"What now?" is the dilemma some fresh graduates experience. On the surface, the issue seems extremely trivial and somewhat privileged. The graduates who experience this must have the luxury to hesitate and question the world around them instead of just plunging headfirst into the cool and foreboding waters of society to make ends meet and survive. Which, I acknowledge, is fair criticism. However, that does not invalidate the legitimacy and emotions felt by those graduates. There is actual meat to what they contemplate over. It is a question of meaning. And it's a personal question. Feeling trapped in a dead end situation because the path you chose wasn't the one you were passionate about; it was the practical decision. How does one deal with that feeling? That's what Solanin is all about.

Enter the main character, Meiko. She's the girl who's looking for an answer. She's not happy with her job, her coworkers suck, and her boss hits on her in his spare time. The story starts in the critical moment when Meiko realizes that she needs to get out of her ditch, which she does. The problem is that living in a big city like Tokyo doesn't come cheap and this puts pressure on her boyfriend, Taneda, who hasn't really gotten into the habit of integrating himself with society yet.

That's because Taneda also suffers the same blues Meiko has except there's a sense that he's been ignoring it. He lives in a nebulous state where he's only working part-time and still jams with his college band. He's got one foot in the "real world" and another one in the past, reluctant of letting the easier times go. He has a hint of passion for music but isn't all too sure about himself, which is why things go topsy-turvy once Meiko breaks it to him that she quit her job. Now, it's a question of whether he goes for a stable job or risks it all on music.

It's a search for some faint trace of fulfillment in the face of such an unflinching world. Yet, this alone does not make Solanin good. That's just the set up; the heart of the story lies in the way it ticks. How the characters interact and speak with each other feel natural and real. There are enough quirks to differentiate when someone is talking to a friend or someone they're not too close to. There are moments when the dialogue is a bit too contemplative for casual talk, but it never comes off as out of place or pretentious. All their actions and conversations organically flow with their personalities.

The typical Asano visual flare is also there to spark enough absurdity and kookiness to give the manga some levity to balance out the overpowering rawness of the emotional scenes. In those scenes, the emotions rush and pulse feverishly without restraint as if to burst out in an explosion of anxiety, melancholy, and frustration. But then, the manga also knows how to step back to let you breathe and allow the heavier moments to sink in.

All of these factors give real depth and power to the endeavors and experiences of Meiko and Taneda. It allows the audience to relate, or at least empathize, with the struggles and heartaches in this manga. Whether or not Meiko and Taneda find an answer--whether or not any of us find an answer--we can find solace in the fact that these emotions and struggles are not artificially strung. They're real. The pain, the hardships, the loses, they all stand as evidence that we feel and our feelings are real. If anything, this manga gives us something genuine to anchor ourselves on.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a college student, a fresh grad, or a high school student, as long as you’re looking for meaning, give this manga a read. It doesn’t have the answer you’re looking for, but it’s going to be with you until you find it.