She Likes Gays, but Not Me Volume 2 Review
‘This is my final message.’ Mr. Fahrenheit
High-schooler Jun Andou is gay – but he hasn’t come out. He’s dating Sae Miura, a classmate who likes reading Boys’ Love, because he wants to have a ‘normal’ life and a girlfriend. He’s also in a secret relationship with Makoto-san, a married man old enough to be his father. Jun and Sae have gone on a short holiday together at a hot springs/seaside resort where Makoto just happens to be staying with his family. It’s there that Jun receives a devastating farewell text from his gay online friend ‘Mr. Fahrenheit’ whose boyfriend has recently died of AIDS. Shocked and upset, Jun runs to Makoto – only for Sae to discover them kissing.
The truth is out. Sae has realized for some time that Jun is struggling to come to terms with his sexuality, even if she hasn’t wanted to confront the truth. After many days have elapsed (and some prompting from Jun’s childhood friend Ryouhei) the two go into an empty classroom to discuss their failed relationship – only to be overheard by Onocchi, a boy in their class. Ono then outs Jun and starts to make his life hell by making homophobic comments whenever he can. Jun has already come close to falling in front of a train (he’s stopped by Ryouhei) and Ono’s persistent bullying is the last straw. The boys are changing for PE in an upper classroom; a window is open. Before Ryouhei can stop him, Jun goes to the open window and…
Given that She Likes Gays, but Not Me is based on a novel by the late Naoto Asahara, it’s inevitable that the manga has to compress too much material into too short a span, resulting in a somewhat exhausting sequence of harrowing events. This is not to denigrate the mangaka Akira Hirahara, who makes the characters come to life vividly on the page although the visual contrast between much older lover Makoto and Jun, who is drawn to look very young for a seventeen-year-old, makes it difficult to feel anything but extreme discomfort around the relationship.
However, the slowly emerging theme seems to be that Jun and Sae can still be good friends – even though a conventional heterosexual relationship (which Jun craves, perhaps because his own parents have divorced) is not going to work as he doesn’t feel sexually attracted to her. Sae wants to be his ally and to defend his right to be in a loving relationship – even if it’s not with her. Spoilers follow: Jun throws himself from the classroom window but survives (although he’s hospitalized for a month). He has a painful heart-to-heart with his mother in which he asks her why she gave birth to him, only then to break up with his father. This would be very harsh for any parent to listen to but to his mother’s credit, she hears him out and reassures him that she’ll always be there for him. She also says that he doesn’t have to return to that school and can go to Osaka to her family… if he’d like to.
The most notable insight to emerge from this volume (especially for students of BL fiction) occurs when Sae brings Jun a bag chockfull of BL paperbacks for him to read (all with age-gap relationships) while he’s in hospital. They then discuss the contents via texts – and even though it’s done with humour, Sae’s analysis is that the stories take place on ‘Planet BL’ and Jun’s realization (from her interpretation) is that BL must be science fiction, not fantasy. The question still bothering Jun (and originally posed by Mr. Fahrenheit) is: ‘If all life exists to reproduce and pass on our genes for our species’ survival… then why does an orientation like ours happen?’. On Planet BL, Sae argues, this isn’t a problem – but of course, in today’s world, it is far from unusual for gay couples to have children of their own.
While I don’t doubt for a moment that Naoto Asahara put a great deal of thought, feeling (and quite probably lived experience) into portraying young Jun’s struggles to come to terms with his homosexuality, I sense that the original novel incorporates a sideswipe at Boys’ Love as presenting a fantasy world unrelated to everyday life as a gay man in Japan. But the world of BL has moved with the times, so the issues here are not nearly so relevant as they might have been back in the day.
Sae later tells Jun that each class in school has now had a homeroom discussion about LGBT+ issues: “And not a single person came out and said homosexuality is abnormal.” This, of course, also leads Sae to realize that given the statistical likelihood of the percentage of gay people in the community, there could easily be more than one in their class. Whether this possibility will be developed – or not – in the third volume remains to be seen (although there’s definitely one other candidate!).
The translation for Yen Press is again in the very capable hands of Leighann Harvey and includes a helpful page of translation notes. The lettering by Rochelle Gancio works well, whether it’s Jun’s internal monologues or more complex scenes, involving texting as well as conversations. There’s also a colour page at the start of the volume.
Maybe this will all resolve itself in a positive and life-affirming way for Jun and Sae in the final volume (due out from Yen Press in November). But every time I open She Likes Gays, but Not Me, I find myself thinking of Our Dreams at Dusk (2015) by Yuhki Kamatami (Seven Seas) which also deals with a high school boy terrified of being outed at school but adds an inspired dash of magical realism (and which is rated Teen, making it accessible to teenaged readers).
Even though there are no trigger warnings in She Likes Gays, but Not Me, this second volume (of three) is Mature-rated and readers should be aware that it contains homophobic bullying and suicidal ideation.
Our review copy from Yen Press was supplied by Diamond Book Distributors UK.
