for its concise 29-chapter run. <p>

Solanin is truly a remarkable work. It isn't your typical slice-of-life manga, not by any stretch. While the storyline may not be entirely original, it is incredibly heartfelt and engaging. The "cast" consists of ordinary teenagers, each navigating that challenging phase of life where things begin to get tough. The story revolves around their struggles.

Has anyone ever told you that you have talent in something? WELL, NOPE. You're just an average person.  
You want to become the greatest guitarist in the world? Or perhaps a famous lawyer? NOPE. Reality can slap you in the face. Not everything will necessarily go as planned. You will struggle (in most cases).  

I personally believe almost everyone knows or has experienced this feeling when you start growing up and everything becomes darker and harder. Still, there's light beyond the darkness, and life won't always be so harsh. You'll experience great moments. Solanin is precisely about this, at least that's how I see it.

But that's not all there is to know about Solanin. There are many other reasons why it's a masterpiece. The character development is outstanding. It's not about silly "kawaii" girls with absurdly random problems like in some other mangas/animes. It's about teenagers discovering the difficulties of life. Taneda, Meiko... these two will face tough times, but also enjoy good ones along the way.  

The art is breathtaking—simple yet stunning. Though I'm no professional artist, I genuinely admire the artwork; it looks incredible to me. It doesn't scream OMG KAWAII DESU NEEEEE, and that's what I loved most about it! The characters are realistic—not perfectly human-like, but without the large, exaggerated, unrealistic eyes often found in other works.  

I won't spoil anything, but I guarantee you'll feel something after finishing Solanin. Sadness, happiness—it will likely be a mix of both. Don't expect it to be overly dramatic like some other manga/anime stories (which I won't name). It's simply about... life.  

Thank you for reading, and I apologize for any (likely numerous) spelling or grammar mistakes, as I'm not a native English speaker and lack advanced skills (unfortunately).  

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+This is a spoiler-free review+  

Solanin is a manga by Inio Asano, an artist celebrated for his work on Oyasumi Punpun. If you've read that series, you might have an idea of what to anticipate from Solanin. This manga isn't a tale of unrelenting happiness, but it's also not purely disheartening. It made me cry, yes, but it also made me laugh. Just like life itself. At its core, it narrates the story of a young couple deeply in love, yet burdened by the weight of uncertainty about their future. The narrative circles around them, their personal struggles, their circle of friends, and their families.  

The story is as compelling as they come. It’s straightforward, ensuring you won’t struggle to follow the events. That doesn’t imply it lacks quality; rather, it’s crafted with such grace that it remains profound yet succinct. As mentioned earlier, the story follows a young couple navigating survival. While it starts with their everyday routines, it swiftly delves into the challenges awaiting them. The world depicted feels authentic and well-developed, lending the story a realistic and relatable vibe. Whether it evokes laughter or tears, the storytelling grips you from start to finish. With only 28 chapters, you can easily finish this manga in a single day.  

The characters are meticulously developed, each possessing distinct personalities and traits. Generally, the ensemble is highly engaging, making it easy to form attachments, even when some of their choices may frustrate you. This enhances the overall mood of the manga, creating endearing yet imperfect characters. I refrain from elaborating too much because a significant part of the charm lies in discovering these individuals at your own pace. Trust me when I say the writing here is top-notch.  

Asano employs his signature semi-realistic style, which harmonizes beautifully with the narrative. The visuals are a delight, especially the breathtaking backgrounds. The artwork is exceptionally clean, with panels that are never overcrowded or overwhelming. The layout is impeccably organized, providing a seamless reading experience. The facial expressions particularly stood out to me, playing a crucial role in conveying emotions during poignant moments. Whether it's a carefree grin during a casual meet-up with friends or a heart-wrenching sob under the moonlight, the expressions effectively communicate the characters' feelings. I swear, in one particularly sorrowful scene, the expressions alone were enough to bring me to tears.  

Overall, the story is genuinely enjoyable. It’s sad, yes, but in a rewarding way. The humor is well-executed, and the pacing keeps you engaged without ever becoming burdensome. There’s never a dull or overly intense moment; the first chapter establishes a tone and rhythm that persists throughout. It might tug at your heartstrings, but it’s never unbearable. It becomes intensely emotional yet remains uplifting, which is my favorite aspect of the entire work.  

In summary, it's challenging for me not to award it a perfect 10. The art, story, characters, and overall atmosphere of the manga are impeccable. These elements aren’t groundbreaking in terms of pushing the medium’s boundaries, as the manga understands its purpose and strives for excellence in simplicity. Everything is executed flawlessly, thus deserving a 10. It’s a must-read, no doubt. As a final note, the +18 rating should be respected. There’s nothing graphic—just occasional profanity and nudity, appearing perhaps once—but the themes are intended to resonate with adults. The anxiety of transitioning into adulthood is portrayed masterfully, and you might not appreciate the manga as much if you haven’t experienced that feeling yourself.  

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"Solanin" marks my third encounter with the works of Inio Asano, and it continues to be a manga that radiates freshness while showcasing an authorial style that has grown more refined over time. By presenting events, ideas, and themes tied to processes and psychosocial phenomena largely familiar to Japanese young adults—such as conformity, entering the corporate workforce, prospects for personal growth in an economy stagnant for 30 years marked by persistent deflation and an aging population, and the transition to adulthood in high-pressure urban environments—Asano crafts a brutal realism both aesthetically and narratively. This approach ensures a significant level of visceral impact, fostering reader identification and empathy with his story. The famous sentiment of "he is just like me fr!!!" resonates strongly.

However, "Solanin" transcends mere relatability to establish itself as a mature slice of life capable of delving into the deepest insecurities of its target audience and sparking profound discussions. Regarding this realistic approach, a preliminary observation: in one review of this manga, user "ChouEritto" comments that the slice of life genre is "inherently flawed when not having an additional element added to have it stand out from the crowd," citing examples like Planetes and Haibane Renmei—to some extent, he is accurate.

Simply extracting a segment of time and space from one or more individuals without incorporating more "fantastical" elements responsible for delivering an engaging narrative can indeed seem dull. Yet, beyond all potential debates on this subject, it suffices to say that Solanin's intent is not fabrication: the author aims to openly and sincerely discuss issues affecting a substantial portion of the global population.

A DISCUSSION ABOUT REALITY  
To facilitate this discussion, Asano accomplishes the remarkable feat of exposing and making public the intimacy of his characters, exploring individualities as complex beings with their own desires, perspectives, certainties, and uncertainties embedded within a society that molds and suppresses their possibilities. In this context, the duo of Meiko and Naruto stands out by presenting a series of relatable questions and dilemmas concerning the future and romantic relationships without losing sight of each character’s distinct characterization. In other words, the cast serves not merely as tools for the author to convey his themes about the pressures of a rigid social order but are also ambiguous and, above all, human.

In "Solanin," this external or self-imposed oppression is presented textually: there are numerous dialogues and monologues that progressively convey each character's worldview on various personal or collective topics (regrets, the organizational structure of labor, the importance of financial stability, the human relationship with money, etc.). These texts are rich, sincere, and free from excessive dramatization regarding real and everyday problems, characteristics that constitute the mentioned realism (for instance, Naruo's relationship with his father and Kotani's "old-fashioned" remarks). While other works may overlook this social aspect, as seen in "Garden of Words" (which shares converging themes), "Solanin" demonstrates a commitment to discussing based on Japan's material reality.

A DISTANT CLOSENESS  
Particularly concerning the soliloquies, the first issue might arise. Perhaps due to the manga's brevity, the author was compelled to present feelings more pragmatically and directly, often through the repeated literary device of transcribing the thoughts of the focused character. Even if this narrative technique aligns with Asano's method, the monologues could weary the reader either by (i) being too frequent or (ii) occupying extensive portions of the frames, hindering visual appreciation.

Nevertheless, I believe this feature does not exhaust the reader because (i) the manga is short, offering a swift read, and (ii) this aspect is balanced by a steady non-verbal narrative, featuring a sensitive arrangement of elements, angles, and visual rhymes. Examples of this non-verbal quality include the allusion to Ritsuko's backstory in just one "secondary" frame, an efficient (though somewhat overt) metaphor with the manga's opening image, and the arrangement of objects within scenes.

In this facet of Asano's artistry, photorealism manifests in backgrounds alongside a more restrained character design that avoids certain visual archetypes. Unlike "Oyasumi Punpun" and "Nijigahara Holograph," the author presents rigid and tight frames with limited angle diversity, amplifying the narrative's intimacy and bringing the reader closer to the events. This reinforces the general concept of a slice of life (a particular snapshot of the time and space of specific individuals).

This claustrophobic atmosphere permeates all chapters, reinforcing the author's thesis regarding phenomena such as loneliness, personal confinement, and the insignificance of life. In essence, all the art harmonizes with the narrative most of the time, including the disruptive moments of ecstasy/climax where drawings fill entire pages. As a side note, the Brazilian edition of "Solanin" enhances this sense of closeness through its compact 17.6 cm x 10.6 cm format. Regrettably, this format diminishes the ability to appreciate the details Asano meticulously draws.

A LITTLE SLIP  
Up to this juncture, "Solanin" appears to be a highly cohesive manga in approach, well-organized and executed. However, in this work, one can observe a characteristic of the author that became more pronounced later in "Oyasumi Punpun": the presence of overly dramatic events or conflicts escalating into genuine human tragedies. Without divulging spoilers, I refer to the events concluding volume one. Despite contextual support underlying these events and their development, and despite the script revisiting this episode to deepen the reader's understanding, the main event at the end of the first part seems discordant with the remainder of the work.

Compared to preceding and subsequent events exploring everyday life at a leisurely pace, this incident disrupts the overall tone of the project to create a dramatic turning point. As mentioned earlier, a slice of life lacking additional elements might bore the reader, so Asano adopted this strategy. Again, even though it coheres with the rest of the manga, the dramatic aspect of "Solanin" suffers significantly due to this event, with no other moment matching the dramatic intensity of the first volume's conclusion.

OTHER NOTES  
- Yes, I cried.  
- The instances when Asano fills the entire page with his illustrations are profoundly meaningful and beautiful.  
- It's a highly humorous manga, even if the themes are relatively challenging to engage with.

CONCLUSION  
Despite any issues or flaws inherent in Inio Asano's authorship, "Solanin" is a manga worth reading and enjoying, standing as a robust work that employs relatability and identification to provoke essential reflections and discussions in its target audience through an ideal harmony between aesthetics, narrative, and themes.  

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The couple are both avoidant, and they have significant needs for meaning, assertiveness, and efficiency in their lives. It's frustrating and sad for me that they lack outside help, with no one there to provide meaningful guidance.  
Taneda attempts to shoulder much of the responsibility for creating meaning but lacks sufficient empathy and insight, which ultimately enables Meiko's lack of accountability.  
It's challenging for any of the characters to be vulnerable with one another, yet they do make strides toward personal growth.  
I was deeply moved by several of the main characters' outbursts and moments of assertiveness (the most relevant scene for me is when they confront the producer about their record).  

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