West End
Authors: Aoi, Futaba and Kurenai, Mitsuba
Published by: Biblos
Serialized in: BeXBoy Gold

Currently 4 volumes, still running. CDs available. No OAVs/movies as of this date.

~Reviewed by Nora

    Burning out? Getting tired of the run-of-the-mill? Need a new direction? Tired of smut tales with all-too-predictable plots? Tired of complicated plots with no smut? Want to think, without thinking?  Want your flying bodily fluids to actually exist for a reason? Like to see a little blood fly, too?

Then "West End" (WE) just might be for you. Not for the squeamish, this futuristic existential sex opera---the story abounds with rape, murder (up close and personal), abuse, angst, torture, shots of previously internal organs, melting people, genetic engineering run rampant, amputation, and all sorts of other lovely items. It comes with the territory, given the sci-fi series concept, but don't expect the sort of tender romance that appears in "Level C," another yaoi series created by the same authors. Whenever tender romance does appear in this series, it always has a darker side.

    "Dark" describes WE perfectly. Many years after the world has been blown to nuclear hell, the society that has arisen from the ashes is starkly stratified, borderline anarchic, and matter-of-factly violent.  Some semblance of society survives---the world seems to be composed now of a single, unattractive, sprawling city, with a few nice areas but mostly just seedy places and slums. Anyone with a half-developed sense of self-preservation goes armed; there is no law. Because so many people (particularly women, apparently) were killed in the war, a new species of artificial human was created to serve as a labor class. The "Demiuri," as they are called (more frequently abbreviated as "Demi"), do all of the dirty work of society, from the dangerous to the just plain undesirable---including serving the sexual needs of anyone who happens to want them. They're the perfect slaves and sex slaves---universally kawaii, universally submissive, and for the most part eager to please (helps that they all have a handy-dandy adaptation for their role: the self-lubricating anus). And disposable. A Demi's lot in life is generally sad; they're considered to be only a step above animals despite their obvious intelligence, and are regularly mistreated. They're kept in line by means of a simple, if disturbing, control: if they don't ingest a combination of drugs every day, they die. Horribly, but I won't go into the details.

Enter Tonami, an exceptionally pretty young Demi whom the reader first meets as he's being gang-screwed by three men and taunted that if he doesn't satisfy all of them, he won't get his pills for the day. Tonami performs to expectation, and thus the tone for the entire series is set. "West End" is Tonami's tale---the tale of a sensitive, emotional, self-aware slave in a society where anyone powerless, especially with such a gentle spirit, is pretty much doomed to misery. Most of the Demis are said to have no emotions, but Tonami is a clear exception, in part because he's a Castle Demi, a special high-quality type of Demi who was raised in comfort and privilege to become a consort of the wealthy (he was kidnapped by unsavory types, which is how he ended up living the sad life of a lower-class Demi). He is the lens through which the society of "West End" is seen, and it is him through whom the reader considers questions about the morality of slavery and the corruption of technological society--- questions that few other people, in "West End", seem to be asking.

    Especially not Kiri, the human who steals Tonami away from the factory that owns him at the beginning of the story. Kiri seems at first to be a typical young man of his world: vicious, sadistic, an expert with a knife, cold-hearted and exploitative, charming when he needs to be, crude and cruel when he doesn't. Yet there's something about him (cue music) that attracts Tonami from the very beginning. Could it be his eyes? Or could it be that Tonami senses the strange idealism in this hardened street-brawler, which even Kiri doesn't seem to understand?

    Kiri wants to go west. Even he doesn't seem to know why, but he's determined to get there, and he's too ruthless to let a little thing like morality get in his way. After spiriting Tonami away from the factory (to, Tonami innocently hopes, a better life), Kiri reveals his baser intent; he wanted Tonami for both his own sexual gratification and for easy cash, which he gets by prostituting Tonami and using the proceeds to finance their journey.

    Tonami, suffering and submissive traditional Japanese female allegory that he is, endures this and a whole host of worse trials, because he loves Kiri. And Kiri loves Tonami---quite against his will. The relationship between the two becomes extremely abusive at times, as Kiri attempts to prove to himself and to Tonami that he would never stoop low enough to love a Demi. He plays it off whenever he rescues Tonami from danger, occasionally even risking his life to do so; he's just "taking care of his property." Tonami doesn't know whether Kiri loves him or not, but he's determined to love Kiri anyway, in the hope that love will change his master. And so the co-dependence develops.

    All unpleasantness aside, what's really interesting about WE are the numerous mysteries that crop up as the series progresses. Kiri, we learn, is as extraordinary among humans as Tonami is among Demis, but the reader is given only tantalizing glimpses of his apparently traumatic and frightening past. Tonami is important enough that several mysterious and powerful figures are looking for him---for what purpose, and why he's so important, we don't know. And then there's the mystery of the Demiuri themselves. Do they have any hope of freedom? Why is Tonami so different from the rest? And just how Human are they?

    "West End" makes grand efforts at examining deep, complex themes involving society and the individual, love and sex, technology and morality, and the meaning of "humanity." Unfortunately, sometimes it goes way past "deep" and edges into just plain silly. I'm probably expecting too much logic from this series, but that's probably because I'm a Western science fiction fan and this is Japanese sci-fi---in other words, it looks great and is interesting, but it doesn't necessarily make sense to the Western-trained mind. For example: because most of the Demiuri look like pretty young boys, the reader is essentially presented with an entire race of weepy ukes. Are we to believe that in the shortage of women, every man on the planet became gay (and seme and shotacon, at that)? Nobody wanted female Demis, or human ukes? Nobody wants more manly, or older-looking, sex slaves? And why weren't bigger, stronger Demis developed for physical labor? How much work can a
98-pound weakling do?

    Okay, I know, I know, it's yaoi. It doesn't have to make sense, as long as it looks/feels good.
   

    But come on.

The complete lack of logic isn't the worst flaw in the series; the story's not over, so it may eventually start to make sense. Whether the art of WE looks good enough to make up for the story's confusion is a matter of personal taste; I found WE's art attractive and interesting, if disproportional and a bit stilted and stark---which fits the setting.   What I found most annoying about WE was that the extreme pathos of the Demiuri became frustrating after a while. They're almost constantly depicted as miserable and abused, which I assume is meant to make the reader pity their downtrodden plight---but the sheer magnetite of suffering that they endure is sometimes so horrific that one wonders why they don't just collectively commit suicide.

    It's an interesting sci-fi twist on the usual yaoi themes, with a surprising philosophical undercurrent. Make no mistake, however---this is yaoi. Somebody gets laid in every chapter, sometimes consensual, usually not, always graphically and taking up several pages. There are enough flying bodily fluids to cause a small flood. The Demis are borderline shota---most are supposed to be in their mid-teens, but some are younger; none are older. Every guy has a vaguely cylinder-shaped drippy thing between his legs. The Demis always cry (sometimes understandably). And the uke-as-allegorical-woman cliche gets done into
the ground. It's no wonder that the few women seen in the series don't seem to be in any particular demand, despite their rarity---who needs a real woman when you can have your very own submissive, pretty, self-lubricating, weepy, overly emotional, weak playmate/servant, who won't talk back?

    My recommendation: if you can handle nonconsensual sex (frequently), violence (lots), gore (buckets), and angst (many Kleenex), there's actually a story here that's worth reading. Particularly for the sci-fi or mystery fan. As for the romance fan---if you think Minami Ozaki's works are the most romantic thing since "Gone With The Wind," you'll dig Kiri and Tonami. PWP fans---ignore the plot; there's more than enough graphic sex to keep you happy. Budding psychoanalysts---Kiri and Tonami
are thesis material. Anyone looking for realism of plot, relationship or setting, or sweet and tender love scenes and theme... I think there's a little sweetness in Book 3, for a few pages. Otherwise, look elsewhere.