Review: Blood on the Tracks by Shuzo Oshimi

 

I wasn't planning to write a review of Shuzo Oshimi's Blood on the Tracks. I wasn't planning to read Shuzo Oshimi's Blood on the Tracks. Borrowing its title from a Bob Dylan album that has absolutely nothing to do with the story, Blood on the Tracks is a psychological horror series about a 14-year-old boy and his "overprotective" mother. I knew about the plot of the first volume going into this. As a horror fan, I've heard about this series for years. As a person diagnosed with panic disorder, I'm reluctant to engage with stories that do a really good job of conveying what it feels like to experience intense psychological trauma. I had been informed that this was such a story and avoided it. 

Then my wife purchased the first two volumes and read them both in about 30 minutes. After reading them, she walked to my desk and told me I had to read them immediately. It was very quickly apparent that Oshimi is one of, if not the, most talented horror artists of his generation. 

In 2024, the shelves of every bookstore are saturated with Junji Ito's brand of horror: grotesque mutilations and monsters. As happy as I am that Ito is enjoying well-deserved notoriety outside of Japan, I don't think he's the last word in Japanese horror manga by any stretch. In fact, I've argued on another podcast that Junji Ito's Uzumaki is often more bizarre than horrific. 

Where Ito takes his art to inhuman extremes, Oshimi grounds himself firmly in the human. Whereas the Lovecraftian themes of Uzumaki or the science fiction themes of Gyo offer the reader something to think about beyond the tortures Ito's protagonists are made to endure, Oshimi offers no such escape. Blood on the Tracks takes the reader deep into its protagonist's trauma and leaves them there. 

Content Warning: Child Abuse, Violence Against Children

A more detailed description of the manga's content follows. I won't go into any graphic detail but do not feel obligated to read on if this is not your thing. I will also spoil significant details from volume 1, so if you are interested in reading and would like to go in knowing as little as possible, stop here.

Blood on the Tracks is the story of a mentally disturbed mother, Seiko, who is obsessed with her son, Seichi. Early in volume 1, many characters note how overprotective Seiko is of Seichi. We see signs that Seiko may be trying to separate Seichi from friends at school. While on a family hiking trip, Seichi's cousin jokingly pushes him toward a cliff. Seiko quickly jumps onto Seichi to keep him from falling. The entire family (the husband's family it should be noted), mocks Seiko for this overprotective act. 

Later Seichi and his cousin go off on their own. They find a higher cliff. The cousin, Shigeru, taunts Seichi about his reluctance to move closer. Seiko arrives, having followed the two boys. She pushes Shigeru off of the cliff. He sustains massive head trauma and is left in a coma. Seichi is the only witness. 

These pages struck me especially. The visual depiction of the adrenaline hitting Seichi as he processes what he witnessed. The focus on the distance from his head to his feet, showing a disassociation with his body. The increased perspiration as his heartrate skyrockets. The shaking and blurring of the vision as he stares at his hand, unable to properly bring things into focus. 

I have had more panic attacks than I care to remember. I have never seen the physical sensation conveyed so accurately before in a drawing. The drawing, while more than competent, is relatively simple for an intense horror reaction. Oshimi certainly is a skilled artist, but more than artistic competency, his eye for direction in this moment absolutely floored me. These two pages strike more fear into me than anything Junji Ito has ever drawn. I have felt this horror, and truth be told, I'd like to never feel it again.

Eventually, the police will be brought in to get a full account of how a minor came to be so horrifically injured. Seiko lies. She says that Shigeru fell of his own accord. Seichi is then asked if that is indeed what happened. We get the following page. 

Again a simple choice. A low angle and a shadow cast over the faces of the adults. They tower over him, their judgment something to be feared. They're faceless, unsympathetic, offering no support or advice in the choice that now needs to be made. Seiko's metaphorically blood-stained hand that earlier pushed his cousin from the cliff now rests on his shoulder, pushing him toward the "correct" answer. He confirms to the police that Shigeru fell. It was an accident. 

Later, he will be alone with his mother and father. His father asks the mother to get him something to eat. She asks Seichi if he would like a red bean bun or a pork bun. The same innocuous question she asks him every time he needs a quick meal. The casualness of it frightens Seichi. How is his mother able to pretend that nothing happened? 

The panel has no dialog, it needs no dialog. For Seiko, everything is back to normal. She is a sociopath. She is capable of killing without remorse. Seichi is only beginning to see her. He doesn't understand why any of this happened. We zoom in slightly on Seiko's smiling eyes. Seichi looks away, cowed. With a glance, with a smile, Seiko intimidates her son into going along with the act. This is what abuse looks like.

Oshimi's ability to accurately convey dark emotions and his refusal to hold back on the portrayal of abuse and the damage it can cause is honestly horribly uncomfortable. The art he is creating is ugly, but it's ugly because it's true. This hurts to look at and it should. 

Blood on the Tracks is 17 volumes. They're not all out in English yet, and truth be told, I'm not sure how far I'll be able to make it. After two volumes, I have some sense of how bad this might get. I suspect that Seiko is only at the beginning of a deep descent into madness and depravity. I won't pull punches, there are hints that the abuse may turn sexual. If this is a tale of survival, I may be able to stick it out. If this is a tale of Seichi's torturous destruction, I will not keep reading. 

This is the first horror manga in a long time to fill me with a real dread, though it is hardly the first to tackle these topics. Oshimi brings a deep understanding of the emotions at play here and the artistic ability to put them on the page. In fact, he brings perhaps too deep an understanding and conveys it perhaps too well.