Title: Blue Giant
Author:
Ishizuka Shinichi
Rating: 6/5
Literary
Level: intermediate
Written between 2013 and 2016 by
Ishizuka Shinichi. With a Tenor Sax, gifted by his big brother, Miyamoto Dai
dreams and strives to be the best sax player in the world. At fourteen, Dai
learns the beauty of music and by chance Jazz and makes it his goal to play as
much jazz as he can while enjoying the most of it. Three years of self-taught
and listening to the greats, like John Coltrane and Sonny Rollins, it got him
the attention of a Berkley master who saw potential in him and wanted to teach
him real music. After graduation Dai moves to Tokyo, from Sendai, in order to
take the step of playing Jazz. Through trials and tribulations he makes it to
the best Jazz club with his friends Yukinori Sawabe (Piano) and Shunji Tamada
(Drums); the trio with a Je ne sais quoi. Spoilers: Unfortunately
they had to disband but Dai kept going up, glowing like a blue giant star
(hence the title).
I will first put on my feelings and
my bias before the review because this is a beautiful manga. Regardless of my
love of music and how he impersonate my younger self, if I went the same way he did,
this is truly one of my favorite manga. Much like Slam, this manga made me
rekindle my love for music, for playing, and especially for jazz again; that
passion I held when I was young. I admire the fact that this manga even exists
because it is difficult to translate music into a noiseless medium with the
express intent of making the readers feel the music through the story and the
shapes. I wish I had known of it sooner when I was younger and full of glee
for music. It makes you acknowledge your worth, your value, as a musician and
as a person. Dai is an interesting case of playing without knowing, the music
flows through him unnaturally, regardless of his understanding of the modes,
the chords, the notes, or the rhythm. There’s also the prospect of maturity and how
it relates to selecting formal work or something you truly love. The last ten
chapters give you that choking sensation of wanting to cry out of happiness
for them, tears welling up for every win they get.
That trembling sensation when you have given your all, blood, sweat, and
tears, to show someone your progress or your worth (even though you yourself
have already acknowledged it and have come to terms with it); the inescapable
shake and tingle of the fingers once the instrument is set down, your whole
body feels it; The heart beating as the adrenaline pumps and courses the veins
and the brain flashing instances of the one moment you felt alive in front of
strangers willing to hear your music, your solo; telling yourself you did it. I
love that feeling. I miss it. The acknowledgment of the crowd as they cheer
and clap, whistle and howl, pleading for an encore. Jazz is intense, and not
everyone may like it or understand it, but it is the life with which Dai thrives
and expresses himself to others, a raw range of emotions faster than a bullet
train and hotter than any star in the night sky. “I didn’t trust jazz…I didn’t
trust music enough.” “Thanks to you…I’ve started to love jazz again, at least a
little bit.”