Blood on the Tracks vol. 8

Last time, things started going off the rails again as the end-of-volume drama edged closer to self-parody than compelling.  This was only part of the reason why I was hesitant at first to crack this volume open.  I’ve talked before about how this series thrives on making the reader uncomfortable via the toxic relationship Seiichi shares with his mother, Seiko.  It was a feeling of, “What fresh hell awaits me this time?”  that was further amplified by the text on the back cover which advised me that “It’s only a matter of time before the truth comes out… and Seiichi’s psychic tension erupts into violence!!”

Contrary to what that might imply, the drama in vol. 8 doesn’t really descend into off-putting histrionics.  Sure, there were a few times when the characters came off as more laughable than intimidating – looking at you, Seiichi’s Aunt – but it mostly charts a credible path towards what feels like the main character’s inevitable self-destruction.  From a genuinely happy dinner with mommy (but not daddy), to a fight in school, a confrontation with his Aunt, and what looks to be the last we’ll see of Fukishi, it’s all downhill for the character in this volume.  Yet it doesn’t feel like mangaka Shuzo Oshimi is piling unwarranted torment onto their protagonist.  Seiichi made the choices that brought him to this point, and he looks to be committing to them even if they don’t look to be making his life any better.

Oshimi also displays some impressionistic touches with their art that makes the drama resonate more at key points.  The way the world washes out around Seiichi in the final chapter is a great touch that illustrates his isolation, while a double page splash of the world warping around him in an earlier chapter reminds me of how we were shown Nakamura’s vision of the world in the final chapter of “The Flowers of Evil.”  It’s the way that moment hints at Seiichi’s mindset that keeps it from seeming like the author is ripping off their own work.  So while this series continues to get even more uncomfortable – and vol. 8 ends on a real “Hold my beer” moment in that regard – its execution still manages to hold my attention.