With Pearl being a character, I am disappointed there was no channeling or really any mystic elements to the plot, though I do suppose it was a decent red herring — well pulled off, by Ace Attorney manga standards. I will always lowgrade beef with how Pearl dialogue comes off (she is 8 years old, and I don't feel enough little kid energy, yes, this is important to me, specifically) but she is probably the most funny character in this volume, give her a raise.

As for the two cases we have this volume, the second was cut half way with decent enough intrigue to keep engagement for the next volume. I enjoy the way these two cases are thematically tied — death by food!

The first case reminds me a bit of the Turnabout Gallows case from volume 2 of this series in that it deals with more heavy topics than I am slightly used to seeing in Ace Attorney (I say about a series that chronicles murder trials), only this case tries to levy more comedic bits right alongside Traumatic Revelation that falls more flat. Turnabout Gallows was creepy and owned it, this case, Turnabout from Heaven tries to have that same level of seriousness & dread right alongside gags about a cat wrecking a courtroom, and it makes for a less cohesive story and a less lasting impression. While I wouldn't say many of the dark themes presented in Ace Attorney stories are ever done mindfully or holistically well, this has never been an issue for my enjoyment of the series, as I am mostly engaged in the mystery and mental gymnastics of it all. Turnabout from Heaven, however, seems to lack the charm of most Ace Attorney cases, and thus exposes the chinks.

The second case, like most second cases in these volumes, I am finding, is the more wacky & zany cousin to the first, and while in general these cases are less complex than those of the games, this one is right back into the saddle of greatly matching the energy of the games, and what else could you ask for? The side characters of the second case are particularly engaging, and I love the translator notes at the end that share the inspiration for the names (Risa Iko as "recycle", you will be remembered as one of the greats).

A really solid introduction to the story! There was a beautiful balance between plot and contextualization, and the scope of the world already feels vast yet familiar by rooting the magic and myriad locations in logic and fantastical realism.

The fish out of water character of Coco works in an endearing sense, but her characterization is already strong enough to make her interesting beyond that. The level of mystery that surrounds Agott and Quifrey is well balanced alongside wholesome characters like Coco and Tetia to keep pace and intruige while not feeling stifling, by lack of too little understanding and warmth, or too comfortable, with no real stakes. I am interested to see where the story takes us from here, in terms of characterization, because while I am interested in Agott, I can easily see where the her interiority may become trite and flat. My hopes are up! Because this volume is so load bearing in terms of situating the story and introducing the lore of the world, I am holding out judgement on characters for now, beyond my belief that they are interesting and set up well.

As for the plot, the story is great at immediately grabbing attention and also allowing us to get to know characters through trials. I hope to get more moments of studying and bonding (a very silly request, given that we just ended the book on a very Plot Important & Tense Cliffhanger) to illuminate character relationships and learn more about the personhood of those at the Atelier, but I am pleased to say that the pacing is engaging, delightful, well-timed, and robust in how it marries action and world building concepts.

A stand out introduction — but perhaps thats because I am a sucker for fantasy.

Sense and Sensibility, I do rather think, is an Austen book specifically catered to me.

The family politics of the book smack you over the head on the very first page of the novel, and (one of) the core thematic elements of Generalized Family Horseplay & Fuckery™ doesn't die down from there. Familial duty and the lack thereof, familial expectation and it's tendency to overcomplicate matters, familial bonds and how they tie us but never immediately explain the self to the other and yet, often make us feel so certain that we know another's mind... yes, Austen does have family play a decisive role in all of her stories that I have heretofore read, but maybe it's simply detailed with more presence in this novel, or maybe it has simply been so long since I last read her work that it's notability is so sharp, but regardless, she got me.

Of course, when I think of Jane Austen I also immediately think of her characters, who are so captivating — and if not because I adore them immensely than because I wish to hit them over the head with a brick because they're so intentionally and realistically annoying that I have to give Austen her flowers, all of us knowing that she knew exactly what it was she was doing. And even then, think of the brick as a loving kiss because it's all fun and games, in the end. What a true romp in Wider Company looks like: silly, delightful, irritating, nuanced, and never quite dull.

And never quite dull really being the operating fragment of that sentence because truly, I don't think I've ever had an Austen book with a more convoluted, Out There plot. While it's true that there is always something wonderfully (and very sophisticatedly — that's how she's able to pull it off) complicated in Austen books, I think, perhaps, why they never struck me as so absurd in their entertainment is because they're happening to side characters, with the main couple's focus being a little less so Shenanigan Packed. It's always a sister or friend in need of some eleventh hour deus ex machina to cut through the hedgemaze and find a clear way out, it seems to me, and this time, it was quite the opposite. Elinor & Marianne, instead, are the ones getting whiplash from all of the tight corners their story takes that, to be quite honest, and in reference to something only one (1) other woman on this Earth can reasonably know about, it reminded me of the hi-jinks of the Dawnfair AU™ (trademarked & branded & always in the periphery of my mind's eye ♡). While that might be a deterrent to some folks, I like my plots needlessly intricate & laughably labyrinthine — proving, of course, that the author can pull it off in a way satisfying, and again, I point you to the sophistication, detail, wit, and care that Austen liberally applies to all corners and surfaces of her stories.

I came into this book hopeful to find kinship in Elinor, a Reserved™, Socially Conscious™, Rational™ character, and I am very pleased to say that I certainly found that to be the case. (I, too, am going to keep my feelings all to myself and only share them with others after I have thoroughly parsed through their meaning and can display it as something pleasing for consumption, and do the same with all the bad feelings, too, waiting to share for a time opportune... and then never actually realize such a point in time because there's always Something Else happening with others, much to your chagrin. Wait; who said that?) I deeply connected to her very apparent attachment to her family, and her devotion to them despite their unique ability to grate on her, specifically, and I adored her relationship to Marianne, who is so totally her (and my) opposite, and yet a character I never found absurd in her emotions & feeling (despite their appropriateness, or clear absence of it). This is wholly due to the fact that I really do enjoy the sisterhood between Elinor & Marianne and was decidedly mapping their relationship onto my own. I was at first very pleased by the existence of Margaret (I had no idea there was a third sister!) and then lightly disappointed by her lack of presence in the pages, but it does (begrudgingly) make sense for her to not be present for large parts of the story, and we really do have so very many characters on her plate that I can't see her easily joining the party.

As for the men of the story, obviously Colonel Brandon is the real MVP, all you posers wish you had what he has, we bonded immediately through a flannel waistcoat and I never doubted him once, after. Rooting for Colonel Brandon is an occupation, and I have clocked in very dutifully for every moment he was on the page. Some would call him boring but I know the truth, and in another life Colonel Brandon and I are watching this plot devolve into chaos and comparing notes, trying to pull the other people out of the sea of their misery. Decidedly my favorite character of the book and perhaps one of my all-time favorites of Austen, y'all don't get Colonel Brandon and his half-melancholic drip the way I do. Edward, on the other hand, was fine. I liked him well enough at the start of the story and the feeling never quite faded, even in the throes of miscommunication, and perhaps it's because I liked Elinor so well that my opinion of him survived The Lucy Of It All, which certainly tried me, but in a good way. Willoughby can meet me in a Denny's parking lot at midnight so I might stick him with words and perhaps butterfly knives, but I don't think there was ever any doubting of that fact, there.

Love the bonds between the characters, love the front and center bizarre of the plot's complicatedness, love the way Austen reads — as though I'm having tea with a friend and we're stifling our giggling because it's all so absurd and the girlies are fighting!!!!! — and, not at all least, I love a main character who reads like a more refined version of me.