In this graphic memoir, a young biracial woman recalls her complicated emotions when she returns from America to her childhood home in JapanNineteen-year-old Christine is excited to study Japanese in Tokyo, where she lived until age 5. Being "half"-with a Japanese mother and a white American father-has long been a source of pain because it's been the main lens through which other people, both Asian and white, see her. While leaving Japan made Christine an outsider, she hopes that going back will help her "stop feeling lost" and offer a sense of belonging. She envisions new adventures with new friends, but her excitement is tempered by embarrassment that her Japanese isn't fluent. Initially Tokyo is thrilling, but even there she despairs of being seen for herself rather than being exoticized. As she's variously judged to be too Japanese and not Japanese enough, Christine begins to feel alienated and hopeless and slides into depression. Christine's portrayal is appealing and true to life; Mari captures her fragile emotional state with care and accuracy, and her self-loathing, self-isolation, and endless rumination are brought to life in strikingly realistic ways. The muted light-purple-and-black color palette with occasional pops of color evokes nostalgia and melancholy. The artwork creatively conveys Christine's experiences, from the Tokyo backdrop to her internal state (such as black scribbles representing the Japanese speech she can't understand).Identity issues and mental health crises portrayed with depth and authenticity.(Graphic memoir. 13-18)

Gr 7 Up— Mari spent much of her young life feeling like she never completely fit in. She was born in Tokyo and raised in the U.S., but her biracial appearance and her inability to speak Japanese made her feel incomplete. She thought that spending a year abroad in Tokyo and studying Japanese would fix what she was missing, but that's not what happened. Readers expecting a straight sequel to Mari's previous book, Diary of Tokyo Teen, won't find it here. Instead, they'll find something even deeper and more powerful. The difference between a teenager visiting a country on vacation and a young woman living in a country for a year means delving past first impressions. As Mari experiences Japan and examines herself at this pivotal stage of her life, she sees things through a starker lens. When Mari learns that people in Japan judge her because she's biracial, either thinking she's not Japanese enough or that she's exotic because she's "half," she gets frustrated and depressed. Readers will be pulled into her emotional journey through darker shades, melting word balloons, and even melting panel edges as Mari illustrates her despair on the page. But readers will also witness the colors of cherry blossoms, among other things that still manage to spark joy in her heart. VERDICT A powerful memoir for teens who enjoy physical and emotional journeys, and for anyone who ever felt they didn't fit in.— Andrea Lipinski

How can you be whole when everyone tells you you're half? In this graphic memoir, Mari (Diary of a Tokyo Teen, 2016) explores growing up with a Japanese mother and an American father, as well as the experiences of living in both the U.S. and Japan. As a child, Mari feels exoticized, not quite fitting in with her friends or surroundings in the States. She hopes moving to Japan will help define her identity, as she works on getting in touch with her roots and studying Japanese. Though the pressure of self-discovery becomes too much to handle, Mari reconnects with her grandparents and transcends language barriers so her family can be her lifeline. As depression tries to pull her under, Mari agonizes over why she can't be normal and why she feels so broken. With the help of friends, family, and therapy, Mari comes to recognize that healing comes from within and tackles her self-image. Muted colors and hand-drawn illustrations deliver an intimate look into a difficult period. A touching story that anyone who's felt alone can connect with.

In this graphic memoir, a young biracial woman recalls her complicated emotions when she returns from America to her childhood home in JapanNineteen-year-old Christine is excited to study Japanese in Tokyo, where she lived until age 5. Being "half"-with a Japanese mother and a white American father-has long been a source of pain because it's been the main lens through which other people, both Asian and white, see her. While leaving Japan made Christine an outsider, she hopes that going back will help her "stop feeling lost" and offer a sense of belonging. She envisions new adventures with new friends, but her excitement is tempered by embarrassment that her Japanese isn't fluent. Initially Tokyo is thrilling, but even there she despairs of being seen for herself rather than being exoticized. As she's variously judged to be too Japanese and not Japanese enough, Christine begins to feel alienated and hopeless and slides into depression. Christine's portrayal is appealing and true to life; Mari captures her fragile emotional state with care and accuracy, and her self-loathing, self-isolation, and endless rumination are brought to life in strikingly realistic ways. The muted light-purple-and-black color palette with occasional pops of color evokes nostalgia and melancholy. The artwork creatively conveys Christine's experiences, from the Tokyo backdrop to her internal state (such as black scribbles representing the Japanese speech she can't understand).Identity issues and mental health crises portrayed with depth and authenticity.(Graphic memoir. 13-18)