From the back cover:
Yukari Morita is a high school girl on a quest to find her missing father. While searching for him in the Solomon Islands, she receives the offer of a lifetime—she’ll get the help she needs to find her father, and all she need do in return is become the world’s youngest, lightest astronaut. Yukari and her half-sister Matsuri, also petite, are the perfect crew for the Solomon Space Association’s launches, or will be once they complete their rigorous and sometimes dangerous training.
Review:
I was really looking forward to reading Rocket Girls. I’ve long been intrigued by VIZ Media’s venture into Japanese sci-fi, Haikasoru, but this is the first title in the lineup that I’ve read (unless you count Brave Story, which I read before it was grandfathered into the imprint). Alas, I ended up disappointed.
The basic plot is that Yukari Morita, a high school student weighing 37 kg. (81 lbs.) has traveled to the Solomon Islands during summer vacation to search for her deadbeat father. She ends up meeting scientists from the Solomon Space Association just when they’ve determined that they need a really light person to pilot their rocket, and when the director promises to help her find her father, she agrees. Later, her similarly petite half-sister Matsuri joins up to serve as backup. The SSA folks have a lot of trouble getting a rocket into orbit, but eventually succeed (sort of) and Yukari becomes a national hero.
I guess I was hoping for the novel equivalent of Twin Spica or something, but Rocket Girls doesn’t even come close to achieving the passion and poignancy on display in that series. In fact, it almost totally lacks any depth whatsoever. The book is about 80% dialogue, with very little insight into Yukari’s thoughts, let alone anyone else’s. As a result, many of the characters’ reactions and decisions are inexplicable. Here are some examples:
- The director of the space program, Isao Nasuda, calls up Yukari’s mother to obtain her permission for Yukari to become an astronaut. Without asking any questions at all, her mother agrees. I could accept a similarly carefree mom in a manga comedy, but it’s harder to swallow in a sci-fi novel.
- Very quickly, Yukari finds her father, who had no idea she even existed (having disappeared during his honeymoon). His reaction? “How about that?” What, that’s it?!
- Yukari decides she doesn’t fancy dying in an unsafe spacecraft, but her father won’t come back to Japan with her if she outright quits, so she decides to gain weight so that Matsuri will have to take her place. And then, suddenly, she’s done with that idea. I think this is because one of the scientists guys waxed poetic about his spacefaring dreams, but I’m not sure.
- Yukari then decides to become hyper-vigilant about the safety of the craft and goes on a hunger strike protesting some new fuel mixture. And then later, when she’s strapped in and ready to take off, the team finds a problem. Her response? “If we let every little thing scare us, we’ll never launch.” Uh, then what was that whole protest about? She even had a sign.
At first, I was bothered that none of the adults seemed to have any empathy for Yukari. They treated her as a tool and spoke dispassionately of bringing her to her breaking point so they could test the jungle-survival capabilities of the new skintight spacesuit they’d designed for her. But then I realized that I had lost all empathy for Yukari, too! Probably I was supposed to care when she nearly died during the flight, but I did not. I just wanted the book to end. After a kind of cool but very brief visit to Mir, I got my wish.
Is one slightly nifty bit near the end enough to recommend the book? I think not. There is also a sequel, but I’ve no intention of reading it.
DAVID: I’m not quite sure what the deal is with my pick. Shigeru Mizuki’s Onward Towards Our Noble Deaths (Drawn & Quarterly) came out months ago via Diamond, but it’s apparently just hitting Midtown on Wednesday. As I noted in my review, it strikes me as a little odd to go deep and dark before giving Mizuki’s best-known work a proper English-language release, but it’s certainly better than no Mizuki at all. This autobiographical tale of ill-used soldiers serving in the Pacific at the end of World War II isn’t quite as grim as it sounds, but it’s hardly a beach read. It’s deeply heartfelt, though, and it’s fascinating to see Mizuki apply his distinctive style to this kind of material. For those interested in the full scope of how manga can be used, this is essential reading. And if it succeeds commercially, maybe we’ll get GeGeGe no Kitaro.
MICHELLE: My pick is about as far from David’s as possible. It’s probably going to be exceedingly silly, but I am looking forward to the first volume of Bad Teacher’s Equation. It’s by Kazuma Kodaka, whose Kizuna I’ve really begun to enjoy, and is an older series, originally started in 1993. It’s a longer series, too, with its original ten volumes condensed to five for the bunko edition, which is what DMP has licensed. I admit the plot doesn’t sound thrilling—a high schooler enrolls in a particular school in order to reunite with his crush, the school nurse, but it seems the fellow is no longer as friendly as he once was and is maybe someone else altogether—but I suspect it will be a fun read anyway.
MJ: Probably my real choice would be to agree with David, whose review of Onward Towards Our Noble Deaths has made me quite anxious to pick it up, but I noticed another item on the list that intrigues me at least a little, so I’ll give it a spotlight here. I quite enjoyed Tooko Miyagi’s angsty BL melodrama, Il Gatto sul G when I 







MICHELLE: Now that you mention it, I am experiencing an odd tingle, so I’m going to take that as an invitation to begin! My reads this week provoked wildly different reactions in me. One was epic and impressive while the other was icky and confusing. Saving the best for last, I shall begin with the latter.
MJ: You know, I do! I liked both my reads this week, but I’ll start with one I know you’ve read and liked as well to help with that cleansing. I’m talking about
MICHELLE: I know that you, historically, have not had an easy time getting into Eiichiro Oda’s One Piece, but I have to say, it really is a stunning piece of storytelling. Oda has created not just a cast of likable characters, but a fully realized world for them to inhabit, and in this world, conflict has long been brewing between the pirates and the navy.
MJ: Well, I’m way behind, but I finally read the third volume of Natsume Ono’s
MICHELLE: It’s a bountiful week at Midtown Comics, with many Shonen Jump and Shojo Beat offerings from VIZ making their way onto the shelves. There’s an awful lot on this list that I am personally planning to buy, and singling out just one is pretty tough. New volumes of One Piece and Slam Dunk are serious contenders, but in the end, the fifth volume of
DAVID: Viz really could learn to pace itself. I’m quite eager to read the third volume of Kamisama Kiss and curious to see which way the pendulum will swing on Grand Guignol Orchestra, not to mention the previously mentioned books, but I’m going to have to cast my vote for the 14th volume of Osamu Tezuka’s 









DAVID: Indeed I did! When not hiking the canyons of southern Utah or trying to figure out how the lights worked in a Las Vegas hotel, I was paying a visit to CLAMP Land.
No, I just finished the fourth volume of
MJ: This week, I finally caught up with volume seven of Kou Yaginuma’s charming series,
MICHELLE: I have lately been loving the heck out of SangEun Lee’s manhwa series, 



MJ: So, Michelle, first of all, welcome to Manga Bookshelf! I must say, it feels like you’ve always been here.

