It started as a relatively simple (at least that was the impression) sword-and-sorcery parody meant to deconstruct the concept of eating monsters. It really is disgusting if you think about it for a moment, isn't it? Would you love to eat a rabid dog chasing you, or a snake about to bite you? That's the kind of mental struggle the characters had to go through at the beginning.
And it would be perfectly alright if it had stayed just that: a comedy around eating disgusting things. But the story eventually evolved into a compelling adventure where the procurement of food is not a comedic gimmick, but a unifying theme around which characters are exposed and relationships develop. And the best part? By the way you make it to the halfway point, you begin to realize everything has been planned and foreshadowed from the very beginning.
It bears repeating that Ryoko Kui is an incredible talent. She is very well-versed in both human and animal psychology, and the command she has over her characters is undeniable. Their interpersonal dynamics are some of the best I've ever seen in any story. They feel familiar but don't conform to any stereotypes; they are completely distinct from each other but have instant onscreen chemistry. And their behavior is one hundred percent convincing, true to established character traits and informed by their past experiences.
These experiences are the key to everything, and I can't get enough of the grace and finesse with which every character's development is presented. Every event the party goes through has long-term consequences. Every little thing remains in their memory as the author is meticulously tracking every aspect of the dungeon's closed ecosystem. A bar of "very good" soap is lost in volume 1, which is noticed in volume 3, and then it is found in volume 7, leading to a bath scene, leading in turn to another bonding experience for the party. The author will never fall so low as to beat you over the head with verbal descriptions of the characters' growth: she just shows you the gradual progress as it happens, both cause and effect, and trusts your intelligence to connect the dots. It's depressing how rarely I see authors in traditionally pop-entertainment genres show so much respect for the audience.
The exact same reverence is given to the setting. Although it can be easy to dismiss it as another banality inspired by Tolkien and Dungeons and Dragons, that would be missing the forest for the trees: the depth of fantasy and mythology lore explored and the precision of weaving it into the setting is well on par with the best works in the genre (and I'm not talking just about manga!) and opens new perspectives even for die-hard fantasy fans. The dungeon inhabitants' physical attributes are articulated in a unique style and follow the internal logic of the story. Kui has a *lot* of shorter stories and random designs showcasing her love for mythical creatures.
This goes lengths to show passionate research put into it and makes for a lot of interesting and often gut-busting interactions among the cast. And the fact that no experience is ever truly lost with the group leads to a lot of sitcom-like comedy that naturally emerges when well-written, quirky characters are put together in any sort of unusual scenario. The humor emerges naturally from their personalities and the audience's memory of their past experience. Organic setups pay off all by themselves, just like that. Very few stories ever end up in such a desirable state!
The visual comedy is further punctuated by beautiful art. Ryoko Kui isn't just a great writer and fantasy buff—she's also an amazing artist and character designer. You can always infer a character's emotions by looking at their face, allowing for both much tighter comedic timing and more diligent adherence to the 'show, don't tell' principle. The designs themselves are fantastic; they're never cutesy in the typical moe way, they are highly physically-accurate, and they grow on you so much you wouldn't want to change them for anything. Even orcs look appealing in their own way. If you can gain access to volume releases and supplementary materials, there are pages upon pages of top-tier designs, such as imagining the same characters as different sex or fantasy race. And yeah, there's not even a hint of deliberate fan service. The author evidently respects her craft far too much to pander and compromise the narrative's tone and message just for titillation; instead she opts to engage the audience by the means any good story should. And engage it does.
Throughout it all, Dungeon Meshi never abandons its food focus: all the monster dishes are unique, original, look hella tasty, and always feel appropriate for the circumstances. Again, the range is incredible: it's used as a comedic relief after a tense situation, to make a point by one character to another, to assert a victory over a tough enemy, to soothe a troubled heart... What seemed like a mere fun gimmick at first has proven to be a potent narrative tool that subtly enriched the story without forcing it into a repeating formula.
If all of that sounds like I'm just endlessly heaping praise upon this manga, well, it's because that's exactly what I'm doing. It's *that* good. It starts out unassuming and then just keeps punching far above its weight while making it look effortless and not messing up in the process. It sucks you in before you even realize how good it really is in everything it does. It's a rare miracle of a fun and endearing adventure story about a tightly-knit, lovable group of characters on a quest to save their friend and explore the intricacies of self-sustenance in a dungeon, with incredible art and a satisfying ending. And I wholeheartedly recommend it to everyone.
(Trigger, pls, make the adaptation deserving of the source material!)
