Review by Ian Keogh
Cordelia lives in a small village where her beauty generates jealousy and her knowledge of medicinal herbs helps some, but leads others to label her a witch. However, if indeed she is a witch, she’s not the only one in the village, and things come to an early crisis point when a one-armed servant boy named Collin is the only person with courage enough to speak the truth.
There’s a wispy ethereal quality to the dialogue, with word balloons not always attributed, which makes the early revelation difficult to follow, and it’s crucial to what comes next. That’s Collin accompanying Phillippa, the true witch, as she moves to a new town.
Keeping up with what’s going on isn’t the chore it might be due to the alluring art of MAS, whose amazingly delicate line and way of minimising what’s necessary makes every page look a treat at the start. The sample art contains no backgrounds, which would in other circumstances by a drawback, yet the composition and technique are there to be admired, rendering the backgrounds superfluous, at least to begin with. Over almost 250 pages the choice wears thin despite the skill MAS displays.
After the opening sequence the poignant question sustaining the series is why Phillippa claims to be annoyed by Collin following her around, yet with all her power does nothing about it. A caveat is that he’s immune to the direct effects of her magic, but as is pointed out, plenty of options remain. She enjoys pretending to be human, and adding to what’s already an exceptionally odd relationship, they’re also accompanied by Lilly, the cat able to transform into a little girl. Or perhaps it’s the other way round. Either way, despite their masquerading as human, upsets always follow.
The crux of matters manifests halfway through, when it becomes apparent that the seeming 17th century beginnings weren’t just to conform with fairytales. We’re seeing a progression through history. However, just when that’s figured out Haeyoon pulls the rug and everything changes again. It makes for a very frustrating experience as there’s the sense of something epic taking place, but never adequately explained until a short chapter near the end when Lilly takes over the narration. Over two hundred pages of what at times rambles is long way to work through without a proper explanation, but now that’s been served up the hope is for Flower of Evil to be more accessible.
