Books
[Anime Horrors] Exploring the Emotional Heartache of Junji Ito’s ‘No Longer Human’
Happy New Year and welcome to the first installment of 2020’s Anime Horrors!
Before diving into the main focus of this article, I want to share my gratitude once again for all of those who enjoy this column. This month marks the one year anniversary of Anime Horrors; it has been such an awesome experience to write about and share anime with all of you. This year I’m excited to once again explore all kinds of titles; from the classics to contemporary works, I’ll be covering a wide variety of amazing shows, movies, and manga. So without further ado, let’s begin.
I am kicking 2020 off with a really special review – Junji Ito’s No Longer Human.
Anyone who knows me, or who has followed this column, knows I love the work of Junji Ito. His drawings and stories elicit a profound unease; his utilizing of line work, shadowing, as well as his understanding of the manga medium, allows him to lure readers into surreal nightmares. But No Longer Human is a different type of horror – it is existential horror of the mind, of mental illness and dread.
No Longer Human not only makes for another fantastic release from Ito, but also marks another venture into adaptation. For those unaware, this manga is based on the 1948 novel of the same name (written by Osamu Dazai). The novel is considered Dazai’s masterpiece, with some even speculating that it acted as his suicide letter. The novel contains an autobiographical quality, addressing themes of emotional and mental suffering associated with Dazai’s life. With his manga adaption, released this past December, Junji Ito not only translates the emotional brutality of Dazai’s novel, but he even elevates its air of despair.
No Longer Human follows Ōba Yōzō (who may have been a stand-in for Dazai). Yōzō narrates the plot to the reader, describing his struggles with addiction, relationships, and mental health. Yōzō is introduced as a child from a prestigious family; due to the pressures set forth by his father, as well as his own anxieties, Yōzō strives to make people like him. His extraneous efforts to clown around serve his needs for external validation; eventually, his clowning around leads him to risky behavior with horrifying consequences.
The “horrifying” in this sense is not that of gruesome visuals or otherworldly beings (though these are present throughout the manga); instead, the core that makes up No Longer Human’s horror is that of a permeating despair. Through Yōzō’s narration, the reader comes to understand his internal workings and warped sense of reality. Though nothing is officially stated in the plot, Yōzō displays symptoms related to anxiety and depression, further building upon his constant state of suffering. As the story progresses, Yōzō’s mental state fluctuates, his warped notions leading him to commit a number of hurtful acts upon others.
For all his own personal torment, however, Yōzō is not that great of a person. He is flawed, even cruel at times. With each new chapter, Yōzō’s life continues to spiral into an existence of heartache. The consequences of his actions, as well as his mental state, come together to create a somber experience where the prospect of hope gradually disappears.
As I was reading the manga, I could not help but think about Lars Von Trier’s 2018 film The House That Jack Built. While that film’s protagonist and Yōzō are significantly different people with different beliefs, the essence of their stories are similar to a fascinating degree. Along with the flashback structure they embrace, both narratives share a spiritual similarity in how their protagonists analyze the world and themselves. In the way Von Trier’s Jack ruminates on life and the actions of human beings, Yōzō does the same. Yōzō’s narration not only provides context to his character, it also elevates the story’s emotional impact – No Longer Human isn’t a story just to be read, but to be felt.
For an artist so well known for his striking visuals, No Longer Human proves to be one of Ito’s more fascinating works in regards to plot. That said, Ito does provide unique and haunting artwork to convey the agony of Yōzō’s life. Unlike his past works, however, he does not dive that deeply into gory body horror. Much of the art involves Ito emphasizing body language, portraying depressive moods and unease. The manner in which he depicts empty eyes and uses shadows to heighten internal turmoil displays a unique expansion upon his craft – that beyond the brutality of the body, Ito’s illustrations are able to translate emotional pain. Additionally, there are a few pages that include interesting uses of color.
There and then Ito provides chilling imagery to coincide with the narrative’s moments of supernatural horror. As Yōzō’s psyche worsens at certain points, his and the reader’s understanding of what’s real and what’s a hallucination become muddy. With his artwork, Ito makes the everyday life of Yōzō come across as a nightmare.
No Longer Human is a large work, its pages just passing the 600 mark. If one approaches this manga assuming it will be like Ito’s past titles, please be aware it is not like such – this is a more psychological, plot driven work. Ito’s masterful artwork, as well as the fascinating story, allow No Longer Human to be a superb experience of emotional horror.
It’s ironic that one year ago I began Anime Horrors with a review of another Junji Ito adaptation, being that of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. I’m very excited about where this column will lead in the new year. I hope you check out Junji Ito’s No Longer Human and I look forward to catching up again next month.
Thanks to Viz Media for providing a review copy of No Longer Human. You can find multiple links to purchase No Longer Human, as well as free preview of the story, here.
There’s a lot of reading left to do in 2026, between the glut of summer releases and the approach of fall, when horror titles get a special push from publishers, but this has already been an incredible year for horror literature.
Some of the biggest names in the genre have turned in outstanding work, rising stars have made their mark, and we’re only halfway through the year.
To celebrate the midway point of 2026, with plenty of horror books still to come, we’re taking a look back at the best horror books we’ve read this year so far, listed alphabetically by author.
If you missed any of these books earlier in the year, consider this your reminder to catch up.
Japanese Gothic by Kylie Lee Baker
A student running from a crime he may or may not have committed escapes to his father’s country home in Japan, only to find himself haunted by strange apparitions, while in the past, a young samurai tries to find salvation for her family and finds a door to the future instead. Kylie Lee Baker’s Japanese Gothic begins with this dialogue between past and present, and then blossoms into so much more, a cross-time ghost story about old wounds and what it really takes to finally heal them. I got so happily lost in this one that I would have read at least 200 more pages.
Persona by Aoife Josie Clements
In this tale of shut-ins, sex workers, artists, and the horrors they both summon and recoil from, Aoife Josie Clements weaves something that feels less like a story to be experienced and more like a psychic wound to be endured, and I mean that in the most complimentary way possible. Evocative in its prose and nightmarish in its imagery, Persona is a story of the masks we wear, and the understanding that not all of our masks are particularly pretty or even easy to breathe through. It’s a dense, literary, unnervingly vicious book, and while it’s already attracted an audience, it deserves a much bigger one.
Dead First by Johnny Compton
Johnny Compton’s latest novel opens with a throwing down of the gauntlet, a sequence that made me instantly think “How on Earth is he going to top this?” It’s a story that begins with a billionaire hiring a private investigator to determine why, despite trying in many brutal ways, he cannot die. That premise, and the scene which sets it all off, is so alluring and delightfully gruesome that you almost can’t believe it’s the way a book begins, and then Compton just keeps going, delivering a supernatural mystery that I could not put down.
Make Me Better by Sarah Gailey
A woman grieving for the life she wanted visits a mysterious island renowned for the healing salt its residents harvest and sell, seeking renewal and relief. What she finds instead is a strange cult with a twisted history with surprising resonance in her own life, and a people who are more than willing to grant the relief she wants, for a price. Laced with beautiful prose and moments of profound realization alongside folk and even cosmic horror, this is vintage Sarah Gailey.
Partially Devoured by Daniel Kraus
If you love horror film history and analysis, Partially Devoured is an essential. Written by Pulitzer Prize-winner Daniel Kraus, the book is a deep dive into his favorite movie of all time, George A. Romero‘s Night of the Living Dead, complete with exhaustive research into the making of the film and passages of deeply moving memoir woven in. If you’ve ever wanted to know what the eerie music that opens the film is called while also bursting into tears at how horror movies can save your life, this is a must-read.
Wretch by Eric LaRocca
Our reigning King of Extreme Horror, Eric LaRocca weaves books of uncommon beauty out of the most nightmarish parts of humanity, and Wretch is no exception. The story of a grieving man who longs for relief and searches for it amid a strange support group that might be a cult, Wretch is a brutal journey into the darkest part of us all, and explores what salvation we might find when we get to the rotten core of the world and peel back its layers. LaRocca’s on a tear of great work right now that few other genre writers can match.
Headlights by CJ Leede
A mystery, a serial killer horror show, a tribute to Stephen King‘s The Shining. All of these things describe CJ Leede’s Headlights, and yet they don’t begin to cover the full breadth of horror awaiting you in this novel. The story of a former FBI agent drawn back into the cold case that haunts him most, it’s a shocker brimming over with vivid moments that’ll live behind your eyes. CJ Leede has now published three novels, and they’re all bangers, so it’s time to get on board if you haven’t already.
It Came From Neverland by Cynthia Pelayo
Cynthia Pelayo has been one of our finest genre writers for years now, but It Came From Neverland is my favorite thing she’s written, and it’s not even close. A dark take on Peter Pan from the perspective of an adult Wendy Darling living in World War I-era London, Pelayo’s book works as both a satisfying horror narrative and a rich exploration of what it really means to never grow up. The horror never loses its potency, but it’s the search for the meaning behind the Peter Pan phenomenon in our own lives, and what we can do about it, that sticks with me most.
Filth Eaters by Ito Romo
Ito Romo’s Filth Eaters is a slim volume, one you can read in just a couple of hours if you’ve got the inclination, but it has the feel of a generation-spanning epic. The story of a breed of vampires born in Central America, the European vampires who encounter them, and the offspring they eventually produced, it spans centuries and packs loads of juicy lore into its pages while never losing its grip on character and narrative drive. I would read hundreds more pages of this world, but I’ll settle for this uncommonly grand-scale novella for now.
Dead But Dreaming of Electric Sheep by Paul Tremblay
A former pro gamer gets a job at a tech company to pilot a brain-dead human body across the country, and so Paul Tremblay’s sci-fi-horror juggernaut begins. Indebted to Philip K. Dick, the primal snarl of Harlan Ellison, and the quirky comedy of The Big Lebowski, and yet wholly original, this is a towering and ambitious novel by one of horror’s most respected voices. What starts as a high-concept tech thriller soon becomes a startling meditation on the value of stories, who gets to tell them, and what happens when we cede too much control to machines we don’t understand. It’s a stunner.
You must be logged in to post a comment.