Usagi Yojimbo is one of those titles that I've known about, and heard good things about, for a long time, but I've just never taken the plunge and picked up a trade or an issue. So #61 is really my first issue, save a few shorts in anthology books here and there. Remarkably, I had no trouble understanding what was going on, as Sakai keeps the story nice and accessible, but doesn't sacrifice the sense that this is a deeper book than you might expect from something starring an anthropomorphic rabbit samurai. In addition to the exploration of the culture of feudal Japan, there's a story that centers on family and difficult relationships, and it's a fun "done in one" read.
I'm not sure if I've picked up a lot about the basic concept of Usagi through comics osmosis or if Sakai really is impressively skilled in making a new reader feel welcome. Having read a couple other short stories, I lean toward the latter, because the sense of Usagi's character comes through pretty clearly in the writing and the art. He belongs to the humble warrior archetype, and for all his gentleness with his nephew or even with the enemies he faces, when he enters combat, there's no doubt of his martial skills. That balance makes the character very interesting, and he's surprisingly free of angst, although I get the sense from the letter columns that he has faced more than his fair share of difficult decisions in the past.
In fact, what Sakai's work really reminds me of more than anything else is some of the work of Sergio Aragones. He has the same deceptively simple style that is in fact laden with detail and nuance, and the same ability to use what is on the surface a fairly cartoony style to depict very serious stories. Despite the presence of an anthropomorphic lead character, this is not a light kids book. The cruelty of Japan's feudal society is clear in the opening scene which would value a horse over a young child, and the danger that is part of Usagi's life is clear in his encounter with the ninja.
Sakai's artwork is quite simply phenomenal. The background and fashions bring the reader right into the story, and the characters all have a wonderfully expressive nature that allows Sakai to express subtle emotions like bemusement or worry along with anger or happiness. In addition, he's got some unusual storytelling tricks, including the use of speech balloons and an illustration to indicate a character dying, that cuts down on the number of words needed to tell the story. It's not an exaggeration to call Sakai a master storyteller.
I'll be honest, the talking humanoid animal genre is not one that I usually find to my taste. When a book features an anthropomorphic lead, I usually find myself asking, however good, "Why did there have to be animals?" With Usagi Yojimbo, I didn't really have that reflex. In fact, for some reason it just feels right with this book, and perhaps the more fantastic element helps to make the book's realistic depiction of a dark time less depressing, and instead keeps the balance of dark and light right where it should be.