While, at first glance, Sui Ishida's work may seem to take concepts liberally from other famous works, the presentation is wholly unique. Inspiration from Mary Shelly and Kafka as well as direct references to Osamu Dazai and Hakushuu Kitahara provide a solid, literary background from which Ishida builds characters and themes all his own. While this manga could be viewed as a love letter to the novelists and poets that helped Ishida develop his writing, it acts on its own as a compelling narrative about the extents of the self and the inevitability (or perhaps even necessity) of sacrifice.
The early chapters of Tokyo Ghoul may be difficult for some to invest in. The artwork is crude, the characters are somewhat one-note, and there is little significant development of the dramatic elements as the horror factor is often favored. These issues do not plague the series for long, however, as by the second and third volumes Ishida has already improved not only as an illustrator, but also as a story teller. Much of this increased quality is thanks to Ishida's hiring of a decent-sized staff to help make the production of the manga more efficient. As we delve deeper and deeper into this series, Ishida's writing and art improve to a point where they are almost unrecognizable when compared to the early panels.
Tokyo Ghoul has oft been criticized as an overly edgy gore-fest that ignores character development and logical storytelling elements in favor of shock value. This argument relies far too heavily on the assumption that the moments of torture and loss within this series exist solely for the purpose of demonstrating physical and emotional harm in exchange for character development. I would challenge such a statement on the grounds that the psychological damage inflicted at pivotal points in the series are only the base from which the character's personalities grow and develop. Physical changes represent the psychological for sure, but statements and actions are directly influenced by previous experience, even when acting in what some may assume is an illogical sense.
Beyond its explicit content, Tokyo Ghoul is important when analyzed as a piece discussing both mental health and gender issues. The characters of Tokyo Ghoul all have very complex psyches that are often put through varying forms of torment. The possible mental disorders and emotional issues of the characters may be easy to distinguish upon first reading, as well as the somewhat mixed gender characteristics of characters like Juuzo, Big Madam, Souta, and many others, but there are still many subtleties in both the art and writing that help add further depth (and much of this is explored in :re).
While Tokyo Ghoul suffers for its rough-around-the-edges approach early on, there is much to enjoy and even more to love as you read each succeeding volume. While often marketed as a horror-shonen, it exudes a lot more similarities to a mystery-thriller with a more mature theme and delivery such as in seinen with showy, battle sequences only peppered in to the story. As an addition, Ishida's short, comedic panels at the end of every volume relieve the tension of intense or depressing scenes and dramatic cliffhangers and prevent the manga from ever seeming as if it has gone too far. Ishida is able to relate to his readers in this way without ever putting a face to his pseudonym. Overall, the series delivers a compelling and thought-provoking character drama that explores themes often considered taboo or too sensitive. It is an enjoyable, if unpolished ride that only prepares one for the improvements made within the sequel...

*B+*