I’m perpetually in awe of Kaoru Mori’s dedication to research and her artistic intensity. A Bride’s Story is absolutely, incredibly beautiful both visually and with its superb storytelling. Don’t let the title or potential subject matter turn you away–it’s not squirrely-girly shojo. Anyone could (and should!) love this.
As far as volume nine specifically…I loved it. While I love the backward-age dynamic of Amir and her husband, Pariya is the “bride” I can relate to the most. Watching her awkwardness throughout this volume was so endearing and all-too-realistic. And her interactions with Umar were so incredibly adorable and heartwarming.
I love this series and I really loved volume nine. It just made me so so happy.
The first half of volume five (what would be volume nine of the Japanese edition) is all about Tsukimi’s budding love life…or it’s supposed to be. But for me, Hanamori stole the show. Maybe because the waffling of the Amars and the perpetual threat of eviction gets a bit overdone and exhausting that Hanamori is comic relief. Or maybe he’s just too strong a character and steals whatever scene he’s in.
I never really cared for the romance between Shu and Tsukimi because I felt that Kuranosuke actually knows her, whereas she can barely even talk to Shu. But I’ve rewatched the anime recently and while I still am not Team Shu, I can’t help but hear Junichi Suwabe’s voice when I read his lines. And he does do some adorably dorky and awkward things that I *almost* root for him in spite of myself.
But it always bothers me when someone is “in love” with a person they barely know. Perhaps I’m projecting but it’s a plot point that leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
We’re getting into the stretch of Princess Jellyfish that has a lot more to do with the actual working side of fashion. Which is something I have zero interest in. I loved the initial dorkiness and comedy but once we get into hardcore fashion talk and try to sell dresses for real, I kind of zone out.
Aside from Hanamori being Hanamori, the upside of this volume is with Kuranosuke’s own self-examination. He could theoretically be in a lot more denial but I like that he’s willing to acknowledge he’s irritated with the romance between Tsukimi and his brother. I do like that despite everything kind of crashing down around him, he insists on pushing forward.
I actually had to kind of gear myself up to read volumes 2 and 3; even though this manga should be totally relatable to me, it deals with a “problem” that I don’t personally care about. And since I don’t have girlfriends and don’t drink much, volume one wore on me by the end.
However, barely into volume two, I was soooo glad I’d made myself get caught up on the series. Volume two felt like it had a lot less drunken whining and blew open the story more by incorporating the stories and perspectives of the other two friends. Now that the plot has been established in volume one, volume two felt like it got to really lay into the humor that I fell in love with during Princess Jellyfish.
Originally, I planned on just blogging volume two even though I read both because I felt volume two is actually the strongest so far. However, volume three does have its charm point in that the
girls women are (I think?) becoming a bit more self-aware and having to face their issues. Or not face them, as the case may be. Volume three also gives us a new character to shake things up a bit. Heh.
Even though I’m not scrambling to get married before the Tokyo Olympics, there is something that definitely pulls at the heartstrings wonderfully and just a bit uncomfortably while reading “Tokyo Tarareba Girls.” These two volumes have really expanded on that feeling and make the reader go, “This is…too real.”