View of Cream Soda. The rhythm of everyday life

Cream Soda. The rhythm of everyday life Eleonora Benecchi

Abstract: In this work I will focus my attention on a specific manga, Cream Soda by Adachi Mitsuru (1996). As suggested by Eco (1999), I will analyze this single work keeping in mind that it belongs to a medium and some genre practiced through this medium, but focusing my attention on the specific syntax of the speech of Adachi. This means that in this work I won’t talk about manga in general or in itself, at least, not in the foreground and in the first instance, but I will consider Adachi’s specific execution of the art of manga. This work will start from the analysis of single panels, and their relationship with each other inside the page layout, following the critical path indicated by Thierry Groensteen (1999), and will be then accompanied by the analysis of images and texts contained inside those panels, with special regard to their relationship with each other and with images and texts contained in other panels, following the lead of Barbieri (1995) and Pellitteri (1998).

The analysis of the elements that this text brings together to create a coherent narrative, and those elements it will not, will show that to properly understand Adachi’s manga the reader must recognize the fictional nature of what he is reading and his function as co-author of the story. Obviously this reflection is based on a first level or narrative interpretation of the text because it is starting from this basic layer that all the other layers can be explored. This is also the reason why this work provides a punctual examination of the single panels.

The analysis here proposed will also demonstrate that, despite many panels open up to different levels of readings, the activation of the second or third level of reading is not a given. It will also become evident, though, that if one stops at a first level reading, the most obvious one, the text in question isn’t really fulfilled according to its author’s expectations: the reader’s high engagement with the text and how, as a result, he is able to better understand it, forms the heart of Adachi’s style and language.

Disseminating his work with clues, spoilers, symbolic objects and inside jokes, Adachi invites, in fact, his reader not only to re-read the text but also to read between the lines. As it will be demonstrated through this work, with his stylistic solutions and meta-narrative approach, Adachi often brings into question the art of manga and its specific language, and therefore I believe that the analysis of his peculiar execution of this art and language can represent a good starting off point for a more general discourse on the manga language.

Introduction

In this paper I will focus my attention on a specific manga, Cream Soda, fourth manga of the collection 5X4P by Adachi Mitsuru, first published in the magazine Big Comic Superior and then collected among others in the second volume of Short Program (1996). As suggested by Eco (1999), I will analyze this single work keeping in mind that it belongs to a medium and some genre practiced through this medium, but focusing my attention on the specific syntax of the speech of Adachi. This means that in this work I won’t talk about manga in general or in itself, at least, not in the foreground and in the first instance, but I will consider Adachi’s specific execution of the art of manga. As it will be demonstrated by this work, though, with his stylistic solutions and

meta-narrative approach, Adachi often brings into question the art of manga and its specific language, and therefore I believe that the analysis of his peculiar execution of this art and language can represent a starting off point for a more general discourse on the manga language.

Going back to the principal aim of this paper, a critical analysis of the specific syntax of a specific author, one of the main questions one should answer, when starting the analysis of a amanga or a comic, is what would be the most appropriate level of analysis for this kind of text.

In the analysis here proposed, I choose to follow the critical path indicated by Thierry Groensteen in his Systeme de la bande dessinée (1999).

According to the French scholar, the main difference between a simple image or illustration and a comic is identifiable in the fact that the last type of visual text is based on what he calls the principle of solidarité iconique: panels are parts of a page and are usually organized inside this page following a specific layout; this means they can be considered both as isolated units and as parts of a narrative scheme. This means that a comic can be read as a linear sequence of panels only if one keeps in mind that each single panel is placed side by side with other panels inside strips, formats and pages. Following the lead of Groensteen, Cream Soda will be analysed panel by panel but the single panels will be each time re-inserted in the page layout keeping the focus of analysis both on single panels and on the page scheme.

In this framework the panel is considered the minimum constituent of the comic language which is why this analysis starts from the single panels and not from its constituents (texts, balloons and images). I believe, though, that the study of the relationship between the drawings and the texts inside the panel itself it’s crucial even in this framework of analysis. The analysis of single panels, and their relationship with each other inside the page layout, will be then accompanied by the analysis of images and texts contained inside those panels, with special regard to their relationship with each other and with images and texts contained in other panels. The analysis of images and

their attention on the single components of panels. In the perspective proposed by these two Italian scholars, the drawings become symbols that are arranged on the page, and within the panels, in the most logical way to make the reading of the story work and to move the reader’s eye around the page in the way the author wishes it to move. This secondary level of analysis is here presented as essential to underline the subtle distinctions and connections through which the specific syntax of Cream Soda has been built.

First level: analysing panels

First page: introducing the glass and the window

There is an inherent rhythm created by how the author sets up the panels of a comic and this rhythm is also underlined by the words put into the panels: the shape and the amount of panels used in a page, the way the panels are set on the page itself, these are all choices that affect how the viewer reads the strip and give to each comic a specific rhythm (Barbieri 1998). Looking at this issue from the viewer’s point of view, reading panels creates a rhythm in the reader’s mind and this rhythm is part of the story as much as the plot and the characters.

Looking at the general layout of the pages in Cream Soda we can easily recognize a four strips format where each single strip is broken down into rectangular panels of small size. Despite the regular and ordered structure of the pages, Adachi avoids the grid effect using panels that are different in size and shape and inserting balloons that break the sidelines of the single panel. Interesting enough, the fact that the author allows his reader to recognize the existence of an average scheme behind each page is what makes the disruption of the format so important to emphasize specific acts or points in the narrative.

Because of the expected four strips format, looking at the first page of the manga we are immediately struck by the size of the first panel which is indeed a splash panel.

The panel shows two objects: on the foreground a glass of cream soda lit up by the light of a window visible in the background. The glass is untouched while the window glasses are blank and make it impossible to see what’s outside. The only verbal elements in the panel are the title of the collection of five mangas, [5X4P], and the title of the manga in question, the fourth in the collection, Cream Soda. Apparently this first panel serve the function of a typical introductory splash panel which provides a means of establishing characters or setting, as well as drawing the reader’s attention. Far from being simply a cover or a title to the story, this panel introduces two objects that will prove to be crucial to the narrative itself: the window and the glass of cream soda.

The following three panels must be read in quick succession, as it is suggested by their position inside the page: the presence of the panel number 4, which connects the second and third strips, and the small dimension of the panels 2 and 3, tend to push the reader’s gaze to the bottom of the page, accelerating the reading pace. It stands to reason that the graphic design of the page here becomes essential to guide the interpretation of the page.

The story starts effectively with panels 2 and 3 where two unknown and hidden characters are engaged in what seems to be a deceptively simple conversation:

Balloon 1: What hour is it? Balloon 2: Mh?

Balloon 3: It’s past one o’clock. More or less.

The dialogue is split into three balloons; the first one is the question, the other two are the answer. Each panel depicts some details about the setting of the scene; thanks to the shop sign “5X4P” in the second panel, we can identify the location as a coffee-shop. The third panel shows a window looking on the outside, even though what is on the other side of the glass is not visible. As we can see from this brief description panels 2 and 3 again present the same elements introduced in the first panel, adding some details: the title of the manga collection 5X4P is also the coffee-shop name, while the window’s grid, which was a pure abstraction in the first panel, is portrayed more naturally and recognizable as the café’s window.

The fourth vignette is a medium long-shot which is a presentation picture of the two characters we “heard” talking in the previous panels: a man and a little boy sitting at the coffee shop’s table.

The man appears quite ordinary: the haircut and the clothes emphasize his dullness; moreover the position of the face hides his expression behind the lenses of his glasses. The reader’s attention is focused on the boy’s figure and on his peculiar stiff posture; it’s an obvious attempt to assume the expected posture when sitting at a table. The tension between the two figures transpires not only from the child’s body but also from his serious and focused look and it appears even more clear when comparing his posture with the more laidback posture of the man and with his half-smiling face. Two new balloons directly connected to the characters offer a slight variation of the previous dialogue:

Balloon 4 (boy): How long? Balloon 5 (man): Mh?

Balloon 6 (man): Well…It’s past since 35 minutes.

This similarity between the two exchanges allows the reader to connect the previous sentences with the right character: the first balloon is referred to the boy because it is connected to the follow up question expressed in balloon 4, while the second and the third balloons are connected to the man because they are a variation of the answer given in balloons 5 and 6.

In this shot Adachi allows his reader to watch a wider part of the café, giving a context to the two elements introduced by the title-vignette: it’s now clear that the glass of cream soda is positioned in front of the boy to be eaten and that the window is on the left side of the table where the two characters are sitting. The dialogue appears just a variation of the first one, but if we put the two verbal exchanges together and read them in rapid sequence, as the graphic design of the page suggests us to do, we are struck by the boy’s insistence in knowing exactly how much time has passed and by the coyness of the man. The repetition brings out the weight of the waiting and makes us reread the elusive answers of the man in a different light: his uneasiness in telling the exact time of the wait to the boy shows that this is an unscheduled waiting.

The panel number 5 is a close-up of the boy looking outside the window. It’s a mute panel that calls for a pause in the reading and directs the reader’s attention to the boy’s tense look. By now it’s obvious that the two characters are waiting for someone and that the window is depicted from their point of view: the window is opaque because there’s nothing to see outside, the only person who would be worth seeing is absent.

The sixth panel shows the man’s profile. Thanks to the direction of the light it’s clear that the man is not looking at the window. The most important parts of this panel are the two balloons that the author uses to give away two major clues regarding the existing relationship between the characters involved in the story: the mysterious person the man and the boy are waiting for is a woman and she is described as a very busy person (balloon 7 “Don’t worry. She said that she would came to see us between one meeting and another…”); the woman seems to have a fairly close relationship not only with the little boy for whom she is bringing a present, but also with the man, judging from the promises she made to him (balloon 8 “…with your birthday gift. She promised me that!”). It is also clarified here that the occasion of the meeting is the boy’s birthday.

The fifth panel is the only mute panel in the page and the boy’s silence appears at this point to be an unspoken accusation against the woman guilty of being late on what is perceived as an important occasion. Once again, the page’s scheme becomes pivotal to better understand the meaning of the single panels. The continuity of this panel with the sixth panel isn’t random but serves to emphasize the opposition between the two main characters: the boy is silent and has a serious look, while the man talks in a calm tone of voice and keeps a hopeful smile on his face.

On a final note, this first page serves several functions: it gives the story a setting, the coffee bar “5X4P” (panels 2, 3 and 4); it introduces the three main characters, a man and a little boy that are “visible” and a woman who is still absent but “expected” to appear; it gives away clues about the relationship between the characters thanks to the words put in the panels and the juxtaposing of

the panels against each other; lastly in all the panels we are presented with the two objects introduced in the title-panel, the glass of cream soda and the window, a clear pointer to the fact that those two objects are an important part of this story.

From this first step of work, it should be obvious that the analysis of single panels can give useful indications for better understanding the story, but the need of giving the images a context also comes to light: each new fragment allows us to better understand previous parts of the story, putting them in a new light and raising expectations about what is going to come next.

Second page: it’s not just a cream soda

The second page respects the four strips format but emphasizes the division of the page in two main parts that are the mirror image one of the other: each part is composed of two strips even though the format of the grid is broken by one larger panel which is positioned at the beginning in the first part and at the end in the bottom part of the page. The first and last panels of the page are then different from all of the other panels with their peculiar size and shape, and that they portray two objects: a dirigible floating in clear sky and a detail of the cream soda. The graphic design of the page brings out the panels 7 and 14 that are indeed the opening and closing panel respectively and share not only the shape but even the presence of the window’s reticular pattern. The importance of those two panels, already underlined by the page structure, is confirmed by the fact that they are employed to dramatically portray the climax of the story in question.

As already mentioned, the first panel presents a feature of the coffee-shop’s window with a patch of the sky and a dirigible floating in the sky.

This image comes with the boy’s question: “why has mommy gone away”? The question clarifies the relationship between the three characters, two already visible and one absent: they are a family. Obviously the reader could have already gathered this information from the familiarity between the man and the boy, emphasized in the previous panels, but only with this panel this suspicion becomes a known fact. Another important piece of information is that the mother is a very busy woman and that she left the family; probably a recent or unexpected development hence the boy’s question to the father: “why has mommy gone away?”

Apparently, there is in this panel a random juxtaposition between the question, which is very important for the comprehension of the story, and the plain view of the background.

And yet the panel’s strength comes from the distance between the text and the image: the clear sky and the commercial dirigible build a banal and plain setting compared to which the question, so private and painful, stands up even more.

In this second page the private sphere of the characters become predominant: the boy’s question in the panel 7 is personal and direct and it doesn’t appear to be only a request for clarification or the expression of an inner turmoil but also some form of “j’accuse” towards the father. This confirms the antagonistic relationship of father/son, hinted at in the first page: on one side the boy shows a pragmatic point of view that refuses the elusive and deceiving answers of the adult, on the opposite side we find the father with his hopeful and naive behaviour; it seems here that the traditional family roles are reversed. The father’s answer, stretched between the panel numbers 8 and 9 of this second page, points out once again his dullness through a comparison with the talented mother (“Mommy is exceptionally talented, she is not like daddy. Many people require her talent. Mommy is a very required person”).

This apparently hard admission from the father doesn’t change his facial expression: he keeps on smiling. From his part the boy keeps on staring impassively outside the window, apparently untouched by the man’s answer. It is clear, as in the previous panels that the connection between words and images is set to strengthen the characterization of father and son: the fixed smile on the father’s face matches his purposely naive words, while the boy’s stoic face and his stiff body language match his disillusioned words and his silences.

At this point we come across the second panel “highlighted” by the peculiar graphic structure of the page. We are talking about the panel number 10 which is different in shape from all the others, even though it shows some similarity with the panels 7 and 14. Interestingly enough, in this panel we find again the glass of cream soda and the abstract design of the window’s grid.

The opposition between the realistic representation of the glass and the abstract background sets an instant connection with the title-panel from the first page. This particular type of background cuts off the glass from any real context and brings it out. At this point it’s clear that the glass of cream soda isn’t a banal object but it plays a main role in the development of the story. The panel’s position in the page and its graphic design, what with its peculiar shape and dimension and its abstract background, are all clues given to the reader about the importance of the glass of cream soda. Although the graphic structure of the page has already established the panel’s relevance, it’s only thanks to the verbal insertion that we have the first key to understand the cream soda role in the story. As a matter of fact, the balloon remarks that the boy’s drink has not been consumed yet, even though a good amount of time has passed and we are informed the boy does actually love this specific drink (“What’s the matter? I thought you liked cream soda”).

The panel numbers 11 and 12 are linked to each other through the boy’s answer which starts in the first panel and finishes in the second; the suspension points advert the necessity of fast-reading those two panels together (“It’s not that I like cream soda in itself…I like cream soda when I’m with mommy and daddy”). From a visual point of view the two panels are focused on father and son respectively: the first is a child’s close-up while in the second, even if the two characters are equally present, the adult is clearly visible while it’s possible to see only the boy’s hair.

The two connected panels seem to emphasize the expressive opposition between the two characters: the boy’s close up shows the child who is looking out of the window with a serious face while the medium shot shows the man who is looking ahead with a smiling face. The comment expressed by the father makes this opposition even more explicit (“it’s not fair for an adult to be forced to hear a remark like this”).

Looking at the entire page it’s possible to observe that the panels 11 and 12 are the mirror images of the panels 8 and 9. Each couple is composed by a vertical panel with a close-up of one of the characters and a horizontal panel with a medium shot of the two characters together; the panel layout however is reversed.

In the first couple, from panel 8, a general image where the attention is on both characters, the attention shifts to panel 9, where only the father’s figure is visible. Meanwhile, in the other couple, the framing of the panels shifts from a close up of the boy to a wider image of the two characters, even though in panel 12 only the father is completely visible.

In panel 12 the wider frame’s cut is functional to focus the attention on the father’s reaction to the son’s question.

Although his face remains calm, the adult’s comment shows all the uneasiness caused by the boy’s words. The sentence “it’s not fair for an adult to be forced to hear a remark like this”, shows the father’s inner turmoil and emphasizes his unsatisfactory attitude about the situation: his words are in contrast with his smiling face and because of that, they stand out more. It seems that this character, condemned to wear a “fixed” expression or even more accurately a “banal” mask, can express himself only through his words.

To a closer observation, it appears clear that there is a basic difference between the two pairs of panels: in the first couple, the father’s attitude and his words seems to go according to the earlier narrative flow where the father role’s is to play down the seriousness of the boy’s words and feelings. In the second pair of panels something changes and the father seems to be a little upset: the boy’s words “bang on target”.

The panel 13 is apparently pointless for the development of the story but from a narrative point of view is quite important since it marks the passing time. It is a horizontal panel where we can see a television sitting on a shelf and a cabinet filled with cups and jars; those items usually are in a coffee bar.

On a figurative level, the panel doesn’t show any peculiarity besides the fact that there isn’t any image in the TV screen; maybe the explanation is that the screen is hit by the light coming from the window and so it appears “blank”. The words in the panel confirm that the television is on and functioning. On the right side, the spiked balloon usually associated to radio or television speakers, informs us about the progress of a baseball match: “Fourth ball! Finally Sakka high school moves one runner”. On the left side we can see the onomatopoeia “waaaah” representing a crowd’s shout.

This panel, as previously said, focuses the attention on the time passing by. The text inserted inside the spiked balloon is indeed crucial to define the panel duration: the movement of a player from the Sakka high school team, must take some time to be completed and thanks to this notion the reader is aware of the fact that some time has passed since the father made his comment in the panel number 12. It is also the graphic design of the panel which suggests its duration: Bonetti (2001) states how, on a general note, the more space a panel occupies in the stripes, following the expected reading order, the more time it is supposed to occupy in the space of the story.

It is not with a special surprise then that in the panel 14 we find out that the cream soda has consistently melted since the last time we’ve seen the glass.

Panel 13 (page 2)

With special regard to panel 14, it must be remarked that the two symbolic objects introduced in the title-panel are here re-introduced with the same disposition but a crucial element of distinction: the cream soda has melted. As we have learned from panel 12 the cream soda is a reminder of the happy moments the family have shared in the past, and that’s why to the child it makes no sense eating the cream soda if the mother is not present. The image of the melting cream soda, then, is a concrete representation of the loosing of the family ties.

Third page: the time for waiting is over

In the third page we recognize once again the four strips format, however, the page shows a more dynamic structure than the previous ones. Three large graphic onomatopoeia, “waaah”, “skreek” and “tling”, break the format and the organization of the individual strips is irregular, as shown by the second strip, occupied by a single panel strongly flattened, and the third in which the height and size of the panels is different.

This third page is in fact characterized by an alternating rhythm: slow in panels 15 and 16, fast between panel 17 and 19, almost still in panel 20 and back to normal in panels 21 And 22.

The acceleration of the pace in the central strip and its sudden crash in panel 20 helps to emphasize the importance of the latter: after a rapid passage, the reader’s eye hangs on panel number 20. The visual impression is that something unexpected, a disruption, has occurred in the natural rhythm of everyday life. The analysis of the panels confirms this visual impression conveyed by the page layout.

The first panel is graphically homogeneous to panel 8 and 12 of the previous page, but it introduces an important change on the figurative level: the father's expression changes, it becomes tense and serious

.

This opening panel confirms the plausibility of the interpretation of the cream soda as a symbol of the family union and happiness: now that the cream soda has melted there’s no sense in waiting as underlined by the son’s word “let’s go home daddy”.

The father's words refuse to acknowledge the wait has become useless, as they try to find some excuse to keep his son waiting: “wait...until the end of this attack phase”. Yet for the first time the expression on his face betrays a tension, an uncertainty that perhaps up to now had been repressed. For his part, the child loses his rigid posture and expression and his face relaxes into a hint of a smile, the decision to end the wait corresponds to a decrease in tension which takes the form of relaxation.

Panel 16, which is similar to panel 13, marks the end of the waiting time: through an unexpected action, as it is indicated by the exclamation of surprise of the reporter, the attack phase of the high school Sakka is suddenly ended.

As the previous one, this panel serves the function of signaling that time is passing by and that when we’ll reach the following panel we’ll be in a different temporal dimension. The trick that the father has chosen to make his son wait some more is dissolved: the attack has unexpectedly concluded in a short time, everything that gave meaning to the waiting has been "dissolved" just like the cream soda.

Panel 17, long and narrow, is radically different in shape and size from the first two panels and it changes the pace of the graphical rhythm, together with the narrative rhythm. Inside the panel we see a detail of the front wheel of a car that, as suggested by the graphics onomatopoeia

superimposed on the image, stops with a squeal of brakes.

While the previous panels conveyed a certain stillness, this panel signals the entry of the movement: the shape of the panel helps to emphasize the direction and speed of the movement of the car.

Through a series of sounds related to each other, the two noises, and immediately following the greeting of the maid, we are quickly carried inside the coffee shop. The lack of a connecting panel between the nailing machine and the entry of a woman in the coffee shop suggests that a really short time has passed.

As anticipated, panel 18 introduces a new female character who, we are immediately led to believe, is the long waited mother.

In order to make the recognition as easy as possible, Adachi resorts to use in the characterization of the woman all the elements that had been used to describe the figure of the mother. Through the previous dialogues the mother was characterized as a committed and talented women, the hairstyle and clothing are elegant but sober and they recall the prototype of a career woman, while the dark glasses are getting back at the typical star attitude, in fact, the reader doesn’t know what kind of work the mother is doing, but he knows that she has an “exceptional talent”. The father had also remarked that the mother was going to bring a present for her son and in fact we can see that the woman in question is holding a package. The final confirmation of the identity of the woman comes from the following panel that represents the corner table where the father and son were sitting moments ago: the fact that the woman’s gaze immediately searches for the presence of the two characters inside the coffee shop is indicative of her role in the story.

Panel 19 introduces the first surprise element of the story. Through the fast montage of panels Adachi has lead us to believe that the mother has arrived right on time to catch the ex-husband and son inside the coffee shop. The juxtaposition of panel 16 and 17 so as the absence of a panel which shows the two male characters getting out of the coffee shop seem indeed indications that a short time has passed between panel 15 and 18. If one should judge by the previous clues given by the author, though, it is clear that in Adachi’s language the spatial proximity of two panels isn’t of any indication of their proximity in time: in the previous page for instance between panel 13 and 14 a lot of time had passed, as remarked by the melted cream soda in the last panel. As shown by panel 19, in fact, father and son have left the coffee shop and this proves that a good amount of time has passed between panel 16 and 18.

Panel 20 shows us the reaction of the mother in front of the result of her delay. It has already been mentioned that this panel represents a moment of stillness with special regard to the fast rhythm imposed by the previous panels of the same page.

In order to represent the stillness of the image, which is still per se, Adachi uses a series of graphic tools drawn from the basic manga language: he uses a vertical shape for the panel, posing it “out of time”; he chooses a shot, so narrow that the gaze doesn’t have the chance to move in search for clues regarding the temporal extension of the image; he inserts an abstract background which makes the reader focus solely on the female figure, suspending her in a surreal context.

The decisive moment, Adachi seems to suggest, is out of time and it can’t be measured: how much time must pass before the woman will be able to realize the consequences of her delay? What kind of thoughts are crossing her mind while she is looking to the empty corner of the coffee shop? Through a panel which is “void” and timeless, Adachi doesn’t give any real answer, but still conveys the emotion and weight of all the potential answers we may think of.

With panel 21 the graphic and narrative rhythm come back to their natural pace. The waitress with her banal remark (“ah…I will immediately clear the table for you”) cut off the mother’s and the reader’s thoughts. Take note of the fact that both the female characters show their back to the camera shot so that the expression of the mother is masked while she is answering to the waitress (“Don’t worry about it”).

Through this panel Adachi shows once again how it is impossibile for someone who isn’t “engaged” in the story to understand the complex relationships involving the characters and the depth of their emotions.

Panel 22 portrays once again the glass of cream soda definitively melted.

What’s important in this case is the juxtaposition of the sentence “It’s good as it is” to the image of the melted cream soda: it is thanks to this connection that the mother’s words gain a painful meaning, they seem in fact to express the awareness that the occasion to repair an important relationship is gone. It would be useless to clean the table, since the sorrow and the regret for the lost opportunity will remain.

The reader knows by now the symbolic meaning of the cream soda’s glass and Adachi, through the last two panels, suggests that the mother must know well the meaning of that particular object too.

Panel 22 marks also the shift from an objective shot of the glass of cream soda to a more subjective one: the shot angle as much as her comment suggests in fact, that the cream soda is now seen through her eyes. This technical tool serves the function of remarking the raised consciousness of the woman who, between all the possible objects, chooses to stop and look at the melted cream soda: it is indeed this object which is a concrete signal of the presence of her son in the coffee shop but at the same time a representation of his obvious delusion.

In Adachi’s manga objects acquire value because the characters project on them their emotions and expectations: the recurring image of the “empty” window becomes a symbol of the frustrated expectations of the child while the cream soda slowly melting inside the glass represents the dashed hopes of the characters.

Fourth page: the most important thing

In the last page the typical four strips format is broken by the last two panels that appear different in size and shape with respect to the others. The reader is under the impression that these two panels are stranger to the graphical design of the page. It’s always at the bottom of the page that we find two other panels that are brought out by the layout, panel 28 and 29. Apart from the graphic design, what makes those panels stand out is the total absence of text with respect to the large amount of balloons that are covering up the other panels. In summary the page appears to be divided in two parts, just like in the case of the first page, even though here the most important part is at the bottom and not at the top of the page.

The last page opens up to the image of the mother sitting at the same table that was earlier occupied by her family.

The posture of the woman is extremely stiff, and is a sudden reminder of the posture of the child at his first apparition, while her insistence in not looking out of the window and the fact she is “hiding” behind dark glasses both establish a direct connection with the man’s attitude. The shot lets us see the window at its full display but interestingly enough, it is still impossible to see what’s on the outside: once again there’s no sense in looking outside when one knows that no one important is going to come. The perplexed gaze of the waitress is a concrete representation of the woman loneliness: she can’t share her inner emotions and a stranger cannot understand the real meaning of her words nor the importance of apparently banal objects such as a glass of melted cream soda. Take note of how the panel remarks the silence of the scene by inserting a balloon without any word in it: the words are not absent but blocked.

With panel 24 a new character makes its appearance. Using a conventional “symbolia” (white shirt, goggled eyes and protruding teeth) Adachi characterizes the newcomer as the private assistant of the woman, as clarified also by the fact he is keeping for the woman (“Madam, it’s time to go”). This character serves the same function of the baseball commentary: it underlines the fact that a good amount of time has passed between the end of the third page and the beginning of the fourth.

The unexpected answer of the mother, as expressed in panel 25 (“I’m sorry but you can cancel all my appointments for today”), and the insistence of the assistant for her to respect her work duties (“Oh! But…in a few minutes you have an important appointment”) reminds us at once of the role of the mother as a career woman and therefore makes her choice to change her priorities even more crucial to the story development.

Panel 26 is once again a detail of the glass of cream soda. The abstract background reminds us of the title-panel while the shot’s angle and the horizontal shape connect this panel to the tenth panel of the second page.

In this case, though, the text is absent from the panel and the glass content has completely melted: a concrete visualization of the fact that nothing can be said or done to repair the broken relationship.

This is made explicit in panel 27 as the mother states that she has already “broken the most important promise”. The sentence is apparently an answer to the insistence of the assistant but, as in the case of the answer given to the waitress, even in this case the words spoken by the woman serves the function of commenting on the painful situation which is a result of her actions. Once again the mother’s words isolate her from the rest of the world, since the emotions behind them are inexplicable.

With panels 28 and 29 there is a change of pace in the rhythm of the story: the order of reading shifts from horizontal to vertical and the small size of the panels, together with the absence of words, compel us to rapidly lower our gaze towards the last panel.

Panel 29 is indeed only a closer shot of panel 28: a key ring abandoned at the mother’s feet. The fact is that, thanks to the second panel of the sequence we can see that this is not just a key ring like any other: the picture inserted in it represents the family we have come to know in a moment of happiness. That we are talking about a happiness which has declined in the past tense obviously results from the small differences in the mother’s appearance: she is younger and shows a more ordinary look, also she didn’t put any makeup on, despite the fact she knew a picture was going to be taken.

It must be remarked that the attribution of the key ring, which of course belongs to a member of the family, is ambiguous: the object could have been forgotten or left by the father or by the son, but it could also belong to the mother. The only way to correctly interpret the object and its meaning is to go back in search of clues.

If we take a look at panel 19 in the third page we can see a good portion of the coffee shop and specifically the corner where the father and son have been sitting. Observing the image with a certain attention we can recognize the shape of the

Panels 28 and 29 (Page 4)

Detail of Panel 19 (Page 3)

keyring under the empty table: the object is lying at the table’s feet under the chair where the father was sitting.

We are able to see the key ring only because we are attentively looking for it. It’s clear at this point that the object has been abandoned by the father and that the mother probably hadn’t even registered its presence under the table. The only fact that the key ring is lying under the table is an indication of the fact it is deprived of its proper function, holding keys, just like the cream soda, which had been left melting in the glass and therefore had become undrinkable.

The refusal to let the objects perform their proper function is also an indication of the fact that they have a secondary and more important function, a symbolic one: both the key ring and the cream soda represent in this case the past happiness they were a part of. The betrayal from the mother, who broke the most important promise, has deprived the two objects of their symbolic function too: there’s no sense in drinking the cream soda without the mother nor in carrying along a key ring which portrays a family that doesn’t exist anymore.

Interestingly enough, the only verbal insertion which is present in the two panels is the onomatopoeia “waaah” that we have learned to know as the representation of a surprised shout from a crowd of spectators (panel 13, page 2; panel 24, page 3). The most immediate reading leads to interpret the sound effect as a simple background noise: while the woman is reflecting on her broken family, life goes on around her, as symbolized by the on-going baseball game. This interpretation is in tone with the exchanges the woman had with the waitress and with her assistant: her sense of loneliness and her emotions are invisible to others. As we’ll see better later, a second level of reading is possible for this panel but its activation is not a given.

From a narrative point of view, panel 29 ends the story and this is confirmed by the fact that, if we look at the last two panels we can recognize they are a prologue to the story and not its conclusion.

Panels 30 and 31 are outdoor location shots: a detail of the clear sky and the outside entrance of the coffee shop.

Panel 31 Panel 30

The only time we are allowed to see the outside is in the second panel of the first page while for the whole story the exterior is never visible. It must also be remarked that even on this occasion we are not outdoors, but we are looking out from the inside and that’s why we can interpret the last two panels as a prologue to the story.

Another indication of the plausibility of this interpretation comes from the text inserted in the images: a question and answer sequence is broken down into three balloons:

balloon 1 (son): “What if she doesn’t come, daddy?” balloon 2 (dad): “Don’t worry…”

balloon 3 (dad): “We’re going to meet her inside that coffee shop, you’ll see”.

It is obvious at this point that this isn’t the ending but the beginning of the story since we know that the father and son have already left the coffee shop and that the mother hadn’t arrive on time to meet them. In order to make sense of this anomaly, the reader must interpret this dialogue as preceding all of the others. The author’s choice of positioning the prologue at the end of the story project on it a sense of melancholy: the reader knows very well that the father words will be proved wrong.

It seems also that Adachi isn’t really concerned with capturing reality from a graphical point of view, as much as he is concerned with moving the reader’s eye around the page in the way he wishes it to move.

From a graphical point of view, this dialogue shows the reader once and for all that Cream Soda has a specific rhythm to how Adachi set up the panels and the dialogue inside them. Two beats in the first panel followed by a pause and then the final beat in the second panel. This repetition shows that Adachi is well aware of the sound and feel of how the narration is broken down for the panels. The decision of how to arrange the panels in the page and the choice of how to structure the sentences inside the panels create a rhythm which is inherent to the story and affect how the viewer reads the strip. The fact that this unheard rhythm seems so important to Adachi shows the reader how conscious and self-reflective this author is and this recognition leads to a second level reading where the reader accepts to play the authors game.

Cream Soda style

The rhythm of everyday life

Through a series of technical choices, Adachi guides his readers toward a specific interpretation of the story and gives to it a specific rhythm and taste.

In this story, silence, still moments and objects are important as much as words, actions and characters. Therefore details are essential to the construction of this story, as shown by the graphic design of the page, organized around small and reduced panels that induce the reader to give the right amount of attention to small gestures and details.

When comparing the structure of different pages, the fact that the graphic and narrative style used by the author to design his story are directly connected to its contents and messages, become more evident than ever. In the first two pages the narrative rhythm is slow and one could say that nothing really happens here: the panels are quite similar to one another and the dialogues are the only element of distinction between the recurring images, even though one could observe that even the different dialogues are slight variations of the same exchange. Using a slow pace and focusing on static moments, Adachi gives us a taste of everyday life: a father and his son are sitting at a table inside a coffee shop, waiting for someone to come, while an on-going baseball game can be heard in the background. The white page collects emotions more than actions and the plot is indeed developed on an emotional level: the repetition and juxtaposition of similar images make the reader discover the emotional contrast between father and son, the symbolic value of objects and the existing relationships between the characters.

This insight on everyday life, as told in the first two pages, isn’t the end of the story though: what is static and still, is valuable not only in itself but also because it can be interrupted and put

accelerates, pushed by the strength of a crucial event, and then stops altogether in the last panel. The moments of stillness, then, acquire a new value when they collect the results of a decisive choice or event which is able to break the natural slow rhythm of everyday life and let the hidden emotions run free.

From a verbal point of view it must be noted that the words appear only inside balloons: in this manga the narrative captions are absent. Pellitteri (1998, 93) states that narrative captions are used inside modern comics both to express the characters’ emotions and to underline the time or space shifts. From a visual point of view narrative captions differ from balloons for their rectangular shape and because of the fact that they do not point out to any character in particular. Given the absence of narrative captions, in this manga the change of emotions and time must be expressed in alternative ways. Adachi uses the image of the melting cream soda and the baseball commentary, playing on the background, underlining the time passing by. Characters’ emotions are instead visualized by three symbolic objects: the cream soda, the window looking on the outside and the key ring.

Moreover, we’ve seen as in this manga, objects can be considered as characters of the story and this is remarked by the fact that images of empty spaces and still lifes are so frequently inserted inside the panels.

What we have referred to as empty spaces, are places missing their usual inhabitants, (panel 19 / page 3), outside locations without any character (panel 31 / page 4) or natural landscapes (panel 7 / page 2 and panel 30 / page 4). In the story the value of those empty spaces is in the fact itself, that they are deprived of their expected inhabitants: the sense of sadness conveyed by the table without any customers sitting at it and the sense of deluded hope passed on by the coffee shop’s door which remains closed, despite the long waiting for someone to enter it, both depend on the fact that those spaces could have been filled with people and could have been settings of important events but instead they remain empty and still. The clear sky communicates a sense of anguish because its clearness is so far away from the emotional state of the characters that are observing it. Adachi’s panels appear empty because there are no characters or events moving inside them, but it is through this absence that they tell us an emotional story.

Still lifes are instead defined by the presence and composition of the objects they collect. It is only when the characters or the reader look at them that they acquire a value for themselves. Characters and readers must watch and feel the things that inhabit the places in order for the emotion and sense to emerge from them. If the glass of cream soda, left melting on the table, becomes the symbol of a broken family, it is only because the reader looks at it through the

characters’ eyes. When the waitress observes the same glass it fails to communicate this same emotion: the glass comes back to its object status.

Given the fact that the value of an empty space relies on the absence of a possible content, while the value of a still life relies on the objects it is composed of, it must be remarked that the value we are talking about is not integral to them but it is assigned by the gaze of both the characters and the readers.

One could say then, that in this short story Adachi gives meaning and soul to objects and spaces profiting from the power of his characters’ and the readers’ gaze. 3. Reading once more with feeling

The comic’s reader isn’t required to finish the text in a given amount of time, he can therefore stop the reading, flip the pages backward and forward in search of explanations, spoilers, or details not immediately connected to the main plot. The author, for his part, can fill the panels with indexes, references, quotations that open the text to a possible second level of reading (Bonetti 2000).

Adachi puts this inner property of the comic language to good use in two ways: he hides in his panels a good number of clues and spoilers that, if followed by the reader, guide him to a better understanding of the story; he inserts quotes and references taken from other manga he has written and he therefore activates a channel of communication which works independently and in some cases despite the on-going narrative plot, connecting the author directly with his fan-readers.

Searching for hidden clues

In order to fully understand Adachi’s manga, a second reading is essential: this is the only way the reader can recognize and follow the clues and spoilers the author fills the text with.

Take for instance the key ring which seems to suddenly “appear” under the table, where the mother is sitting (panel 28, page 4). As previously stated it isn’t clear if the object in question should be connected to the mother or the father and this ambiguity brings the reader back to the beginning in search of interpretative clues. Thanks to this second reading, it can be discovered that the key ring was introduced in the panel 19 of the third page, before the mother has entered the coffee shop. Having established that the key ring is the property of the father, the reader is then guided to connect the object with the glass of cream soda: the mother’s betrayal, represented by her absence, pushed both father and son to leave behind two objects that have been previously identified as symbols of the once happy family; the discarded key ring and the melted cream soda

It must be noted that the reader is not compelled to follow this line of interpretation as he could indeed fail to see the key ring in the third page and remain convinced that the key ring belongs to the mother. Since this text is being written for a wide audience, and for the greatest number of readers possible, these inevitable differences in background, culture, and knowledge will lead to a number of different “readings” of this text even though the actual words and sentences remain the same for all readers.

“When a text is produced not for a single addressee but for a community of readers – the author knows that he or she will be interpreted not according to his or her intentions but according to a complex strategy of interactions which also involve the readers, along with their competence in language as a social treasury” (Eco 1992, 67)

It’s true that Empirical Readers can read the same text in many ways, and it is impossible to predict with any certainty what the encyclopedia of any empirical reader will be like, how this text will fit within that encyclopedia, and the uses the encyclopedia will make of this text and the meanings it will take from it.

It’s also true, though, that a text is the result of a strategy the author put into action in order to guide his reader toward the most proper and correct interpretation of the text itself or, in other words, a text is a device conceived in order to produce its Model Reader. From this perspective:

“every act of reading is a difficult transaction between the competence of the reader (the reader’s world knowledge) and the kind of competence that a given text postulates in order to be read in an economic way” (Eco 1992, 68).

There are then alternative lines of interpretation that can be activated by the same text. In the case of Cream Soda, if we decide to believe that the key ring belongs to the mother, we also identify her as the one who lost any hope of finding happiness again. It seems though, judging from her refusal to leave the coffee shop and the consequent request of cancelling all her “important” appointments, that the mother has reached a new awareness: for once, family and emotions seem to be more important for her than career and success. As one can see this is a line of interpretation that is quite in contrast with the expected one.

Filling the text with clues and, as we’ll see better later on, with inside jokes, Adachi builds, through a precise textual strategy, his own Model Reader, defining him, from an intellectual point of view, as practiced in the comic’s language and possibly an expert of Adachi’s language, and requiring for him to use an emotional gaze in order to fully understand the meaning of things and spaces.

The “key ring story” is only one example of the general narrative strategy pursued by Adachi in this manga. Empty spaces and still lifes, the baseball commentary and the two final panels, an explicit invite to the reader to read again the story, are all parts of this same strategy. Reading between the lines: inside jokes

As previously said, it is through narrative and graphic tools that Adachi makes a first distinguishing point between an attentive reader and a superficial reader, opening up the text to different levels of interpretation, with special regard to the depth of the interpretation itself.

Adachi’s manga, though, is making a second distinguishing point between what can be called a fan reader and the average reader: some elements inserted in the text can be fully understood only by a reader who knows Adachi’s typical style and previous comics and therefore the model reader built by this comic in particular, is not only an attentive reader but also a fan reader.

The expression “inside jokes” is used here as an umbrella term to describe three kinds of textual strategies that, although different, all serve the objective of opening up a channel of communication between the author and his model reader.

Auto-quotation

The first kind of inside joke we can find in the text is the reference to another comic from the same author. If we go back to analyze the seventh panel of the second page, we can easily see a commercial dirigible in the sky.

Among all the panels where the window is represented, this is the only one where the reader can see what’s on the outside. It is indeed the juxtaposition with the other images of the window that guides the reader to observe this one with more attention: Adachi is pointing out something here and his model reader is required to look at it. With a little effort we can see that on the side of the dirigible there is a sign: H2.

Adachi’s fan reader immediately recognizes H2 as the title of one of the most famous manga written by the author. The inter-textual reference, once decoded, reveals itself in all its futility: is it really just for serving a commercial purpose that Adachi required us to look at this scene with so much attention?

This is clearly only one of the author’s purposes. Inserting the auto-promotion in a scene which is emotionally challenging, Adachi manages to keep the balance between drama and comedy. The author seems to remind his reader that this is only one of the many stories he has written and invites him to keep his distance from the content, because in the end this is just fiction. From another point of view, the fact that the image is completely disconnected from the main plot serves also the purpose of giving the words inside the balloon more importance.

Meta-narration

The second kind of inside joke is based on the introduction of panels that are apparently pointless, when talking about the plot development, but are essential to open up a reflection on the work of a manga author. Take for instance the panels where the baseball commentary appears.

The images of the television reporting from the baseball field don’t have just the function of signaling the time passing by, they are also a meta-narrative insertion from the author. Apparently the written text “Fourth ball! Sakka high school has finally moved a runner…” is talking about a baseball match. Though, if we focus on the name of the team, Sakka, we can discover that in Japanese this word means “author”. Once we have this information, we can give the same text a different reading: “the author has finally moved a runner (character)”. It is the clue that there was a development inside the story: in fact it is at this point that the recurring dialogue between father and son reaches breaking point. The runner moved by the author is then recognizable as the father, who seems to have lost the possibility to hide behind his glasses (appearances) and is compelled to give his opinion on the current situation. There is also another layer to this reading of the text: the player from Sakka high school didn’t move by his own volition but was moved as a consequence of the actions of the other team’s pitcher (after the fourth ball the hitter has to move onto the first base); in the same way the fathers final reaction is a direct consequence of his son’s “attacks”. The baseball commentary has clearly a deeper meaning than the superficial and most obvious one: as previously

told, the description of the baseball match serves the purpose of marking the time of the story, but on a second note it is also a tool used by the author to comment on his own narrative choices.

To make this point more clear let’s take a look at the second vignette dedicated to the baseball commentary (panel 16, page 3). Something completely unexpected has happened on the field and consequently inside the story, so that the natural narrative rhythm change to a faster pace.

In the previous scene (panel 15, page 3) we see the father trying to prolong the wait: the sentence “wait…until the end of this attack” is a clear strategy used by the adult to make the child wait a little bit longer. Keep in mind that in the context of a baseball match one attack phase can take a lot of time to be completed. Because of an unpredictable event, which is indeed rare but nevertheless possible according to the rule book (the ball is thrown back to the pitcher, passing through one of the inner players so that all the players of Sakka high school are eliminated), the attack phase is ended in a matter of seconds. From this moment on there is a change of pace in the narrative rhythm: the plot becomes faster and thicker thanks to the introduction of new events and characters.

In this case the secondary function of the baseball commentary is even more clear than before: the unpredictable event described in the rectangular balloon, suddenly putting an end to the attack phase of the match, indeed appears as a direct answer to the words spoken by the father in the previous scene, “wait until the end of this attack phase”.

The baseball commentary functions here as an ironic message sent from the author to his own character: the father has tried to take control of the story and its rhythm but the author’s intervention, represented by the television speaker voice, prevent him from doing so. This channel of communication (author-characters) is indeed a tool used by Adachi to make evident to the reader that nothing just “happens” in a fictional world because the presence of an author is required to build characters and to put things into action: through the baseball commentary Adachi remarks both the existence of an author behind the story and the power he has on the story itself since he plays the role of a deus ex machina. Even in this case then, the inside joke is used to establish a channel of communication between the author and his reader.

Another interesting example of a meta-narrative element inserted inside the story is recognizable in the graphic onomatopoeia “waah”, used to represent the crowd shouting aloud. For most part of the story this onomatopoeia functions as a simple background noise (panel 13 page 2; panel 16, page 3). If we look at the panel 29 on the fourth page, though, we get a different impression.

represented as coming from the television screen and its size is not correlated to the proximity of the listener to this object. In this panel the onomatopoeia “waaah” is not used to represent the surprise of the crowd in front of a sudden event but to give voice to the surprised reaction of the reader while discovering the existence of an important object he hadn’t seen before.

The appearance of an abandoned key ring, holding the portrait of the once happy family, is the final twist of the story and the “waaah” represents in some way the insertion of the model reader inside the text.

Actors on a white page

The third type of inside jokes consists of the characters suddenly showing an unexpected awarness of their fictional nature.

Panel 12 of the second page shows us the father commenting upon the condition he is in.

His gaze suddenly points to the “camera” or towards the reader. It’s the only occasion in which Adachi shows us the eyes of this character. The balloon connected with this image introduces a surreal effect, since it is a comment in the third person, usually inserted in narrative captions (“It isn’t a good thing for an adult to hear a sentence like this one”). For certain the comment isn’t directed to the child, whose face, not for chance, isn’t visible in this panel and it sounds more as a hidden thought of the father reflecting on his sons sentence but this wouldn’t acknowledge for the fact it is spoken aloud. We also have to take into account the way Adachi has structured the page in order to guide toward a correct or at least expected interpretation of its panels: the gaze turned toward the camera and therefore breaking the fourth wall, the smile remarking the ironic nature of the comment, the absence of an interlocutor apart from the reader.

It is based on those considerations that the reader is able to identify this panel as an inside joke: the character is aware of being part of a fictional story and opens up a channel of

communication with the reader of this same story. Interestingly, the character doesn’t play his role anymore but comments on it, giving a voice to the author. In this channel of communication (character/reader) the character obviously doesn’t speak for himself but is a tool used by the author to connect with his reader. Once again the inside joke has served the purpose of opening up a channel of communication between the author and his Model Reader.

As previously remarked the Empirical Reader could fail to activate this expected interpretation of the text and simply choose to ignore the “wrong note” introduced by this panel. Conclusion

Different layers for different readers

Disseminating his work with clues, spoilers, symbolic objects and inside jokes, Adachi invites his Model Reader not only to reread the text but also to read between the lines.

The analysis of the elements that this text brings together to create a coherent narrative, and those elements it will not, confirms that to properly understand Adachi’s manga we must agree to become his Model Reader and agree to play by the rules of his game. Take for instance the last two panels that, once recognized as the real beginning of the story, compel the reader to recognize the fictional nature of what he is reading and illuminate his function as co-author of the story. With this last inside joke Adachi invites us to become characters in the game of his text.

Obviously this reflection is based on a first level or narrative interpretation of the text because it is starting from this basic layer that all the other layers can be explored. This is also the reason why this paper provides a punctual examination of the single panels.

It must be remarked though that more often than expected the Empirical Reader doesn’t agree to become the Model Reader of the text: many panels open up to different levels of readings but the activation of the second or third level of reading is not a given. It’s also true that if one stops at a first level reading, the most obvious one, the text in question isn’t really fulfilled according to its author’s expectations: the reader’s high engagement with the text and how, as a result, he is able to better understand it, forms the heart of Adachi’s style and language.

As I have anticipated in the introduction, if read in this perspective, Cream Soda is not only a story of lost happiness but also a reflection on the language of manga.

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