
My Satisfied Marriage Manga Volumes 2-4 Evaluation
A story rarely works as well in all of its translations, but Akumi Agitogi’s My Happy Marriage is one exception. All three of these media—manga, anime, and light novels—bring something a little bit different to the table and let us focus on different aspects of the plot and the characters. These three manga volumes follow Miyo through her ups and downs as she’s starting to settle into her new life before events (and people) conspire to pull her down once more. Rito Kohsaka, the series artist, does a particularly good job of mirroring people’s emotional states through body language and physical appearance. The sequence of photos shows Miyo’s weight loss and weakness even before Arata and Kiyoka comment on them; this is especially evident if you read volumes three and four back-to-back. In instances where Arata transitions from an informal (or at least less formal) position to one that more clearly conveys his objective, we can also clearly observe changes in his attitude, or at least in what he wishes to represent, through variations in his posture, both seated and standing.
That’s definitely a benefit because Arata’s motivations play a significant role in volume four. Even if you are already aware of his true function from light novels or anime, he is still one of the more intriguing characters in the story at this stage. Even though Kohksaka omits his glasses, his body language and facial expressions convey his uncertain plans so well that they aren’t necessary to highlight them. The artwork also does a great job of conveying Kiyoka’s discomfort without actually explaining why. Arata seems extremely near to boiling over, and it’s impressive and tense to see the other characters almost ignore the warning signals because they’re too busy worrying about other things. There’s something subtly unsettling about him. Volume four stands out as particularly good because it depicts this at the same time as Kiyoka’s employment troubles are growing and Miyo is clearly declining.
Luckily, each of the three volumes is excellent. The kidnapping plot is covered in volumes two and three, and readers of anime will notice a distinct change in Koji’s (Miyo’s former suitor and childhood buddy) portrayal. In previous iterations of the story, Koji comes out as merely too mild-mannered for action, but in this one, his original plans to “save” Both he and Miyo discuss his despair and desperation, but they also demonstrate how, similar to Miyo, he has been humiliated by his family and made to feel unimportant. Since Lord Tatsuishi is clearly the antagonist in this storyline, it helps us understand how Koji was raised and how his father’s overwhelming goals may have led him to make decisions that were almost deadly. Though it’s evident that Koji wouldn’t have made a good match for Miyo—despite the fact that they probably would have gotten along well enough—he’s a sadder character than he first appears, and it’s difficult not to feel bad for him. He resembles a male Cinderella character, an Ashlad, but without any heroes in sight.
These books raise intriguing questions about the concept of “fairy tale endings.” In addition to Koji being stuck in an engagement he doesn’t desire, Hazuki is Kiyoka’s older sister. When Miyo asks Kiyoka for permission to study how to be a proper lady, Hazuki enters. She initially gives the impression that she is his complete opposite, something he fully concurs with. However, as time goes on, it becomes clear that Hazuki is a modern lady in more ways than one. She is divorced in addition to having bobbed hair and dressing in high fashion, which she does far more accurately than the anime. Hazuki still obviously feels the stigma associated with divorce, even though it had become much more common by the 1920s in much of the world—especially since she wasn’t the one who started it. She tells Miyo the story, and even though she loves her husband, it’s obvious that marriage wasn’t a good fit for her personality. He acknowledged this, and it seems that the secret to her happier life was to get a divorce rather than get married. However, Hazuki finds that interpretation to be too contemporary, particularly as it contradicts what is clearly effective for Miyo.
These publications make the argument that each person is free to be who they are, with their own needs and desires. This is part of what Miyo was denied as a child; in her stepmother’s attempt to diminish her, Miyo discovered that she was unworthy of anything, including the right to be herself and the basic needs of food and shelter, let alone gifts from her mother. She’s making an effort to get over that thinking, but the dreams we witness her experiencing are a testament to the psychological damage that hasn’t completely healed. Nobody can truly comprehend that. Arata is very much caught up in what he believes she deserves, despite Kiyoka’s best efforts to get over her reluctance. Although it’s better than what the Saimoris felt she deserved, Miyo herself is still not taken into consideration. Like Hazuki, Miyo won’t be content until her truths are acknowledged and respected, and until she is able to identify them for herself, no one else will be able to know what they are. Even at the conclusion of volume four, it still seems far off. Luckily, the plot is compelling enough that it doesn’t feel tedious to read through to the point where she does.