What would it be like to embark on a deep space voyage, knowing that when you returned, nothing on Earth would be as you remembered it? That’s the question at the heart of Makoto Shinkai and Mizu Sahara’s Voices of a Distant Star, a thoughtful — if sometimes clumsy — rumination on the human toll of interstellar travel.
The story begins in 2046, as sixteen-year-old Noboru Terao anxiously awaits text messages from his childhood friend Mikako Nagamine, who’s enlisted in the military. As we learn through snippets of conversation and text, Nagamine isn’t at a conventional boot camp: she’s been deployed to Mars, where humanity is preparing for a lengthy campaign against an alien race known as the Tharsians. Her early exchanges with Noboru arrive in a matter of days or weeks, but when she’s transferred to the front lines, she realizes that it may be years before Noboru receives her next text; as she ruefully observes, “By the time this message reaches you, everyone will be growing up into people I don’t know.”
The emotional honesty of their epistolary romance is the best reason to read Voices of a Distant Star. Through their brief exchanges, we grasp that Noboru and Nagamine are torn between the desire for a normal relationship and the dawning realization that they may be better off pursuing their own destinies — a realization made more poignant by the sharp contrast between Noboru’s ordinary school life and Nagamine’s extraterrestrial mission. Their dilemma would be more moving, however, if the artwork wasn’t executed in such a desultory fashion. The characters are utterly generic, lacking any semblance of individuality, while the space combat lacks any sense of place; the story could just as easily be unfolding in Phoenix, AZ as on a planet eight light years from Earth. I know — the story is supposed to give me the feels, not the chills — but a little more attention to the dangerous aspects Nagamine’s mission would have raised the emotional temperature of Voices of a Distant Star from mild to muy caliente. In spite of these artistic shortcomings, Noboru and Nagamine’s plight remains powerful, reminding us that our greatest obstacle to space travel isn’t distance — it’s time. Recommended.
Voices of a Distant Star
Story by Makoto Shinkai, Art by Mizu Sahara
Translated by Melissa Tanaka
Vertical Comics, 238 pp.
Aaron says:
Thanks again as always for posting my review To Your Eternity Volume Three also came out as well (I even reviewed it) didn’t see it listed. oh well, everything can’t be covered and that is fine.
Katherine Dacey says:
Hi, Aaron — I will add your To Your Eternity review to next week’s line-up. It’s a great series that deserves all the praise — and attention! — it can get.
Aaron says:
Oh thanks, I still don’t what the process for review selection is as I’ve had reviews I’m rather proud of not get picked in the past. And not said anything as I felt saying anything would feel like shameless self-promotion on my part while also a seeming impolitic, rude, or ungrateful again thanks a lot.
To Your Eternity is actually one of the few series that survived the recent culling of my pull list(I’ve gone from 32 to 17 series I’m currently reading) along with several other titles.
Also as per My Anime List Juana and the Dragonewt’s Seven Kingdoms is done at three volumes it wrapped publication on Feb 15, 2018. So it’s not a huge commitment.
Katherine Dacey says:
Hi, Aaron! There is no “process”; I visit sites around the web once or twice per week, which means that plenty of stuff falls through the cracks. If I’ve missed one of your manga reviews, let me know! (FYI: I’ve tried to limit the scope of my link-blogging to manga, so I generally don’t link to light novel reviews.)
Aaron says:
Oh ok thanks, I just didn’t want to come off as one of those entitled people who feel that he must be showered with attention for merely existing or putting their ideas on the internet. If I wrote something I think is good and it’s not listed I’ll let you know in the future.
Katherine Dacey says:
No worries, Aaron! Every blogger I know — myself included — knows that feeling of disappointment when you write something you’re proud of, and no one seems to notice. I wrestle with this feeling ALL THE TIME. It’s an occupational hazard of blogging!