This series made me genuinely curious if, in ‘real’ doctor/patient romantic relationships, the ‘patient’ continues to call his partner ‘Doc!’ during sex even after they’ve been together for years, like the couple in this book. I’m just wondering if it’s an anomaly. I would think that’s something you’d get out of your system relatively quickly if you date them long enough (and thus presumably care about them as a person enough) to call them by their actual name when balls deep in their asshole. Granted, when I fantasize about [entering serious judgment-free zone] General Hux from Star Wars, in my head I mostly call him by his title, but that’s a fantas- well…ok, maybe I answered my own question.
I’m not sure if Jazz was ever a super-popular yaoi series (if it ever had momentum it’s most likely because it was in the right place at the right time) but it’s certainly a widely circulated one, in that if you are new to the genre and discovering what’s out there you will probably come across this one sooner rather than later. It’s a four-part patient-x-doctor story that manages to overcome its flaws by the end – if the backwards seme/uke age dynamics don’t bother you that is, and gratuitous rape in the first two volumes notwithstanding (more on that later). The art is lovely to look at and the story runs the gamut of emotions from happiness to hopelessness, silliness to seriousness, and heartbreak to healing. Don’t tell me that alliteration didn’t excite you.
The story starts out like many yaoi plots from a big-picture standpoint (boy meets man, boy likes man, boy fucks man in the ass, etc.) but gets better with each volume, until by the third one I was hooked and just couldn’t put it down. Angsty yet sincere and heartfelt, this is one of those love stories that works without even having to be yaoi – and the internal waves that toss around Naoki and Narusawa are ones we have all experienced as humans. Actually, Maeda’s story is so relatable for anyone who has ever loved and lost that it might even trigger you towards the end. I almost did cry in some parts in these last two volumes, it got extremely emotional and very touching. It also had surprisingly little that felt like filler, which is commendable for a four-volume series that only really ever focuses on two characters. The dialogue, heavily introspective, was divided between both of them, which allowed you to get a better overall sense of their personalities and relationship without it being one-sided. This went a long way in keeping both characters interesting and dynamic.
Though the main characters can be a bit roughly drawn at times with same-y expressions, they are well-rounded and grew on me, along with Takamure’s wispy art style. The emotion was certainly there, and the characters felt alive and had real chemistry.
Naoki and Narusawa have an odd relationship, not in the least because it starts out with an alarming amount of rape, and both parties seem to be hunky-dory about this – it remains a thematic elephant in the room throughout. Plus if you read this blog you probably know by now how I feel about teens topping adults, but at least our seme Naoki is 18 and does get older in the story. Granted, that’s a technicality that makes it about as wholesome as those ‘barely legal’ porn sites, but whatever. Aaaaanyway – this story is comfortable with rape in a way that makes me, well, uncomfortable. There’s even a scene in vol. 2 where Naoki is so rough and angry in his anal assault (good grindcore band name) that Narusawa bleeds; idk call me close-minded but that’s always more abusive than hot. I mean, S&M is one thing – and if this couple had a healthier relationship, they’d probably enjoy that as they each have those tendencies – but when one guy rapes another until his ass bleeds it isn’t something I really find uncontrollably steamy (though I am sure that some people out there do). Yet, I felt the purpose of some of those scenes was not to be sexy – there were psychological undercurrents swirling in this series anchored around choices and control that drove the plot. It showed their relationship without an Instagram filter, the good and the bad, and doesn’t pass judgment on why they may act – or don’t act – a certain way.
Some people may see no difference between ‘non-con’ and ‘rape,’ – and admittedly at face-value there is none – but I typically perceive a semantic difference. To me, non-con has taken on a different flavor and connotation in fiction in which no one is ever really harmed, and has a roleplay-esque flavor in that it’s implied the victim is just play-acting (even if they’re not, they usually end up happy, in yaoi anyway. Machiavelli would be proud). Rape has the complete opposite connotation, a criminal and dangerous one – it’s real, and affects real people in the real world. These differences are purely my own opinion, of course, and perhaps I’m just full of shit (likely). To me, if a uke doesn’t mention it from his point of view and ends up happy with his partner in the end, it’s hard to be offended (even if you’re like, ‘huh, I didn’t know you could make someone fall in love with you by just forcing yourself on them until they change their mind!’). But when a character outright describes an action as ‘rape,’ I feel like there is a tonal shift. It crosses over to reality, one in which the words ‘sexy’ and ‘playful’ do not belong. Not as if they’re going to call it non-con, but actually naming it and calling it ‘rape’ is different – it kind of leaves any traces of harmless play behind. This is purely my own opinion but there is some lively discourse out there about this topic if you’re interested.
Anyway, other than that, the first two volumes unfold in a pretty standard way for yaoi. There was one amusing part where Naoki follows Narusawa to America on a research fellowship, and they do things like go to New Orleans (to see Jazz music of course!), and give us some valuable insight into how Japan might view America:
…and also rub cantalopes like this (not innuendo), presumably after smoking some serious jazz cabbage
The writing was definitely all over the place (especially in the first two volumes), but it worked itself out in the end. I got the sense reading the Afterword that Maeda and Takamure had some disagreements in how to tell the story, which may account for this. But overall I think they hit their stride and pulled it off.
There is a tonal shift that starts in volume 3 that carries to the ending. The conflict heats up plot-wise, with Naoki’s father meddling in their relationship and trying to force them to break up. Which is honestly, like, surprisingly rare in yaoi. I mean, we know that these stories mostly exists in fantasy land (and gay marriage isn’t even legal in Japan, for starters), but I like when stories bring in something akin to real-world implications of the characters’ choices like this. It makes things feel more real and more serious. And whether it’s East or West, tolerance towards real homosexual relationships in the real world is often polarized – progress is definitely being made in that regard, but it’s nothing like the all-inclusive environment usually portrayed in yaoi. Volume 3 was my favorite by far, and as it progressed it started to be a real tear-jerker. If you’ve ever gone through a breakup with someone you really cared about before, this volume takes a sharp arrow, winds it back ever so slowly, and embeds it directly in the corresponding scar on your heart with the force and efficiency of a pissed off Cupid. A reverse Cupid? Probably just an emo Cupid with skinny jeans and a comb-over.
By volume 4, shit is real. Nakamure’s dad is doing everything in his power to keep him away from his love doctor (*badum tisch*) and Naoki’s boss arranges a marriage interview for him with his daughter. I don’t think I’ve ever rooted for an imaginary couple quite this hard. I burned through this volume in one sitting and it had my heart pounding.
That’s all I can really say without spoiling the last volume too much. Oh, wait, no, one more thing – they fuck against a tree at one point. Which seems like one of those things where the fantasy is much better than the reality, like sex on the beach (sandy vagina, anyone?). Anal sex against a wall is probably already kind of tricky angle-wise, and getting your back scraped against bark with a dick in your ass seems like sex on hard mode. Like, why bother, just lay in the grass.
But wait, there’s more! There’s also this extra story at the end where Naoki is a buddhist monk pig doctor (yes really).
I like this mangaka’s art style, it has kind of a wispy/romantic feel. I have more of her books, although this is the first one I’ve read. One thing I noticed though was that she incorporates blushing into every facial expression. I guess there’s nothing wrong with this – just something that’s part of her style – but I couldn’t stop noticing it, which made it feel a bit overdone to me.
(TL;DR) Jazz is a bittersweet tale that transcends yaoi tropes to become a universal story of love and loss, which is extremely impressive considering that it started out with a by-the-numbers plot and a lot of rape, so be aware if noncon bothers you – but when the all-over-the-place-writing eventually nails the sweet spot, the hovering needle on the rating scale shot up pretty fast for me. Everything clicks in the second half and the gamut of emotion begins to be gut-punching by the end; I literally almost cried in a few parts. If you’re on the fence about it after the first two volumes, stick with it, the tonal and writing shift in the second half of the series more than redeems this very touching four part series.