A couple volumes into “Death Note,” and I knew I was in trouble. I experienced the most bizarre push and pull in my time with “Death Note.” I would at times be so thoroughly entranced by the twists, turns, and endless games of mental superiority that I could barely stand to set the book down. Other times, I would walk away from the book for days at a time out of a mixture of disgust, frustration, or just plain apathy. As this cyclic whirlwind of emotion continued, I quickly realized that the chance of finishing the series in a month’s time was slim. Furthermore, the odds that I could do the series justice in a single review piece was even likely. As such, I’ve decided to spend this time chronicling my thoughts on the first half of “Death Note.”
Written by Tsugumi Ohba
Illustrated by Takeshi ObataLight Yagami is an ace student with great prospects–and he’s bored out of his mind. But all that changes when he finds the Death Note, a notebook dropped by a rogue Shinigami death god. Any human whose name is written in the notebook dies, and now Light has vowed to use the power of the Death Note to rid the world of evil. Will Light’s noble goal succeed, or will the Death Note turn him into the very thing he fights against?
“Death Note” is pretty much your typical teenage drama. Teenage boy deals with girls, school, parents, and his demonic notebook that allows him to kill at will. Oh, so maybe not so typical? Using the “death note,” Light remakes himself as the murderous Kira, a supernatural vigilante that plans to rid the world of criminals, creating a truly peaceful world.
Amidst the mainstream media zeitgeist, the closest thing to which I can liken “Death Note” is Breaking Bad. Both series tell the story a relatively normal individual who, when presented with the opportunity, use their power to set themselves up as “gods,” committing terrible crimes against humanity. It’s classic cautionary tale; “absolute power corrupts absolutely.” The main difference between the two, however, are the way the characters are portrayed. Walter White may be a terrifying, horrible human, but he’s relatable and even sympathetic at times. The spark that sends him down his dark path is a desire to help those he loves. He does not initially set out to do harm.
Light Yagami, on the other hand, takes it upon himself to play judge and executioner to all of humanity. From page one, Light is selfish, manipulative, and generally unlikeable. Back to the Breaking Bad, analogy, whenever Walter faced possible exposure or capture, at least in the earlier seasons, I felt the urge to see him escape, to live on to cook another day. With Light, it was the other way around. I yearned for his exposure and cringed at the lengths he would take to avoid capture.
In fact, while he may be the book’s “star,” you would be extremely hard-pressed to cast him as the protagonist. He’s not even an anti-hero. He’s a stone-cold, no nonsense villain. “Death Note” is a Batman book starring the Joker, a particularly nasty Joker that would give the likes of Alan Moore, Scott Snyder, and Christopher Nolan pause.
No, if I had to cast a protagonist in this bleak story, it would be the enigmatic “L.” L is the mirror image, the other side of Light Yagami coin. Though equally intelligent, L is otherwise the polar opposite. Where Light is stylish, charming, and commanding, L is scruffy, bizarre, and aloof. He’s a truly fascinating character to watch.
Light isn’t the only stumbling block that impaired my enjoyment of “Death Note.” The rules governing the titular notebook are equally vexing. While I commend Ohba for instilling so much thought and detail into the mechanics of the death notes and by extension the world(s) in which they exist, it can at times become a bit overwhelming. Explained both in story and in “rules” scattered between chapters, the laws regarding use of the death note range from simple and logical to absurd and arbitrary. New rules regarding the death notes appear as the plot calls for them, modifying Light’s actions to prevent the story from going completely off the rails. I suppose it should come as no surprise, as the death note is a literal deus ex machina.
Continued belowWhile there are number of important side characters, one character of particular importance comes in around volume 4, forming a sort of trinity with Light and L. Unfortunately, her character is even more upsetting than Light, the final straw that nearly turned me away from the book entirely. Misa Amane enters the story as a gothic dream girl, one with an unhealthy obsession with Kira. Miss is so hopelessly devoted to Kira, and by extension Light, that she is willing to give herself over to him fully, even to the point of death. Her inclusion plays into Light’s power fantasy in the most unsettling of ways; total domination of another human. Misa gives herself up as a slave and Light treats her accordingly; as a tool, a means to an end. A thing. It’s the Joker/Harley Quinn relationship taken to its most morally repulsive end. The relationship’s sexual overtones, combined with themes of force and dominance, make this pairing nearly unbearable.
If this was what the book was going to be for eight more volumes, I was fully prepared to check out completely. And yet, just a few chapters after Misa is introduced, the book experiences a massive status quo shift, one that I never saw coming. The entire conceit of the book is turned on its head, casting characters in a new light (such an appropriate phrasing!).
While I’ve spent nearly a thousand words in what could be described as an attenuated rant, there is quite a lot that I’ve enjoyed regarding “Death Note.” L (or Ryuzaki, if you’d rather) is a truly fascinating character, one that I found myself sympathizing and empathizing with over the course of these six volumes. Ohba’s ability to weave a compelling drama is impeccable. More than once I sat at the edge of my seat, frantically turning pages to see how a particular scene would play out. I’m amazed at his ability to constantly be thinking multiple steps ahead in a situation, accounting for all variables and situations. Equally intriguing are the book’s supernatural elements; the shinigami Ryuk and Rem and their iconic death notes.
In the realization of “Death Note,” Obata is equally instrumental. His world is a modern gothic masterpiece, inhabited by grotesque spirit beings. Obama gracefully toes the line between the natural and unnatural, a true jack of all trades without the disappointing caveat. His tennis match between Light and L shows he’s just as comfortable with sports and action as he is with spine-tingling horror.
At the end of six volumes I want very much to say that I like “Death Note.” However, there are a number of factors that hold me back from giving it a full stamp of approval. Perhaps I’m letting my biases show; I’m not terribly fond of the horror genre and the darkest I’ve ever gotten was listening to Linking Park in 8th grade. The aforementioned status quo shift certainly went a long way towards reigniting my interest. The Light/L dynamic is without a doubt the book’s strongest point and I look forward to seeing how it develops further. Volume six ends very much with a sense of finality, indicating that another major shift may be around the corner. My only hope is that the book continues to explore new ground, rather than retreading the cyclical mind games of previous volumes.
While I could say more, I think it’s better to save some for next month. Check back around the start of December for my final thoughts on “Death Note,” as well as the announcement of the final Manga Club entry of 2015.
