The Spring 2023 Manga Guide

Tsugumi Project

What's It About? 

More than two centuries have passed since Japan was devastated by nuclear war. Cut off from the world, the island is now a place of terror and mysteries: wonders of science some believe best forgotten, monuments to a bygone era of human decadence, and irradiated monsters ready to tear apart any humans foolish enough to set foot there.

After being wrenched from his family and falsely convicted, a French soldier of fortune named Leon finds himself on a cargo plane to Japan. He and his fellow convicts are given one year to locate a powerful weapon from ages past—a weapon known only by the codename TORATSUGUMI—in exchange for their freedom. But what is the true nature of this weapon, and how is it connected to the taloned, half-human girl who swoops in to save Leon?

Tsugumi Project has story and art by ippatu, with English translation by Ko Ransom, and lettering by Phil Christie. Additional French translation by Madison Salters. Kodansha Comics will release the first volume on May 23.

Is It Worth Reading?

Rebecca Silverman

Rating:

Originally published in French by Ki-oon, Tsugumi Project wears its influences on its sleeves. The creator worked with Jiro Taniguchi and drew inspiration from French comic artist Nicholas de Crécy, which shines through in the intricate, detailed background art and animal/human hybrid character designs. If you're not familiar with de Crécy's work, definitely give it a Google, because it's impressive how beautifully ippatu has taken inspiration from his style while still maintaining his own. In the interview at the end of the volume, ippatu is particularly impressed by the full-color French BD (bandes-desinées, the French word for comics), and this certainly shows in the extensive color section that opens the volume. While the black-and-white art is good, the color art is truly spectacular.

The story also feels more like a BD than a manga in terms of how it unfolds. The French sensibility is present in protagonist Leon's mindset and the way the pages are set up. It's hard to describe, but if you've read both, you'll recognize the little storytelling details that make this work different. (An easy comparison is to look at The Guardian of Fukushima, a French comic released in English by Tokyopop.) The level of grit may be part of this, with an uncomfortable air of realism overlaying the depiction of a nuclear-ravaged Tokyo. Unlike many Japanese-first publications, there is no notion of nature shining through; everything, including nature and humanity, has been ravaged. Despite the eponymous Tsugumi's existence, there isn't much hope to be found.

With Leon in Japan under duress, falsely accused of espionage, and forcibly separated from his wife and unborn child, hope is something he desperately needs. Instead, he has determination: the French government informed him that an old weapon called “toratsugumi” is somewhere in Japan, and he will find it to reclaim his family and life, no matter what. As someone with a rudimentary grasp of Japanese, he hasn't yet realized that Tsugumi, the bird girl, has a tiger monster (tora) with her. Nonetheless, he begins to figure out that the ape creatures speak a rudimentary or evolved form of language, suggesting that they either evolved from apes or devolved from humans due to radiation.

This is a book that I like more the longer I think about it; in fact, I've bumped up my rating twice while writing this. It's a dark and fascinating combination of BD and manga. Whatever language you read it in, I simply think it's worth reading.

Christopher Farris

Rating:

To hear author Ippatsu tell it in the appreciably detailed interview at the back of this volume, Tsugumi Project had several inspirations, including the 2011 Fukushima disaster. That's reflected in the book's post-apocalyptic premise predicated on a radiation-wrecked Japan. But if that's the genesis, the engaging factor of the Tsugumi Project mostly seems to be Ippatsu wanting to draw some outrageously detailed backgrounds of said ruined country. We start with gorgeous full-color spreads of the destroyed vistas, which only a few pages of the book pass before another meticulously rendered, screwed-up cityscape takes up the page, dwarfing our leading man Leon.

It's all in line to benefit from Ippatsu's honestly impressive skill, highlighted by things like a reading-direction reveal of the titular Tsugumi's crazy bird legs, which is a confidently ambitious artistic choice in its own right. It gets to the point where the more pedantic members of the audience might question if we need a massive establishing city shot every few pages, but this is an art book; we don't need anything apart from being impressed by the ability on display and how it's woven into the storytelling. Spend enough time on the flow and atmosphere of the plot, and you'll understand how those massive shots of ruined exteriors and city streets regularly serve to sell the comforting emptiness of it. This contrasts with the points where inhuman monsters swarm Leon. Tiny details, such as Tsugumi's collection of trinkets, can be highlighted as environmental stories to tell just as effectively as the actual massive environments. The detailed designs devolve into a looser, sketchier style in service of shots depicting sudden violence from lion/tiger/bear creatures.

The story itself has the barest piques of potential at this point. It's a survival story about Leon, with a little bit of backstory motivation around a deeper mystery to uncover. But that's firmly secondary to the atmosphere and action of the visuals at this point. Importantly, Tsugumi Project is good enough to be recommendable by that standard. For me, it's a fascinating demonstration of craft and an indication of how much you can achieve with relatively little, as long as you draw the absolute best out of the "little" you're working with at the start.

Jean-Karlo Lemus

Rating:

There's something rich and intriguing about this post-apocalyptic adventure into ruined Tokyo. As the Frenchman Leon seeks information that might earn him his freedom in a ruined city, the enigmatic Tsugumi and Tora dog his every step. This very much feels like Blue Submarine No. 06 if it were a bande desinées, from the lavish art of a ruined Tokyo reclaimed by the wilderness to the many wild beast-folk inhabiting the city and threatening Leon. Much like Blue Submarine No. 06, the story is quite light—much of this volume is dedicated to Leon simply establishing himself and getting the basic tools he needs to say alive, after all. And yet, the journey still feels so much more than just the words on pages. Leon doesn't need to exposit, Tsugumi doesn't need to spill her entire backstory, and Tora doesn't need pithy one-liners. It's man versus nature set against man versus society.

With the decreased emphasis on the writing, the art is what really needed to shine, and ippatu's work shines. Even the hordes of ape-folk swarming around Leon and Doudou manage to feel vibrant and memorable. And while fights aren't terribly brutal or gruesome (outside of the visceralness of a knife getting stabbed in a giant ape's face), it still feels impactful whenever someone takes a swing. And, of course, Tsugumi is there to dazzle in her bizarre mishmash of human physique with actual bird legs.

Even if it's just for the art, this book earns a strong recommendation from me. This is definitely an adventure to keep an eye on. I'm already itching for a second volume.