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Have you ever heard of Occam’s Razor? I’m sure you have, even if just in passing, but just in case, it means that the simplest explanation is usually the correct one. It’s a writing tool to help stories from being contrived and difficult to follow, and it’s especially useful in mysteries and detective fiction so your audience can solve the mysteries along with the characters.

The writers of Pretty Boy Detective Club didn’t seem to get the memo.

PBDC is one of the most baffling anime I’ve ever watched in my entire life. Not a single plot point in this makes any sense. I felt like I ... was being pranked the entire time I watched it. Like, am *I* the stupid one? Do you just need a very high IQ to understand the epic highs and lows of PBDC? It’s all random bullshit happening with no rhyme or reason with the show giggling to itself over how awesome and clever its plot twists are.

I won’t spoil anything because this show needs to be seen to be believed, but every “answer” raises so many more questions. The first arc alone leads to some questions like: why did Mayumi’s parents make her promise to give up her dreams if she couldn’t find one specific star amongst billions? Did they know what was really going on? Did they seriously think it would somehow prove her worthy? Did they think it was futile? Why does she have literal superpowers? Why is she expected to crossdress other than “you need to be a boy to join the club” despite the other members knowing she’s not actually a boy and never treating her like one? Why does the other lead also crossdress sometimes despite nobody telling him to do that? I sure hope you’re not expecting any answers!

A character can only be as smart as the person writing them, which means the characters don’t come off anywhere near as smart as they’re intended to. This is especially obvious when they start dropping their theories that make zero sense when you think about the mysteries they’re solving like a normal person.

Speaking of the characters, they’re… weird. They don’t have personalities, they have gimmicks. You have the student council president who they keep making loli jokes about (no they’re never funny), the quiet artist, the delinquent cook with a soft side, and the twelve year old child with sexy legs. The most interesting was the delinquent, but I have better options for shows if I really want to see that archetype. I feel zero attachment to any of these characters.

The two leads are even weirder. I don’t even know how to describe the girl, and the boy (who’s even younger than the rest of the middle school cast, for some reason) is one of the weirdest takes on a gentleman detective I’ve ever seen in my life. He just kind of says shit and you have to go along with it, because you’re watching Pretty Boy Detective Club and it runs on its own set of logic.

Speaking of its logic, the first and final mysteries are comically over the top and serious compared to everything in between–the tonal whiplash is insanely jarring. Because of this, they end up being some of the funniest, most entertaining episodes of TV I’ve ever seen because they’re just *so* over the top and silly.

On a different note, the backing tracks to a show aren’t usually something you directly notice. They either need to be exceptionally good or noticeably bad, and if you couldn’t tell, PBDC’s soundtrack (sans the actually pretty catchy OP) is bad. It sounds like stock music; everything is the most generic possible sounding song for its scene. A great example of this is the “detective” music they used in the second episode. Did you pull out the Kevin MacLeod playlist? I watched YouTube skits as a kid that exclusively used copyright free music that were less basic and obvious than this. It’s so generic it stops being generic and loops back around into hilarious.

This is one of the funniest shows I’ve watched in my entire life, and that’s the only thing keeping this from being a fully negative review. I’d imagine this would be a very, very fun drinking game if you’re into that sort of thing. Don’t watch this if you want a mystery or a show that is good, but *do* watch it if you want to try to follow the logic of a madman and have a laugh. This is a perfect watch party show.

Apparently this show makes more sense if you also watch Monogatari, but there’s no way that actually makes the insane leaps in logic make any more sense. There is not a world out there where these twists are anything but confusing and out of left field.

I’m just… in awe. Am I too stupid for this? Is this secretly genius? This is the most confusing show I’ve ever watched in my life–with shows like Lain or Evangelion, I can come up with an interpretation of the themes and messages. I have no idea what PBDC is trying to tell me other than hanging out with your friends rocks, and I have a million better choices for shows about that. What the fuck is going on?

Full disclosure, I went into Life With an Ordinary Guy Who Reincarnated Into a Total Fantasy Knockout expecting it to be bad. I love trash TV, and I love dumpster diving for shows that look like not very good, trashy fun. But the thing about dumpster diving is that among the garbage, occasionally you’ll find treasure. Life With an Ordinary Guy Who Reincarnated Into a Total Fantasy Knockout (which I’ll be shortening to Fabiniku from here on) is that treasure.

Fabiniku is, of course, an isekai with an overly long, overly descriptive title in both English and Japanese, but you don’t quite get what it says ... on the tin. It’s not *just* the story of a normal salaryman (Hinata Tachibana) getting reincarnated in a fantasy world as a hot blonde woman and getting told to go kill the Demon King, because he’s not the only one reincarnated in another world—he gets to bring along his cool, sexy, and aloof best friend Tsukasa Jinguuji as his overpowered weapon.

The dynamic between Tachibana and Jinguuji is the main driving force of the story—it is a romcom, after all. While Tachibana is almost completely average outside of his above average people skills, Jinguuji is the exact opposite. He’s a loner who’s not only good at everything he does, but constantly overshadows Tachibana, and it’s established early on just how jealous Tachibana is of Jinguuji. But despite any jealousy or animosity, they love each other deeply, which makes them an extremely shippable leading couple. They compliment and contrast each other as characters, and they play off each other extremely well. Together, they’re more interesting leads than either character would be on their own. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

The writer of the manga has gone on record saying that she wanted to create something that “isn’t bound by terms such as [boy’s love] or [transsexual],” which led to a surprisingly nuanced take on both gender and sexuality. It’s pretty heavily implied that at least Jinguuji was into Tachibana before the magical gender swap, and he had zero interest in women despite Tachibana’s best efforts to get him hitched (since he kept stealing all the girls he liked by being cooler and sexier), meanwhile you could easily interpret Tachibana as a closeted trans woman since he wished to be a pretty woman while drunk, and drunk actions are sober thoughts—not to mention that he really seems to enjoy being a woman and doing feminine things, all things considered. At one point Tachibana asks Jinguuji if your real gender is based on your body or soul, and his answer is that he thinks whatever you feel is right is what you are, which is not the nuclearly based take I was expecting from a trashy isekai. Unless they end up elaborating on their individual identities later into the story, it’s a safe assumption that it’s left open ended on purpose, so whatever your individual interpretation is is completely acceptable. They’re yaoi, they’re het, someone more creative than me could probably find a way to make them yuri too, they’re everything all at once. I see no difference! Love is love. <3

There’s a “curse” that the characters assume is to make them attracted to each other, but it’s never explicitly stated what the curse actually is, so it’s up for debate on if they weren't attracted to each other before getting to the new world, if they always liked each other and just never realized, or if it’s just a curse messing with their emotions. It doesn’t help that Tachibana’s only real skill he got upon entering the other world is being so hot that people would fight and kill for just a chance to have his hand in marriage, which throws another wrench in why they’re attracted to each other now. It’s all pretty open ended.

As it’s a comedy, I’d recommend you watch dubbed. Even if it weren’t a comedy, I’d recommend you watch dubbed, because the dub cast killed it. Tachibana and Jinguuji in the dub are voiced by Laura Stahl (mostly known for voicing young boys like Ray from The Promised Neverland or Iruma from Welcome to Demon School Iruma-Kun, but has voiced women like Mami from Rent-a-Girlfriend) and J. Michael Tatum (who regularly voices the tall, dark, and handsome type, like Kyouya from Ouran High School Host Club or Sebastian from Black Butler) respectively, and they sell both leads as extremely charming, funny characters, while also selling their dynamic, both romantically and as friends. If Tachibana were voiced by anyone else, he might’ve come off as whiny and obnoxious, while if Jinguuji were voiced by anyone else, he might’ve come off as a bit *too* standoffish. Perfect casting, which extended to most other characters—some highlights being Dallas Reid as Schwartz and Jamie Marchi as the Goddess of Love and Beauty.

Unfortunately, I can’t stay positive about everything in this show. Outside the two leads, there’s only really two characters I loved, with two characters I actively disliked. Everyone else was… fine, but nothing more than that. Most of the cast either wasn’t given enough time to develop beyond their initial gimmick (though the gimmicky characters, like both of the currently introduced goddesses, were consistently pretty funny), or they were so generic I find it hard to remember a single thing about them.

Characters like the weirdly homophobic take on an explicitly gay man or the elf whose only personality trait is obsessing over how hot people find her weren’t funny to me, and I’d argue they were actively poorly written—the gay man especially was jarring for a show that seemed to have a nuanced take on sexuality up to the point of his introduction—but your mileage may vary.

The best characters were the ones that managed to break out of their gimmick, like the stock light novel protagonist parody, Schwartz von Liechtenstein Lohengramm, who’s really just an average chuunibyou avid light novel reader. He could’ve easily just been a way to mock one of the standard archetypes of the genre used for a cheap laugh, but he’s not. He’s a real character who undergoes development, with surprising emotional depths that I won’t spoil due to being one of the funniest, most heartfelt scenes in the entire show. Schwartz is a perfect example of how, despite being a loving parody, Fabiniku (mostly) doesn’t let itself fall into the trappings of its genre but with plausible deniability because it’s being tongue in cheek about it.

A lot of loving parodies, like KonoSuba—which this show (rightfully) gets compared to a lot—and The 100 Girlfriends Who Really, Really, Really, Really, Really Love You, use their status as a parody to just do the tropes they’re supposedly making fun of guilt-free. While Fabiniku is absolutely not immune to this—(especially with elements such as the fanservice) it manages to avoid some of the worst trappings of its genre. Bland protagonists with nothing going for them? They don’t just subvert this in three different ways (and even more in the manga), they deconstruct it and comment on it late into the show. A past life that’s completely irrelevant now that they’re in another world? The leads knew and loved each other in their old life; it’s the driving force of the narrative. Cheating superpowers? The ones they actually get hurt them just as much as, if not more than, they help. Harem of archetypes? This is a romcom, so having a harem was never even an option. That’s not to say standard isekai tropes can’t be used well, but in this case they’re consistently subverted and defied in unique and interesting ways.

Fabiniku has no right being as good as it is. I went into this expecting a trashy, low quality show that might be fun to recommend for a watch party, and I came out with a genuinely funny, surprisingly heartfelt isekai romcom with some shockingly apt takes on gender and sexuality. If you like power fantasy isekai, you’ll like this as a loving parody of the genre. If you *don’t* like power fantasy isekai, you still might like it for its deconstruction and defiance of the usual tropes. If you told me going in I’d hold so much genuine love and respect for this show prior to watching it, I’d call you a liar. This should not be as good as it is.

“Better than the sum of its parts” is how I’d sum up my experience with the show overall. All its ideas, on their own, could be a pretty decent joke in a worse show, but when you mix them together it ends up being a great experience that I could recommend to almost anyone. It’s so much better than anything I could’ve expected from a show with a title like that.

Please drop a second season, it’ll fix me forever.

Hetalia was a phenomenon. It cannot be overstated how popular it was during the tail end of the 2000s up through the mid 2010s. Cosplayers online and at conventions, roleplayers, fan content on Livejournal, DeviantArt, YouTube—it was practically inescapable. You couldn’t move five feet without bumping into some friend group’s cosplay photoshoot or an AMV. If you’re watching Hetalia as of the time of writing this review, it’s a safe assumption that you’re either nostalgic, a general internet or fandom enthusiast, or fourteen. And if you’re fourteen, I implore you to please seek out better gag anime such as Lucky Star, Azumanga Daiou, Way of ... the Househusband, or, if you’re well versed enough in anime tropes, Saiki K.

That being said, I will not sugarcoat this. Hetalia is… not great, to say the least. This isn’t a hot take by any means; you’re far more likely to find people saying Hetalia is bad than people who say it’s a masterpiece modernly. But the reason *why* they say it’s bad is, almost always, the sin of being kind of cringe and popular with young girls. You’ve seen it with Twilight, you’ve seen it with Divergent, and, of course, you’ve seen it with Hetalia. Instead of an actual deconstruction of the issues present, people gravitate towards simply dismissing a piece of media as “cringe.” But Hetalia is far worse than cringe—it was outright harmful to its primarily teenage audience. Hetalia personifies countries and uses them to retell historical events as if they were interpersonal drama, which is a perfectly fine concept on the surface, but pull back the layers and you’ll find a myriad of problems that hint at a creator with some very concerning political views.

To start with what was the primary draw for a lot of its original fanbase, the characters—in a vacuum—are fine for the most part. They’re all based around stereotypes of different countries, with some standard anime fare thrown in for good measure. A good example would be England’s British stuffiness being mixed with the standard tsundere archetype, or Italy being a great cook and artist while also being a ditzy genki boy. There’s an odd glorification of the United States that’s especially prevalent in the jarringly serious segments on the American Revolution, but is mostly mitigated with WWII era to modern America being portrayed as a stupid, obnoxiously friendly attention whore gloryhound. Though, the word “characters” is misleading. They don’t really work as characters, given they’re more representations of the citizens of the countries they’re personifying than actual people, they work much better as vessels for jokes. The most notable part of the characters, at least in the dub, isn’t their personalities or the stereotypes they embody—it’s their voice acting.

While I can’t speak for the Japanese cast (and really, why would you watch a comedy subbed anyway?), the English cast is star studded. Hetalia bolstered the careers of nearly every actor involved due to how popular it was at the time, but they’re all talented in their own right and were mostly getting plenty of work prior anyway. Todd Haberkorn, J. Michael Tatum, Patrick Seitz, Eric Vale, Maxey Whitehead, and Cherami Leigh are just a small fraction of the cast members with impressive resumes. Jerry Jewell even used the exact same voice here as Russia as he would for Victor in Yuri!!! On Ice just a couple years later. If you’re planning to watch it in spite of this review, go ahead and see whose voice you recognize.

In any other show, I would be frothing at the mouth and excitedly pointing out every actor I recognized, looking characters up and seeing what else they were a part of. In Hetalia, I’m just disappointed they weren’t playing characters in a better show. Though, despite some of the material they were given to work with, the voice acting was absolutely not one of Hetalia’s many, many issues—though they really shouldn’t have hired white people to voice the Asian countries.

Based on that list of voice actors being nearly entirely men (and one of the two women being best known for playing a young boy in Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood) you can probably guess that Hetalia does not have a lot of female characters—and yes, we will get back to the obvious effects of a cast of almost exclusively pretty anime boys later. It would honestly be less insulting if there were no women in the cast at all instead of just very, very few. Even if you don’t want to acknowledge this as an issue of misogyny for whatever reason, it’s still a problem because it severely limits the character designs. Giving France or Russia estrogen wouldn’t have made Hetalia a better show, but it would have at least added a little more distinction between the million different blond men. I never want to see another blond anime boy in my life.

The misogyny is blatant, but it pales in comparison to the racism. While eventually more South Asian countries were designed, Hetalia, to this day, has exactly three African countries if you don’t count ancient Egypt. And one was likely just picked as a leftover to serve as the player character in the PSP game. To put that into perspective, there are over fifty African countries in the real world, and there were just as many in 2009 when the anime was released. South America has even less, with only two. That’s not even going into the lack of Mexico or presence of any Native American nations despite having multiple episodes showing the colonization of the Americas. I could tell you exactly why they did this, but you’re not gonna like the explanation. And again, this is a modern issue (how Hetalia is still around is beyond me), this isn’t just because the show is from 2009 and the webcomic is even older.

Speaking of, while Hetalia does manage to have some funny gags, some of it is… dated, to say the least. Ignoring any outright offensive or harmful content, some gags are very randomz rawr XD, for lack of better terminology—the type of thing teenagers with “roar means I love you in dinosaur” shirts and a MySpace page would laugh at. While this isn’t necessarily a drawback if you’re nostalgic for that era, and comedy is always subjective, it’s just… really not funny. This is especially true for the movie which forgoes the historical comedy entirely to focus on that sort of humor.

That being said, it’s not all bad. Aside from some of the characters being genuinely fun (whether by virtue of the actual writing or just because they happened to get a charismatic and funny voice actor), Hetalia’s biggest upside is being legitimately funny at times. Episodes are only around five minutes each, and the characters talk fairly quickly, so gags are rapid-fire. For every actively awful joke about how fat America is despite him being designed as the world’s most fuckable twink, they take another five chances to throw something genuinely good at you. And it works. Just about every episode has at least one gag that at least got a snort out of me, if not actual laughter, and everyone I’ve talked to about it has said something similar.

Now, Hetalia could have been an alright (if dated and racist) gag comedy focused around portraying world history as family drama if it weren’t for the elephant in the room: the titular Axis Powers. Yes, *those* Axis Powers. Hetalia jumps around the timeline a bit, but the main focus is World War II.

The Allies are portrayed as incompetent and unable to work together at best, and outright villainous at worst—with a gag about France spreading “rumors” about Germany, and the dub taking it a step further and explicitly saying that those “rumors” were about Germany killing Jews. It’s ambiguous exactly what those rumors were in the original Japanese, so it’s nowhere near as bad there (which is the case for just about every mention of Jews in the dub), but that doesn’t mean it’s off the hook. The lax view of Nazi war crimes present in any language you watch it in is what bred an environment that allowed those jokes to be written in the first place. To say it louder for the people in the back, that’s Holocaust denial! Hetalia is a show that perpetuates Holocaust denial. Suddenly, the stories of cosplayers doing Nazi salutes make a whole lot more sense.

Italy’s war crimes were downplayed at best and outright erased at worst. Italy, as stated earlier, is portrayed as a lazy ditz, and his first instinct is always to give up. So, to put it simply, he’s harmless! Mussolini who? Japan doesn’t have it much better, and may be even more egregious once you remember that *this is a show from Japan,* portraying the Axis (that, remember, Japan was a part of) as a quirky trio of friends. Yes, trio—other members of the Axis, such as Romania and Hungary, are never implicated. I have no doubt the original mangaka knew about them due to how much research some gags would’ve required, which means this is yet another case of historical revision. Hetalia seems to love doing that.

Speaking of, while Hetalia tries to take a “nobody is safe, we make fun of everyone!” approach to its comedy, it’s obviously scared to make fun of its home country. While it does make jokes around Japan, they’re all about rudeness masked by politeness, excessive apologizing, and emotional unavailability, and they’re told in a fairly kind way. Contrast with how scathing some of the other countries get it (like jokes about China keeping his citizens poor, or France sexually harassing the rest of the cast) and it becomes clear how much Hetalia doesn’t want to target Japan despite how easy it would be to make a joke about something like Japan’s work culture, suicide rates, or criminal justice system.

Now, the portrayals of Japan and Italy are concerning, but by far the worst one is Germany. The very first scene of the anime has Germany shutting all those other obnoxious countries up and getting the world meeting back on track, and he’s portrayed as exactly the same during WWII. Because if there’s one thing the world was missing, it was the Nazis portrayed as one of the most serious and level-headed members of an ensemble cast! It wouldn’t exactly be good if they completely skipped over Germany’s war crimes, but what makes it even worse is that they don’t. While kept to only a couple lines, there’s multiple times where Nazi crimes or eugenics get referenced, like when he asks Italy if he “wants [him] to gas [him],” or when Italy lists him being “whiter than anyone” as a compliment.

The historical revisionism and Holocaust denial is even more concerning when you remember that there is a legitimate, genuinely educational side of Hetalia. It could never be a primary source of history of course, but you could seriously learn some things by paying attention and maybe looking it up later—which is bad considering *the primary audience was teenagers,* who aren’t exactly known for being able to pick out misinformation from what they consider to be trustworthy sources. While you obviously can’t pin all the blame on Hetalia for that— especially since it wasn’t created with the intention of having an audience of kids—it would be wrong to say it has no responsibility in separating its misinformation from its actual historical fact, and it’s not okay to spread misinformation just because you think your audience is full of adults who may be able to tell the difference. You should always be cautious of the information you’re giving and the messages you’re spreading, regardless of who you’re catering to. It’s hard to focus on a good joke when two minutes later, Italy and Germany have a gag about just how much they love eugenics.

Nazi apologism is a lot to take in, so let’s take a breather and talk about something I alluded to earlier: the effects of a cast composed almost entirely of pretty anime boys. Now, if it were just fujoshis fighting over which blond men should kiss, that would be notable in a paper on fandom history, but not a review of the actual show. That is to say, Hetalia has queer content. This is not a case of fandom doing what fandom does best and shipping their favorite hot guys together—it’s not even queercoding. Hetalia has actual gay representation. Italy is just… canonically bisexual. Not teased at, not ambiguous bisexuality, not bi lighting and hint-hint wink-winking the audience. He flirts with women and gets an actual, on-screen kiss with a man. There is not a single twist in media that will ever recreate the shock of learning that Hetalia has actual queer content and the fujoshis were not lying or exaggerating. I’m still stunned. Hetalia is written by a man, by the way. The manga is seinen. This isn’t yaoi. This is gay content by a man for other men. Contrary to what the majority of the other negative reviews say, this is actually one of the better parts of Hetalia, if only for making it more entertaining.

Fun fact! In the webcomic, they talk about gay marriage! Not in a ”getting married for political reasons” way like the anime, the actual human rights issue of gay marriage. I could not make this up if I tried.

Overall, I cannot in good faith recommend Hetalia to anyone besides maybe people who are very into fandom or internet history, and even that has more to do with its impact than the actual content. Hetalia has some good elements, whether that be some fun characters or the occasional funny joke, but a couple good bites of an apple can’t fix a rotten core, and a couple fun elements don’t change the fact that Hetalia contains historical revisionism and portrays the Axis Powers as the good guys more often than not.

Don’t watch it, it’s really not worth it. You have far better options for both historical shows and gag comedies now, so take advantage of them.

Proud Immortal Demon Way is a harem novel in which the protagonist rises to power across all three realms, brings suffering upon those who dared to wrong him, and amasses a harem of hundreds of women, becoming the most powerful of all.

That’s not right.

Proud Immortal Demon Way is a danmei novel in which the protagonist suffers strife after strife, breaking his heart time and time again, only to finally by the end have it patched up by his kind and loving shizun who never truly wanted to hurt him, only misunderstood him. It’s the tale of a beautiful romance with many ups and downs.

No, still ... not right. Let me try again.

Proud Immortal Demon Way is a novel in which the protagonist gets so badly abused and sent so many mixed signals that he develops unshakable complexes, leading to his teacher and arguable (accidental) groomer having no choice but to cave to his whims in fear of all he holds dear being destroyed, despite whatever love story “Great Master” Mo Xiang Tong Xiu may try to sell you.

And that’s… really not a bad thing.

I’d say let’s start with a plot summary, but that’s a very tall task considering the official English release is over 1000 pages and took me around a month to complete. To put it simply, it’s the story of a man who is such a massive hater that the world itself punished him for it. That one description is what drew me into it as someone who—despite being a bisexual man—does not regularly read gay romance. Or xianxia. Or isekai. So take this with a grain of salt.

Shen Yuan is a chronically online young adult from a rich enough family that he plans to, in his words, “idle [it] away” comfortably while his family keeps him happy and supported. This goes awry one day when–after leaving yet another scathing comment on his favorite trashy webnovel to hate on, Proud Immortal Demon Way–he dies suddenly. He’s then isekaied into the book he loathes so much as to read to completion, but uh oh! He’s been isekaied into the body of one of the villains–the protagonist’s evil teacher, Shen Qingqiu! Beating the protagonist, killing those who should be close to him, coming onto a young girl–there’s nothing this wretched beast wouldn’t do. In order to avoid his original fate of being strung up and having his limbs torn off, he must rise to the occasion and grovel before the protagonist.

Basically, imagine it as the evil yaoi twin to those “reincarnated as the villainess” anime.

Shen Qingqiu, Shen Yuan, whatever you want to call him, is an absolutely fascinating protagonist. His inner monologue is witty, lending itself well to the best part of the novel: the satire. He’s stubborn, plays it cool despite his inner monologue being in a constant state of panic, argues with the narrative, and won’t stop bitching about how poorly everything is written even years after switching lives. It’s pathetic. It’s funny. It works very well, and I enjoyed reading from his perspective. He’s entertaining enough to hold you back from realizing just how disturbing Luo Binghe’s development really is.

Which, speaking of, sends us over to our… I want to say other protagonist, but for most of the story he really acts as more of an antagonist, so we’ll go with love interest: the in-universe main character, Luo Binghe. He’s a far more tragic character than the narrative presents him. Of course, while it does still view him with a certain level of tragedy, it never truly acknowledges just how fucked up his situation is. Two dead mothers, a father who’s never been in his life, and a shizun (teacher) who beats him and allows the other disciples to do the same all show that he doesn’t have a good, solid adult figure in his life. This is only made worse when his cold hearted shizun starts giving off mixed signals, showing signs of warmth, and eventually becoming truly kind, only to chew it up and spit it back in his face when he suddenly turns cold and cruel once again, throwing him into the Demon Realm. When he does come back, he believes that no matter what he does, he’ll only ever be seen as a monster. In that regard, it’s no wonder he decides there’s no point in behaving, and he should just (try to) take what he wants anyway. “What he wants” being sex. With his shizun. Who raised him. Are you seeing the issue here?

So, let’s unpack the power dynamics, why don’t we?

Shen Qingqiu is older, a teacher, and has an immense level of influence over not just Luo Binghe, but all his loved ones due to his high status and the respect his elders, peers, and subordinates all carry for him. However, he’s also at the whims of the System, which is essentially a guide that offers rewards for doing well and pushing the story forward, and punishments for doing poorly. Along with the System, he’s tied by the constraints of the plot. No matter what differences arise, it always moves towards the same general plot beats, and there are some basic facts of the world that cannot change–such as Luo Binghe being unable to be killed. While this gives him a leg up with his genre awareness, it also gives him a massive amount of WRONG genre awareness. It contributes to the mixed signals he gives off and makes him act in ways that we, as the audience of a danmei novel, know are just making things worse. For example, after Luo Binghe (reminder, the love interest) returns from the Demon Realm, instead of sticking around to talk things out, he just keeps running away from him in fear of his own life.

On the other hand, we have Luo Binghe. Abused, loved, feared, loved again, abandoned, loved yet again; it’s a never ending cycle with him. It has been his whole life. Really, it’s no wonder he imprinted on his shizun. He’s been suffering under the cycle of abuse longer than he can even remember. After being thrown away one too many times, he becomes a clingy mess. His heart lies solely on his shizun’s shoulders, and is that really fair to either of them? He spirals further and further, to the point of murder, dubcon, and the apocalypse. It really could’ve been biting commentary on the cycle of abuse if presented in another story of another genre.

And the power dynamics don’t make it bad, or even questionable—I found them absolutely fascinating. I was so intrigued and enthralled every time a new layer was added to the complex dynamics. What made it questionable was simply authorial intent. It’s meant to be romantic. It could be a successful story focusing around the cycle of abuse, but instead it’s a failed romance. I don’t think I’ve ever been less excited about a couple getting together at the end of the will-they-won’t-they and riding off into the sunset together, because I didn’t want them to get together. It’s not good for either of them, and yet the narrative treats it as if they’re soulmates. I was disturbed by the lax view of the dynamics–almost as disturbed as I was witnessing the dynamics being formed in the first place.

But that raises the question of how important authorial intent really is, doesn’t it? If what I got was a psychosexual thriller exploring themes of abuse, then would it be wrong for me to judge it as such–even if the original intent was to be a romance? I can’t quite say. I want to judge it on the merit I saw, because when reading it with the intent of a thorough character analysis, I had some of the most fun reading I’ve had in years. But is it right for me to, when the intended reading horrifies me?

And therein lies the mixed feelings. Discussing this book has me split between the part of me that believes in death of the author and the part of me that believes it’s still worthwhile to care for the intended reading. This book could range anywhere from a 2/10 all the way up to a 8/10, but I don’t think it lies in the middle. I think it has to be on one end of the spectrum, and those are scores for two entirely different readings of the same text. If nothing else, it’s a fascinating case study.

I want to lean towards a higher score though. While I do think a low score would be warranted, there’s enough good aspects to make up for it being someone’s horrifying (to me, not kink shaming) fetish. For one, there’s the writing. I’ve already mentioned how witty and snappy it is, which brings with it a need to keep pushing to the next page. While I found the pace a bit too hectic and the sheer volume of exposition made it hard to keep my characters and locations straight, it did keep the action going. I do wish it slowed down to let the reader take it all in a bit more though. The prose was well done.

For another, the characters. I’ve already talked about the main couple, but I’d like to discuss other highlights.

Ming Fan and Ning Yingying are the two major disciples, other than Luo Binghe of course, who study under Shen Qingqiu. While they don’t show up much, I found the ways they subverted their original roles (Shen Qingqiu’s right hand man in the abuse of Luo Binghe and another enemy to be taken out by him, and a little sister type for the harem respectively) to be refreshing. My only real critique is that I wish we got to see more of them, and I wish it went a bit further with Ming Fan’s crush on Ning Yingying; I believe it could’ve added to the subversion of the harem and added a good comedy bit, but I do also understand why it didn’t go in that direction, since a side romance would inherently require them to have more screen time; the members of their sect were meant to avoid earthly desires, so an extra romance would’ve caused more drama, and thus a longer story.

Another one I’d like to point out is Yue Qingyuan, who I ended up liking more than I initially expected to. While he seemed flat at first, in a world of snark and solving problems with violence, I really appreciated having a character who was so kind, purely loyal, and could not solve all his problems by drawing his sword. On the opposite end, there’s Liu Qingge, who solves all his problems with his sword. Being a warlord, this is no wonder. His snark around both Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe, albeit for different reasons, was entertaining and gave him more of a personality than I had initially expected from his introductory scenes. They were meant to die in the original Proud Immortal Demon Way, both at the fault of Shen Qingqiu, and Shen Qinqiu saving them was pivotal to changing the plot. Despite never actually seeing them die in the story we get, it felt almost fix-it-fic to see them alive and well at the end of the novel. It felt more feel-good than the main romance at least.

I’ll try not to say too much about late arrival spoilers Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang, Luo Binghe’s (debatably) evil father and (even more debatably) evil cousin. Despite being characters who were originally cut from the in-universe novel for being a spotlight stealing squad, here I wish they got a little more spotlight. Zhuzhi-Lang was endearing to me, being a doormat with undying loyalty but questionable ways of showing it. Although, not THAT kind of questionable–none of Luo Binghe’s sexual violence, surprisingly; guess it doesn’t run in the family. It was cute, in a lost puppy left all alone in the rain sort of way. Mistreated and loyal to a fault when he finally receives a speck of kindness, he adds to the themes of the cycle of abuse and how people cope with it. On a similar note, Tianlang-Jun being a lover of cultural exchange who was targeted for no reason other than fantasy racism and turning this unfair treatment into violence and anger also contributes to the themes, though I found it to be to a less interesting extent than Zhuzhi-Lang since Luo Binghe already had “anger at the world as a response to abuse” covered. Also, while I had initial fears of an incest plotline, those were entierly unwarranted. Thank God.

Speaking of spoilers, Shang Qinghua is impossible to talk about without spoiling the plot twist that he was another person isekaied in. But he’s not just anyone who was isekaied in, he’s the original author of the in-universe novel: one Mr. “Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky.” Outside of Shen Qingqiu, he’s one of the funnier characters, and his banter with Shen Qingqiu adds on to both of their characterizations. That’s not even going into the idea of a male power fantasy harem author getting together with his special little OC being hilarious. I would have read a whole novel about just him; it’s no wonder he got a chunk of extras dedicated just to him. His original life as a sell-out author makes me wonder just how much of a parody he is of people Mo Xiang Tong Xiu has actually met online.

As much as I enjoyed their presence, the side characters didn’t quite get enough time to shine. Though I think this has less to do with too much focus on the main couple, and more to do with the pacing being too fast, which lead to the feeling of rushing through everyone else’s arcs and development. It didn’t help that for a lot of their development, either the most interesting part was shown all at once and not given more time to develop (in the case of Liu Qingge), or it was almost entirely shown off screen due to time skips (in the cases of Ming Fan and Ning Yingying). In other cases, such as with Yue Qingyuan, they didn’t develop over the course of the story at all, and only had interesting parts of their backstory revealed to explain how they ended up this way. This isn’t inherently a bad thing, and it didn’t really drag it down all that much, it was just a little disappointing to have a cool, colorful cast that didn’t get utilized as much as they could have been.

But enough of the characters that were done well (though they needed a little more time to shine), there were also the characters who weren’t as enjoyable, though through no fault of their own. One of these is Gongyi Xiao, a disciple under a different jurisdiction from Shen Qingqiu who developed something of a friendship with him anyway. His death was ultimately just a way to shoo him out of the story—what a cheap reason to kill off a character. At the very least it should have been on screen to give it more weight. But the blase treatment of his death still can’t catch up to the genre’s standard pitfall in terms of questionable content: the treatment of the female characters. The Little Palace Mistress was a woman scorned, Qiu Haitang was treated like a monster for doing nothing about abuse she wasn’t even aware was occuring, Su Xiyan–Luo Binge’s birth mother–and Luo Binghe’s adoptive mother are dead before the story even begins, Sha Hualing has almost no bearing on the plot, and Qi Qingqi and Liu Mingyan have even less. While better than my expectations going in (due to the usual treatment of women in danmei and yaoi), that doesn’t make it above criticism. The women are almost entirely treated as lesser characters or as purely bitter people with nothing else going for them, outside of (arguably) Ning Yingying. With so many plot relevant, positive roles to fill, there’s no reason at least one of the major ones couldn’t have been filled by a woman.

Overall, the side characters were fun highlights with strong voices and witty banter, but they’re not immune to the pitfalls of the genre and the whims of plot convenient deaths–despite both plot convenient deaths and poor treatment of women in harem fiction being called out, subverted, and satirized within the novel itself; it demonstrates a shocking lack of self awareness.

Another highlight was the comedy. It was consistently a funny, witty, tightly written book–with props to English translators Faelicy and Lily, both taken directly from the most popular fan translation, which I appreciate seeing. While I’m sure they had good source material to work with, Mandarin is not an easy language to translate to English and they did a very good job keeping the tight writing I assume was always present. The two best bits were: 1) Shen Yuan being a chronically online loser who’s faking his cool composition in order to look badass and 2) Shen Yuan being such a hater that even after living as Shen Qingqiu for years, even after warping the story into an entirely new genre, even in the face of danger, even after meeting the author as Shang Qinghua, he will not shut up about how much he hates the book and hates the author. You’d think that one or both of these may get tiring by the end, since they’re traits he never really works through, but they show up just enough and in creative enough ways that I never found myself growing tired of either. Notice how both of the best bits focused around the main character, which contributed to him being such a fun person to read about. For as much as he complains about Luo Binghe being whiny, he’s not much better himself; he’s just better at covering for it.

With so many compliments thrown towards it, I think it’s time to unpack something I didn’t find effectively done at all. Let’s talk about the sex scene.

Not counting for any extras, there’s only one full fledged sex scene. And it’s…not good. Full disclosure, I’m not into dubcon or noncon, so I’m not the target demographic by any means. However, to compensate, I sent it to my friend and editor who gave it a full review from the perspective of someone who really is into dubcon. Their thoughts can be summarized as too much pain, not enough pleasure. If you’re going to make it dubcon instead of opting for full on rape, you should make the victimized party experience some enjoyment; the consent is dubious and not absent for a reason. You could even add in some guilt over enjoying it if you’re feeling bold. Personally, as someone really turned off by blood play, the constant mentions of blood made an already not great or enjoyable sex scene that much more difficult to stomach, but your mileage may vary.

“Too much pain, not enough pleasure” may as well be a full review of this book in of itself. It’s just a constant beatdown with moments of levity here and there, which is fine in theory, but when you write one of the main characters as a surprisingly apt take on abuse victims who turn into abusers themselves, it just muddles your message. It’s written as if it’s supposed to be drama with moments to breathe, but it comes off more as breaks in the abuse. And that’s what it is, that’s the elephant in the room, The Scum Villain’s Self Saving System is a story of abuse. And it is absolutely, without a doubt, fascinating. I am a person who loves character analysis and gray situations in media; I love to imagine and unpack the inner psyches of characters, and this book is absolutely amazing for that. Luo Binghe especially has so, so much wrong with him. When the aforementioned editor asked about what his deal is, I was able to give a whole list. This is a major flaw if read as a romcom, because I’m rooting for his endgame partner to be therapy and not, you know, his teacher, but if you read this instead as a comedy thriller then it’s a major upside. He didn’t have to turn out this way, but bad choice after bad choice led to abandonment issues so severe he would burn everything down to make sure it didn’t happen again. I just wish I could believe this was an intentional writing decision and not just a parody of whump used to push a romcom.

Another highlight was, while specific to me reading the English release, the artwork done by Xiao Tong Kong–a prominent fanartist prior to being hired for the English release. I enjoy reading fine, but light novels—which is the medium the English translation was released in—are more digestible than regular ones and I always find the artwork to be a good way to break it up. It’s clean and well done, and as I said about the translators, I always appreciate seeing prominent fan creators elevated. It shows an appreciation for fandom, which is especially relevant in a book where the POV character is a guy so entrenched in fandom he regularly uses common fandom terminology, fangirls over moments and characters he didn’t aggressively hate, and even throws in a subtle TV Tropes reference at one point–though I assume that one was added in localization. It shows awareness from the author and her team. On a similar note of things specific to the official English release, I’m always a fan of translator’s notes so I appreciated those, but what I appreciated even more was the glossary. As someone who, as stated before, does not regularly read danmei, xianxia, or really engage much Chinese media in general, it was unbelievably helpful–very succinct and easy to read. The glossary explains fandom terminology (OOC, moe, fudanshi), general Chinese cultural terminology (the five elements, incense time, rank titles), and terminology relevant to xianxia media (cultivation, inedia, cores). As someone who only recognized the fandom third, this was extremely helpful in my ability to follow the plot. I would’ve read the glossary on its own, just for fun.

All in all, for all its faults and failures in its intended genre, The Scum Villain’s Self Saving System was a wild ride that I cannot bring myself to hate. There was so much to enjoy, so much to analyze; I even bonded with people over it. I do not regret reading it, but I’m not quite sure I can recommend it to anyone else. It’s not a good romance so romance fans aren’t a target, and it’s treated as too much of a romance to recommend to people who want to read about the cycle of abuse so I’d be hard-pressed to recommend it to thriller fans either. Who am I meant to recommend this to? I enjoyed it enough that I want to, but I can’t. I’m really at a loss. I really, truly believe this is the most mixed I’ve ever been on a book.

Do you think if I die after posting this review, the universe is going to make me fix the story?