Twin Spica

In the near-future, the Japanese space program is rebuilding itself from the ashes of the crash of its first rocket. The deeply disillusioned have split off from the project, bitter and guilty, but there are several involved who still desperately want to go into space--even after something so horrific. And they are the ones who bear the backlash from people who think the original project was already an exercise in hubris, for which innocent people paid with their bodies. And, to their credit, hubris certainly rotted out the original project. The Lion accident, and the eventual reveal of layers of bureaucratic incompetence, are clearly inspiredby the Challenger and Columbia Space Shuttle catastrophes. So is the desire to continue exploring despite the losses. The setup for the story sounds formulaic to the point of prohibiting any sort of tension: the ultimate underdog becoming the best through sheer force of will. She has a Past. People are out to sabotage her. She's tiny and not particularly innately talented in any way. But this story never feels stale or contrived. What is so amazing about Asumi is her perseverance. I don't mean in that every-once-in-a-while mega challenge. Asumi succeeds beyond anybody's expectations because she ekes out the same grueling routine, every day, for years on end, without payoff. That is what perseverance really means. It's easy to pull yourself together every now and again, for the big moments. It's amazing to get up every day and push yourself through the same boring, taxing tasks. I am strongly reminded of Tamora Pierce's handling of Alanna, the little girl who would be a knight, throughout the Song of the Lioness series. While Alanna and Asumi have radically different personalities, they are both stubborn and determined, and have to work for their achievements. They're both tiny women working toward a goal that requires considerable physical strength and endurance. And the stories are honest in admitting that they start out at a disadvantage, and that they will have to work hard to even meet expectations. But Alanna and Asumi bust their asses above, and beyond, what is needed to be average--they become exceptional. The best. And most people would not even put in the extra effort just needed to catch up, let alone be the best. Hell, their achievements would be exceptional even if they started on a level playing field. But they didn't. And that's all the more amazing. And women, or members of any minority group, have to be better-than-average to just be perceived as average or barely worthy--and this is also in areas in which women have no average inherent disadvantage, i.e. anything not involving brute strength. We also see a world in which there are far more fully competent applicants for a position than spots, a scenario that should seem entirely familiar as of late, and witness an administration's attempt at choosing who is most 'worthy' for the position with arbitrary brutality. The logic goes: the person who wants it most will go through the most hell to get it, and therefore deserves it, 'it' in this case a place as an astronaut. Though I would not venture to call current Japan, and therefore near-future Japan, feminist, Twin Spica is one of the most gender-egalitarian works I have seen in a while. Tokyo Space School has just as many female students as male. And, it is a feminine-feminist story. Asumi is many of the things that society deems feminine, and, therefore, a sign of weakness--cooperative, humble, affectionate, soft-spoken, shy, prone to liking cute things and fluttery blouses and wispy skirts. She indicates a desire to teach elementary school students. And none of this ever seems discordant with her ambition. This is a true example of magical realism, pulled off with a deft subtlety few would have the nerves to keep. There is a ghost companion-mentor and a visit to the River Styx, but it runs under the surface of a world rooted in hard science fiction. The indignities and realities of astronaut training are part of that world. It has the paper stars pastel aesthetic of a storybook, and I suspect that is why it sold so poorly in the US. Most customers probably thought it was some waffy moe bullshit. It couldn't be further from, and as an atmosphere-setting technique, the art style works very well. I don't know if I could count characters dying of the coughing-up-blood disease with the romantasized aesthetic of consumption as a form of magical realism. The story makes it clear it is not tuberculosis, though it is disquietingly plausible that by that near-future point a totally drug-resistant strain would develop, if our current rate of antibiotic abuse and lack of interest in basic research continues. It's a nebulously-described genetic disorder that makes people artfully cough up crimson during times of stress or exertion, as a visual representation of the refusal to stop in the face of ruinous odds. But, refusal to stop in the face of ruinous odds is a recurring motif in this story. I was sad to hear Vertical had to take the English version out of print due to abysmal sales. Many casual browsers of the manga selection are being denied the chance to stumble on a real gem. I speculate, again, that people completely misjudged the nature of the work based on the art style and the covers. Given the glut of moe crap the past few years, I suppose I can understand that. But, Vertical is releasing the English version in ebook format, so it is still accessible in a way that supports the publisher. I most highly recommend it.

Twin Spica is a by itself, a simple story, about a girl, suffering through life's hardships, but never swaying away and chasing her dreams. This sounds like story you've heard and read countless times, and a story we've learned what to expect from, in the grand scale of things. What makes this story standing out from the others, is how gently and sincerely it's explained, it's seeped with alot of feelings and drenched with bittersweet melancholia, which makes the experience so much more personal and impactful. As mentioned above, the story is straightforward, and you can even call it, stale, if youdon't get emotionally invested into the characters. There are often times where a flashback chapter is being done, explaining certain people's circumstances and motivations, which did helps out tremendously into fleshing out the characters in the long run. The artstyle is perfect, this is something that can instantly drew you in and invoke the manga's feelings and themes to you. The characters are very appealing, and cute, their design has the round curves and oval shapes, added with alot of gentle shadows and beautiful, instantly recognised expressions, which overally evokes feeling of honesty and acceptance. Also, the simplification of the characters' faces when shown from a distance is something that Kou Yaginuma nailed perfectly, you can instantly emphasize and relate to the situation when you see their faces and emotes, created by very few or single strokes, but explaining volumes of content. Also the general background art is phenomenal, and it by itself can make one emotional, spacial care was given to cityskapes, forests and the skies, and the city shots at the start of each chapter perfectly portrays the city in which the main group resides. Character wise, I do believe the characters are what makes this story relatable and evoking your empathy for every single of them. Everyone of the main, and good majority of the minor characters are very likable, and their sorrows and aspirations are presented in a slow, and revealing manner. It can be said that some side characters doesn't get fully developed, but their involvement is more or less to enchance and reinforce some of the themes, we do have enough differentiating personalities from the relaxed and gentle Shu, Fuchiyama, being very stoic but dependable, the shy and introverted Marika, the heart of the party, and the emotional leader of the gang, Kei, and Asumi, who glitters like a tiny star iteself. While not entirely story related, the author decided to include a couple of short stories of himself, his life and his struggles at the end of each volume, called "Another Spica", in which he explains his drives, emotions and gripes he had in his life, and how he got inspired to even write this story in the first place, with the idea that the characters in this manga can be heard or seen on the streets in the real life. This, added with his melancholy and forlornless of his struggles, is something that really made me even more empathetic towards him and his work. All the single cmponents of this work are very good, but as they blend the results are even better. The story is easy to follow, it's pretty gripping ride and yiou'd like to read the next chapter right away. Even though the work tackles topics like how the technological improvements of our age might replace the need of human labour on some places or how the whole country is left scarred from a national tragedy, the manga also keeps it's romantic and vey idealistic aspirations. The topic of dreams is maybe the most major one, and through the eyes of all the characters, theirs are presented. Some of them keep their dreams as the last beacon of hope, others had discarded them long time ago, but they are feeling the weiight of them every single day. This work feels like one, very personal piece, made with alot of hardship, but carrying alot of love and affection. It's sincerety can probably be felt as excessive, and too mellow, but, at least in my case, it managed to shatter my cynical and realistic worldview, for a few brief moments, and made me contemplate. Who knows, after checking this work, you might as well aim for your dreams, desipite the tough road ahead of you.

In most occasions, disappointment is when person starts watching or reading a series and finds out that it is not exactly as good as expected. Sometimes, but gladly rather rarely, disappointment comes with a depth: It is when series that looks like one of the most amazing things to read suddenly changes, and, instead of impressing with its quality, it starts to impress with its lack of quality. This is Twin Spica. Our main character, Asumi, is a sparkle, person who has gone thru the dramas of life, yet never given up. She has a dream to become an astronaut. Quite frankly, it's clear fromthe very beginning that this is not just a dream; she has all the potential to become one. She also has gift; she can see dead astronauts. The series advances from two different perspectives. In one, the story becomes awe-inspiring, feel-good adventure towards realizing Asumi's dream. At the same time, it offers quite an incredible take on the melancholy of the dead. "The numbers aren't random, they are distances from stars in light years." Almost 50% of the run, the manga goes in the exact direction where it should. The typical astronaut training is presented: locked in a room in teams, working underwater to fix electronics. At the same time, relationships and the main character herself getting developed in a way where the series reminds coming-of-age in style. Then things change. Apparently all the million side characters have either one or two of the following things: someone close to them death, unrequired love, a disease. When I say all of them has, I mean exactly everyone of them. For the remaining run, the series focuses on creating identical drama to these identical characters. One is miserable because people die, another because she is about to die, 3rd because She could as well die because He doesn't love Her. It is dreadful. Moreover, this series has nothing to do with astronauts anymore. Instead, the main point has changed to something like "let's learn to let go, but make sure to whine as much as possible before doing so." Maybe I failed understand the point of this series, but I am fairly sure there author didn't have any.