Deva Zan, by Yoshitaka Amano

Deva Zan is a graphic novel about an ancient Buddhist god, who embarks on a quest, traveling through various alternate dimensions in order to restore his memories and prevent the world from succumbing to Ku, or chaos. The book is composed in the same style Amano employed in Neil Gaiman's The Dream Hunters, with full or double-page illustrations accompanied by short prose passages, more like an illustrated storybook than a traditional comic. It is, as far as I know, the first original work by illustrious illustrator Yoshitaka Amano, which might explain why it feels so juvenile and amateurish. The plot reads something like a cross between Stephen King's The Dark Tower and a rejected Final Fantasy script. I'm inclined to think that at least part of the problem comes from translation difficulties, but that excuse can only go so far.

At one point while writing this blog post, I had planned to say something to the effect that Deva Zan felt more like a rough outline for a movie than a fully-finished literary work in its own right. And then, after a little bit of research, I discovered that that's pretty much exactly what it is. Deva Zan was first revealed to the world as the first project from Amano's newly formed film company, Studio Devaloka. They had a trailer and everything:

The movie was first set to be released in 2012, and its current fate is anybody's guess. But at some point in 2013, Amano apparently decided to bundle up a bunch of the concept illustrations he'd done for the movie, and publish it in a book. The result is a hefty tome full of gorgeous illustrations, juxtaposed with blocks of text that are as awkward to read as Star Wars: The Novelization of the Movie.

But perhaps I'm being unfair. Deva Zan is just one of those comics where the story is meant to be in service to the art, instead of the other way round. And by all accounts the art is gorgeous. I can certainly think of worse ways to spend my time than in sifting through a 300-page collection of Amano illustrations, though I still sometimes have trouble parsing his bizarre blend of fine-art sensibilities and wide-eyed androgynous manga men. Given that Amano played such a big role in developing what's now known as the stereotypical anime look, it seems disingenuous to suggest that his art looks too cliche. But I can't help my own perceptions; It's 2015, and what might once have been an innovative and signature style, now just reminds me of crappy drawings scrawled in the backs of history notebooks by angsty teenagers who just discovered Bleach.