Showing posts with label Ashibe Taku | 芦辺拓. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ashibe Taku | 芦辺拓. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 30, 2023

The Burning Question

"Match wits with Ellery Queen and see if you can guess whodunnit"
"Ellery Queen (avant-title)"

I don't have that many books with bright yellow covers I think....

One of my favorite reads last year was Ashibe Taku's Oomarike Satsujin Jiken ("The Oomari Family Murder Case"), which in a way was the quintessential Ashibe novel, because I think it might be the book where he managed to combine all his personal tropes/interests and the mystery plot the best. Many of his book have very detailed historical and literary references, often ones that only the fans will understand, and while sometimes I think it goes a bit too far, it was handled extremely well in Oomarike Satsujin Jiken, a story that was set in war-time Osaka (the city of Osaka also being a major theme of Ashibe's books) about the downfall of the Oomari family during the war, one of the many merchant families in Osaka, focusing on its female members who stay behind to hold the fort while the men were sent to war. The way the book blended the historical setting and the Trojan Women-esque story with a mystery plot that could've only worked in that specific setting was really good, and to me, it really felt like the work where all these Ashibe tropes came together the best.

Ashibe Taku's Meitantei wa Dare da ("Who is the Great Detective?", 2022) is many ways very unlike what I'd normally expect of an Ashibe work, and almost the complete opposite in tone and approach compared to Oomarike Satsujin Jiken.  The book is a short story collection, and the premise of the book is that the stories are everything but (straight) whodunnits, and yet they are, in a way, still whodunnits. As the title of the book already suggests, the seven stories in this book are not about whodunnit, as in, who committed the crime, but the stories turn the question around, and presents the reader with variants. In one story, the question is who shall be murdered, instead of whodunnit, and while in a different story, you are actually asked to deduce which of the suspects isn't a culprit, because the rest of the suspects in fact are all conspiring criminals! And of course, the final story, the title story, has you even guess which of the "suspects" in the story is in fact a detective. So the stories are whodunnits, but not in the way you'd expect!

When I say that this book is very much unlike a work you'd expect from Ashibe though, I do have to say right now that's especially noticable when it comes to the matter of the "depth" of the stories. For this book is really short, and each story is over before you know it. The stories all follow a similar set-up too, starting in media res with the narrator (each time a different person) finding themselves in a pressing situation which forces to guess their special variant of whodunnit, and once the set-up is explained to the reader, it basically immediately advances to the solution. Each story moves at a very fast pace, but also very much just revolve around one single trick or idea, Where other short stories I read by Ashibe often had very deeply fleshed-out historical settings or more engaging "fluff" around the core plot with for example literary references, the stories in Meitantei wa Dare da are all so focused on their single-idea-per-story, each story is basically a hit or miss. Either you like the idea or not, and there's little more to a story to feel anything about, almost like one trick ponies. So whether you'll like this book, will depend very much on the mystery of each individual story, and only on that, because that's all the meat on the bones.

And because all stories are quite short, I don't think it's wise to introduce them one by one as I usually do because by the time I'm done you basically already know 3/4 of the stories. But to briefly pick up a few: the first story is titled Hannin de nai no wa dare ("Who is Not the Culprit?") and has perhaps the funnest reversal of the whodunnit concept. The narrator is the nephew of a money lender with some enemies, and because his uncle is dying and he will inherit, the narrator suddenly learns some people who borrow money are very willing to kill to escape their debts. Making use of a coupon to stay at a remotely located inn, the narrator happens to overhear three of the other guests at the inn conspiring to kill him because he'll inherit his uncle's money lending business, but the narrator can't get a look at their faces nor does he get to hear the voices really well. Due to the remote location, he can't just get away on foot, so the next morning, he looks around the breakfast hall, staring at the four other guests having their first meal. For if there are three conspirators, it means the fourth must be not connected, so the narrator wants to ask them for help before the three culprits will do something to him. Ultimately, the plot is very much a 'figure out who is not lying' type of plot, but the set-up is really funny. Another memorable one is Ikinokotta no wa dare ("Who Survived?"), where a reporter is put on the trail of a group of missing persons who seem to have no connection whatsoever, but who all have been invited to the same, remotely located hotel. When he arrives there however, the building suddenly catches fire and is lost completely. However, the police find traces people have been killed in the guest rooms, and the whole set-up reminds them of those death game stories, where people are lured together and somehow enticed to kill each other. But a clue sets the reporter on a trail that makes them suspect one of them faked their death, but which of them? Again a story that revolves very much about one trick/one clue, though I think the "big" clue in this story is better than the one in Hannin de nai no wa dare.

Other stories have titles like Kaitou wa dare da ("Who is the Phantom Thief?"), Tsukamaru no wa dare da ("Who Will be Arrested?") and Wana wo Kakeru no wa dare da ("Who Sets the Trap?"), so you can probably imagine what kind of stories that will be. Some stories are very straightforward in the way they handle the title theme (Who is the Phantom Thief? will probably not suprise you in terms of how the story goes), some stories are a bit more surprising, like the title story, where the detective is actually the "bad guy" because one of the guests at a hotel is an operative working for a foreign dictatorship looking for a political activist who is lying low in Japan.

You can tell author Ashibe has fun with these stories and some of the seven stories have clever twists or a well hidden clue that makes you go "aha!' when you reach the end, but still, it does feel like he could've gotten more out of the whole concept of the book, because each story is just so... light. At first I even thought that these stories had perhaps been serialized in a non-mystery magazine (so for a general audience) and that's why they were so short and very much about one single idea each time, but apparently, this was a straight-to-book release. I can imagine Ashibe wrote this lighter experience in between his bigger, more developed projects with tons of historical and literary research behind it, like a short 'rest' period between his heavier works, but I can't help wondering what he could've gotten out of the concept if it had the 'depth' of many of his other works.

Don't get me wrong though. I did like Meitantei wa Dare da as a read, and it was fun each time to see how the whodunnit angle would be changed, but I read this book between other, longer/"weightier" books so it was perfect for me as a breather read. As a mystery short story collection though, it's not exactly what you'd expect from Ashibe based on other works I have read, and it'll probably feel a bit lean on the bones for many readers, even if the core premise is definitely entertaining. So not a bad read, but I think the premise is still better than the execution.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓『名探偵は誰だ』

Wednesday, May 18, 2022

For Whom the Ball Tolls

Tempus fugit

Authors of mystery fiction often have certain tropes that are often found in their work. Many of them are about plotting techniques. John Dickson Carr is often associated with locked room murders and other impossible murders, while you're likely to find Queenian reasonings in the stories written by writers like Alice Arisugawa. It's often such tropes that actually attract readers to certain writers, as they know what they can expect from a certain book or writer. Another type of recurring tropes are not the actually plotting techniques, but story-related themes. Some might like to involve romantic subplots for example, or have their stories set in a certain place and time. Ashibe Taku is one of those writers who has a very distinct set of such story themes that you're likely to find in any randomly selected story by him and vice-versa, once you have read a few of his stories you'll immediately know the themes he likes to write about in his mystery stories. The easiest themes to identify are the literary and historical references in his stories. As far as I know, Murder in the Red Chamber is the only full-length novel by Ashibe available in English at the moment, but that too is an excellent example of his themes, as the book is based on the Chinese 18th century classic Dream of the Red Chamber, and naturally full of references to both the literary work itself, as well as historical references and research. The historical and literary references are naturally also found in his pastiche series The Exhibition of Great Detectives (1 and 2), which features crossovers between famous fictional detective, but even a book like Wadokei no Yakata no Satsujin ("The Japanese Clock Mansion Murders", 2000), set in modern times, will show off the literary and historical research does for his books. A third common trope in Ashibe's work is the city of Osaka, to be exact, the old Osaka, not the metropolis it has become now, but the old commercial modern city it became after the industrial revolution and that is now slowly disappearing as the current Osaka is becoming more like a gigantic metropolis like Tokyo. In works like Satsujin Kigeki no Modern City ("A Murder Comedy In The Modern City", 1994) he explores a bustling 1920s Osaka, while in Toki no Misshitsu ("A Locked Space in Time", 2001). he explores the change of Osaka by having his series detective Morie Shunsaku tackle two case, one set in the Osaka of 2001 and one set in the Osaka of the nineteenth century. One can easily sense Ashibe's love for the old Osaka in all of his works.

Of the works by Ashibe I have read, Oomarike Satsujin Jiken ("The Oomari Family Murder Case", 2021) is in a way his best effort in combining all the three themes mentioned above with a classic mystery plot and I am not the only one: the book recently won this year's Mystery Writers of Japan Award, and a few days after I finished reading the book, it was announced that Ashibe also won this year's Honkaku Mystery Award with Oomarike Satsujin Jiken (the latter together with Yonezawa Honobu's 2021 novel Kokuroujou ("The Castle with the Dark Prison") AKA The Arioka Citadel Case). So at least critically, Oomarike Satsujin Jiken has been received very well, and I myself can see why. Ashibe's works are featured on this blog relatively often, so I have read my share of his work and while I myself do like literary references, I can't deny that at times, the deep literary and historical references featured in his works are a bit too deep. Sometimes, parts of his work feel like they're screaming "Look, this is a really obscure reference only very few people will understand" at you, so his novels feel a bit too "for fans only" at times. This is not the case with Oomarike Satsujin Jiken, where the references to literature, the historical setting and Osaka do have synergy and really elevate the mystery plot, making the complete package a greater whole than the sum of its parts. It is one of Ashibe's best mystery books that makes good use of his favorite tropes, making it, at this moment, the go-to-book if you want try out his work and get a good idea of his writing, I think.

Oomarike Satsujin Jiken starts with a short prologue set in 1906, when young Oomari Sentarou disappears mysteriously during a visit to the Panorama near Osaka's Namba Station. The disappearance of Sentarou, the heir of Oomari Pharmacy, was perhaps a sign to the immenent decay of the once well-known family of merchants. Decades ago, Oomari Pharmacy was a household name in Osaka when it came to medicine, but recently, they had moved to selling make-up too, which was a brilliant business move. The Oomari family lived in Semba, the commercial centre of Osaka, brimming with other merchants and their apprentices. Sentarou was never found, and years later, his sister Kiyoe and her husband Shigezou became the new heads of the family, leading the Oomaris during dangerous times. For over thirty years after Sentarou's disappearance, World War II would begin and eventually, Japan would involve themselves in the war too. It's during this time the decline of Oomari Pharmacy starts: importing make-up had slowly become impossible and the act of selling make-up itself was deemed a very anti-nationalistic deed, so it didn't take long for Oomari Pharmacy to get into financial problems. Once a name known throughout the city, by the time the war was in full swing, Oomari Pharmacy had only one real apprentice (a so-called "Decchi") left in the shop, where all they could do was sell amenity kits for soldiers. What was even more worrying was that the future of the Oomari family itself was uncertain. Second son Shigehiko, who was suppose to take the company over, had been drafted and sent away to the battlefield already, while oldest son Taiichirou, a doctor, had been drafted too as an army doctor. Taichirou's wife Mineko decides to move to the Oomari home during the war while awaiting her husband, where she gets badly along with sister-in-law Tsukiko, and very well along with her young sister-in-law Fumiko. All they can do is hold the fort until the war is over and Taichirou and Shigehiko return, but it is in 1945, in the last months of the war, that disaster strikes at the Oomari home. After an attack on Tsukiko, the body of patriarch Shigezou is found in his room, hanging from the ceiling. While it doesn't seem like anyone would have a reason to kill him, there are clear signs that indicate this wasn't a suicide or accident, but as times passes by, more members of the family are killed in gruesome manners. Meanwhile, Mineko, as the wife of the oldest son, finds herself being pushed into the role of the one carrying the family, but luckily she finds that her old classmate, Nishi Natsuko, is a training as a doctor at the local doctor, and she turns out to be a powerful ally as they both try to figure out who is killing the members of the Oomari family and why.

While the book opens with a very Rampo-esque trope (the visit to the Panorama), who was a very Tokyo-focused writer, Oomarike Satsujin Jiken quickly becomes a tale that focuses truly on the old Osaka that doesn't exist anymore: the traditional commercial district of Semba really comes alive in the pages of this book, with most characters speaking in the old Semba-dialect, utilizing a lot of local culture like the decchi apprenticeships in the plot, highlighting a lot of the cultural, social and economic changes as World War II starts to near its conclusion. Literary references are also plenty abound, though most of them are specially about mystery literature, as both Shigehiko and his young sister Fumiko are fans of mystery fiction and we see a lot of works of mystery mentioned, often with their old translation titles that aren't in use anymore nowadays. The tone the book takes betrays Ashibe's deep anti-war sentiments and makes the tale of the slow, but certain fall of the Oomari family even more tragic. Oomarike Satsujin Jiken is a mystery novel foremost, but it does a great job at presenting a "historical, war-time Osaka" novel, a theme Ashibe loves, and at least for me, the book had enough themes and topics I had never heard about that really made this an educational, and interesting read. Whereas historical or literary references in other Ashibe stories sometimes feel too much like references "by a fan, for fans", making them not as accessible to the general public, I think the focus on the fall of the Oomaris during the war and using the old Osaka as its backdrop works great, giving the book a much wider appeal (which might explain why it won the earlier mentioned awards).

And as I mentioned before, there's great synergy between these themes and the core mystery plot, which makes Oomarike Satsujin Jiken a memorable read. The book feels very much like a Yokomizo Seishi-novel when it comes to the structure of the mystery, and there's one murder that even invokes the grotesque murder scenes seen in the Kindaichi Kousuke series, with a body found inside a barrel with sake halfway through the book. But most deaths are not as "visually memorable" and to be honest, the actual murders themselves are often quite simple and you will likely have seen variants of them elsewhere. The first murder for example, where the victim is found hanging from a high ceiling, utilizes an idea that's quite common when it comes to these kinds of murders in mystery fiction. But Ashibe still makes this a very memorable scene, because the "props" used to create this murder are brilliantly grounded in the specific time and location of this book. The objects and ideas used for the murder in this particular book, are absolutely unique to this book, and make an otherwise familar idea still seem fresh, especially as they truly make the best of the historical setting. That is what happens throughout the book, and really helps elevate familiar ideas into something much better.

You don't really have "fancy" murders here, no locked room murders or mysteries that are solved through lengthy Queenian chains of deduction, but Ashibe manages to make each of the murders really feel like they could only have been executed as such in the time and place showcased in the book. And while this does mean some historical knowledge is required to really solve the mysteries yourself, all the clues are brilliantly hidden within the narrative, which is what makes Oomarike Satsujin Jiken a very satisfying read. What really makes this a memorable mystery story though is the motive of the murderer both in the broad and narrow sense of the word. By which I mean, the murderer's motive is only understandable considering the historical time/location of this book, but also the reason why the murderer chose to commit each murder in a particular way, is only understandable given that historical context. All the murders might seem a bit underwhelming taken seperately, and might even seen nonsensical at times if you just take them as is, but they make so much more sense and convincing when explained through the historical background, resulting in a motive that is truly unique to the Oomari family in Semba in the 1940, and murders that are commited in a way that is also unique to the 1940s Semba setting. I’d say the balance between the mystery plot and the common Ashibe tropes is done better than in a lot of Ashibe's other works (not going too far into a specific field), and it's this balance, and the synergy between these themes that make this book the best "Ashibe-esque" mystery novel he has written.

Oh, and just a little bit of trivia, but a somewhat curious amateur detective called Houjou Koushirou appears early on in Oomarike Satsujin Jiken, who will make a lot of readers think of Kindaichi Kousuke: this character is actually named after mystery author Houjou Kie! The book also has a lot of little references to other characters (series) by Ashibe. though I only caught a few of them (like Osaka-bred Tsuruko from the Modern City series), so in that perspective, there's still a lot in this book only long-time Ashibe readers will notice.

So as someone who has read quite a few books written by Ashibe Taku and enjoyed most of them too, I think Oomarike Satsujin Jiken might be the book where he managed to combine all his personal tropes and the mystery plot the best. It is undoubtedly a work that could only have written by him, addressing all the specific themes he likes, and he uses those themes to tell a gripping mystery story set during World War II that really comes alive because of the historical setting. I think a lot of people who like the Yokomizo novels for their historical context, but aren't too big a fan of the grotesque, will probably like this novel a lot too, as it does address similar themes like the decline of a family along generations and the effects of the war on society.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓『大鞠家殺人事件』

Wednesday, May 19, 2021

Running On Fumes

" It is probably speeding on its way thither at the present instant as fast as steam can take it."
"The Adventure of the Second Stain"

This reminds me I want to try Steam Detectives one day...

It's finally time for Ema to start thinking about her future and decide on her apprenticeship. In an age where highly advanced steam and aether engines have made everything possible in this world, the future is bright and possibilities are unlimited. And while following her father's footsteps sounds alluring, travelling across the world as the captain of a flying aether-engine ship, her mind is set on becoming a detective, like the highly esteemed private detective Murie. She manages to arrange to be taken on as Murie's apprentice when her father returns to the metropolis from an important scientific mission: their airship moved to the atmosphere to research outer space for a while, but the expedition returned with a very odd capsule, which seems to hold a boy of Ema's age. She accidently opens the capsule, releasing the boy, but he appears to be normal boy. He is put in Murie's charge while Murie becomes involved in an investigation related to the space expedition and the mystery of why the boy was in the capsule, but meanwhile, Ema and the boy Yuujin get involved in all kinds mysteries that happen in the city, from with a locked room murder in a hotel where a scientist is knocked on the head with a rock to a man being stabbed with a knife while standing in the middle of a long corridor made completely of glass, with only Ema and Yuujin nearby and nobody else who could've approached the victim unseen. What they don't know is that they're about to uncover an insidious plot in Ashibe Taku's Steam Opera (2012).

Sometimes you come across a novel where you just know that the author not only greatly enjoyed writing the work, but also that the book was perhaps not so much written for a certain audience, but mostly for the author themselves. That's definitely the case with Steam Opera, which really feels like a book where Ashibe just went loose and decided to tackle all kinds of themes he himself likes. Of course, that's always been his forte to a degree: his bibliophilic tendencies is usually very prominent featured in his stories with lots of reference to literature and history, and often his plots also go deep into these themes. But Steam Opera feels like it was completely built upon Ashibe's personal interests, which is not a bad thing, mind you. 

When you're reading this mystery novel, with a steampunk alternate universe setting (with steam-powered trams, escalators, everything!) and written like a Jules Vernes-esque adventure novel with a distinct light novel-ish tone, with a young girl detective as the protagonist, it almost like you're ticking off a list of themes Ashibe likes. His love for late nineteenth century adventure novels is something you clearly see in his other works, as is his interest for the female detective protagonist as a trope, and the last years he's also been dabbling in light novel writing, so Steam Opera is really a book where he just throws together. And for the most part, it does work. The opening chapters of the book are exciting, as they introduce the reader to a steampunk world with aether engines and other familiar tropes of the steampunk genre and you know this distinctive universe will also be the setting for some interesting mysterious cases. Ema is pretty fun as the strongminded and usually quick-minded protagonist and the story combines the tropes of the classic science fiction adventure novel with more distinct light novel-conventions like the banter, but resulting in a world that you're not likely to find in many other mystery novels. That said, personally, I would've preferred a little more focus on the mystery side of the story, as sometimes the adventure-ish sides of the story don't seem to go anywhere than just to show off the characters.

Soon after the return of Ema's father's ship however, several mysterious murders occur in the steam-powered capital. They are of an impossible kind and the experienced reader of course knows that because we're now in a world with highly advanced steam and aether engines, solving the mystery will a be a lot trickier than let's say a mystery set in our own world. The first murder in that regards is perhaps a bit disappointing, about a man who's knocked on his head with a heavy stone in a locked hotel room, though it does utilize elements unique to this world. The situation in the Crystal Palace gardens is far more interesting: a man is stabbed by a knife in a corridor made completely of glass, allowing everyone around to have a clear view of the victim. With the victim standing in the middle of the curved corridor and Ema and Yuujin on either end of the corridor, nobody could've approached the victim to stab him, and yet there's a knife sitting neatly in the victim's body. I kinda had an idea what was likely the trick behind this murder, because the first case gave me a hint, but I think it's ultimately worked out really neatly in this novel. Speaking of which, the book builds to a climax that makes great use of the unique steampunk setting, but it also fits the almost fantasy-like story premise with a boy found in space. It's a grand conclusion that didn't quite manage to surprise me as much as it probably should have, because by mere coincidence, I had played with a similar idea but more as a joke theory, but Ashibe manages to convincingly work out this idea to write an ambitious work of steampunk fantasy mystery, but I don't think that everyone will like it: like I said, I first thought of it as a joke theory because I thought it'd be funny in such a novel and some might even find it unfair. If you didn't see it coming, it will hit you like a rock, and then you'll realize that you could've seen it coming, but it's a conclusion that really could've only worked in this specific steampunk world and it's a memorable one.

I do think that Steam Opera would perhaps have worked better in the form of something like an anime series. It already has the light novel atmosphere, but I also think that the steampunk world itself could've also used more time to really settle, as sometimes the set-up for some relevant elements of this world feels inadequate, whereas more runtime would've prepared the viewer more thorougly. The novel itself isn't really short, so but a more deliberate episode-by-episode structure would've made this a better experience.

Steam Opera is a book that's obviously written by Ashibe, for Ashibe, but that doesn't mean it's not amusing on its own. While the mystery subplots take a bit of time to really take off, the book does work to a conclusion that's memorable because of the way it utilizes the unique steampunk setting to present a mystery that you won't find anywhere else. That said, the storytelling at times feels more focused on the comedic steampunk adventure-side of the story, so if you're just reading this for the mystery, things will be a bit slow and longwinded perhaps.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓『スチームオペラ』

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

I Just Didn't Do It

‘We were thirteen. Some fellow failed at the last minute. We never noticed till just the end of dinner.’
"Lord Edgware Dies"

Anyone seen the movie I Just Didn't Do It? (Soredemo Boku wa Yatteinai). I remember we watched it in class while I was studying in Japan, which was... ages ago.

While there are certainly also merits to analyzing works of fiction as being pieces of art on their own, as completely independent, standalone creations, I always read mystery fiction with the awareness that a certain work is just one part of a larger context, with, ideally, more recent works building on, and going beyond what previous works in the genre have done. The mystery fiction genre has always been a very meta-conscious one, so if you're just going to copy an idea from G.K. Chesterton's Father Brown series for your mystery story in 2020, readers will be aware of that, and will likely take that with them in their final thoughts on the work. Of course, it's impossible for anyone to know all stories that have ever been written, so it's quite possible that a best-selling puzzle plot detective story published in English in 2020 turns out to have the exact plot as a story originally written in Tibet in 1920, only that the latter never manages to gain as much attention due to lack of translations/lack of readers etc. But in general, whenever I read a mystery story, I do tend to compare it to all the stories I have read previously: sometimes elements are used exactly the same, sometimes a story does something surprisingly different with the same basic elements, etc. Especially with popular tropes like the locked room mystery etc., you're usually inclined to see connections between the work in question and other stories. But context also means time: when was a book first published and what was "the normal" back then, and in what way is that utilized in the story? For example, Queen's The Tragedy of X has a pretty famous dying message that probably made more sense back then, but people nowadays are not likely to guess the meaning of that.

Ashibe Taku's Juusanbanme no Baishinin ("The 13th Juror", 1998) is a novel that was ahead of its time, even too much perhaps, in a way: so many elements seem less surprising or innovative now, but it must've been an incredibly original mystery novel when it was first published in 1998. After a short prologue that talks about an unforeseen disaster at a nuclear reactor (yep, long before 2011's Fukushima disaster), the reader is introduced to Takami Ryouichi, a young man without much luck in his life. One day, he's approached by an acquaintance in the publishing world with a very curious offer. This Funai is working on a series of non-fiction documentary novels supervised by none other than the legendary journalist/non-fiction writer Kohinata Akira and they want Ryouichi, aspiring writer himself, to be their writer for their project on miscarriages of justice. They'll fabricate a murder case and frame Ryouichi for the fictional crime. The expectation is that the police and Ministry of Justice will jump on the flimsy falsified evidence pointing to Ryouichi, and when the time's ripe, they'll release the evidence to show how Ryouichi had been framed by the authorities for a crime that never even happened. Ryouichi will then write the book based on his own experiences as a murder suspect. Ryouichi agrees, and undergoes a special medical procedure that will allow them to even fool the police's DNA examination. The "murder" is played out by arranging to have a certain house to be under observation by a third party. They'll make it seem like a woman enters the house, followed by Ryouichi. He'll make a lot of ruckus and leave evidence suggesting a murder and then flee the house. The plan is executed as such and soon after, Ryouichi is paid a visit by the police. But to his great surprise, he's not only being investigated for the fabricated murder, but also for the rape and murder of a woman several months ago: not only did the M.O. of the fabricated murder correspond to the actual murder earlier, Ryouichi's DNA also matched that of the culprit in the rape murder. Ryouichi's utterly confused by this turn of events, as his plans to be falsely accused of a crime he didn't commit, turn to an actual case of being falsely accused of a crime he didn't commit. Luckily for him, the attorney Morie Shunsaku, who happened to be one of the people who had been observing the house, takes an interest in this case and intends to save his client in the courtroom. But Morie must not forget that this trial is different from others: it's also the very first trial with jurors in the region, which means he must play the game differently this time.

Ashibe Taku has a tendency to use his series detective Morie Shunsaku for a variety of story types. You have stories where Morie's like those old master detectives solving crimes in creepy manorsin the middle of nowhere with weird gimmicks like hidden passages, like in Wadokei no Yakata no Satsujin. Young and upcoming reporter/amateur detectives solving impossible crimes? Done that. Historical and bibliomysteries? Yep, got that covered. Great detective versus the great criminal? Yes. Science-fiction mysteries about parallel dimensions? Morie has been there... You'd almost forget that Morie Shunsaku is supposed to be an attorney. In the fifth novel in the series, Morie is finally back to doing his actual job, but in a setting that was ahead of its time. For while Morie's involved in a jury trial in this book, there were no jury trials in Japan in 1998. Japan would introduce the lay judge system in 2009, with the legislation for that being signed in 2004, so it's interesting to see how Ashibe's invention for this novel would come true later on. Note that Ashibe's version of the Juror system is based heavily on the American model, so the workings portrayed in this novel are very different from how they are in real-life now. Ashibe would later write another book where Morie tackles cases involving the real lay ludge system in Japan (Saibanin Houtei) and comparing the system as imagined by Ashibe in today's book, and then how it turned out to be in Saibanin Houtei can be interesting. In this book for example, we have twelve jurors and one professional judge (in the Lay Judge system, it's six lay judges and three professional judges), and the layout of the courtroom as imagined here is also quite different from how it turned out to be.

By the way, the introduction of the Lay Judge system in Japan did lead to an increase of mystery fiction involving jury trials. Besides Ashibe's Saibanin Houtei, I've also discussed the game Yuuzai X Muzai and the Gyakuten Saiban/Ace Attorney spin-off novel/guidebook Gyakuten Houtei (and the 2007 game Gyakuten Saiban 4 also handled the Lay Judge system), all published around the same period. By now, mystery stories that do involve jury trials are therefore not rare anymore, but that's what makes Juusanbanme no Baishinin so special, as it was in a way pioneering, with a detective plot that involved jury trials in Japan back in 1998. Like with Ashibe's own Saibanin Houtei but also game Yuuzai X Muzai, there's a strong social school voice to be heard in this work. It's obvious that the author sees trial by jury as an important tool for a working democracy and a necessity to protect the public from political games. 

Anyway, the novel is split in two parts, the first part is where we see Ryouichi prepare for the falsified crime and eventually being prosecuted for an actual crime, while in the second half we have a good old-fashioned courtroom drama with Morie and the prosecutor battling in the courtroom to convince the jury of their respective stances and where of course most of the mystery-solving occurs. The mystery is set-up in such a way that over the course of the various sessions, Morie is able to address several unclear points in the prosecution's view of the events in succession. Some of these parts are perfectly solvable for the reader in classic puzzler fashion, like explaining how the woman vanished from the house under observation, while they did see Ryouichi go in and out of the house. The solution is simple, but fairly clewed. Other parts are a bit too ambitious: as you may guess, Ryouichi's involved with a pretty large conspiracy in order to be in his current situation (a falsified falsified crime) and the scale of the background story reminds more of those social school mystery stories of Matsumoto Seichou with high-ranking government officials scheming things and stuff like that. These elements seldom make for good puzzle plot mysteries: this book is no expection.

And then you get to the part about how Ryouichi's DNA turns out to match a rapist-murderer from a case several months earlier and how the real culprit managed to fool the scientific investigation, and that part is... unsolvable unless you happen to know the trick. Which strangely enough, I did. For you see, I have read two other mystery stories that revolve around the same, fairly obscure, underlying idea, though those stories are more recent than this 1998 book. I assume that in 1998, this was a more surprising, exactly because it explains how DNA investigation also has pitfalls despite its pros, but this critique of DNA investigation is of course less surprising to the modern reader, and in my case, I had already seen the same in other stories, even if they are dated after this book. Still, this part of the mystery remains unfair to the reader, as there's simply no way they are going to guess that based on the little clewing/explanation in the novel: it just requires too much specialistic knowledge. It may be surprising if you haven't come across the underlying idea before (it's not that common, I just happened to have come across it a few times), but it's not like you'll think this was brilliant plotting (though I admit the plotting to support the main idea was okay.

Is Juusanbanme no Baishinin a puzzle plot mystery though? I think that it isn't for a large part, though the aforementioned disappearance from the house definitely is, as well as the conclusion of the trial. Morie's job is of course to save his client from a miscarriage of justice and the clever manner which allows him to do that, is ultimately found within the workings of the juror system as envisioned by Ashibe (so different from the actual Lay Judge system). The clewing is a bit vague, but it works and it does give a good reason for Juusanbanme no Baishinin to actually be a mystery novel about jury trials, rather than a normal courtroom drama based on the actual systems at the time.

Perhaps it's because I read them out of order, but the Morie Shunsaku novels tend to go all kinds of directions in terms of story types, and in Juusanbanme no Baishinin's case, it even has a rather eerie prophetic vibe going on with its criticisms on DNA profiling in police investigations, the introduction of jury trials and even a background event like the nuclear meltdown. It's a novel with a clear vision by the author, but as a mystery story, it's also a bit unfair at times. But as usual with this author's works, there's always something to chew on mentally and as a courtroom drama mystery, it's fairly entertaining.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓『十三番目の陪審員』

Wednesday, January 29, 2020

The Secret Lost at Sea

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know.
"Oh, The Places You'll Go!"

Ashibe Taku loves his classic mystery fiction and often writes pastiches of classic detectives and other stories strongly inspired by them. His two-volume series The Exhibition of Great Detectives for example was a collection of entertaining pastiches which had familiar fictional detectives like Lupin and Holmes, or Charlie Chan and Sam Spade team up in criminal crossovers. What Ashibe also showcased in these stories is not only his immense knowledge of the fictional characters and their respective universes, but also of the real-life publication history. A major characteristic of Ashibe's writing is the never-ending stream of literary references and references to all kinds of trivia regarding how these stories were actually created, sometimes even to a fault as occasionally when there's a bit too much trivia.

The famous fictional detectives Akechi Kogorou (by Edogawa Rampo) and Kindaichi Kousuke (by Yokomizo Seishi) have of course also been used multiple times by Ashibe in his pastiches and he even had them team-up more than once. In those stories, the two famous detectives met while working on the same case, but Ashibe Taku has a more interesting concept prepared in Kindaichi Kousuke, Panorama-tou he Iku ("Kindaichi Kousuke Goes To Panorama Island", 2016). This book collects two novellas in which the two detectives visit locales where the other detective famously solved one of their iconic cases: one of Edogawa Rampo's more imaginative novellas is Panorama-tou Kitan ("The Strange Tale of Panorama Island"), while Gokumontou ("Prison Gate/Gokumon Island") is one of the best-known Kindaichi Kousuke novels. In this book, the always shabbily-clad Kindaichi visits Panorama Island many years after the incident that made it famous, while in the meantime, the gentleman-detective Akechi Kogorou, his wife Fumiyo and the boy detective Kobayashi Yoshio travel to the once horrifying island of Gokumon.

Let me start with saying right away that this is a book for the fans. If you haven't read the original stories and preferably even more adventures starring the respective two detectives, there's probably too little to genuinely enjoy within the pages of these two stories. Ashibe goes full-out fanboy with his references to both series, and sometimes (or even often), the trivia will only appeal to the knowledgable fan. We're talking about references about the release years of stories, or how certain stories were only serialized and never released as books and talk about the appearances of characters that only appeared on one single novel. I was familiar with both the original stories and many other sotires in both fictional universes, but some of these references are really nitpicky (in a good way, I guess). A fan will surely grin while reading this, but for someone who has never touched any of these stories,  Kindaichi Kousuke, Panorama-tou he Iku will be hard to follow, especially as the core mystery plot of both stories do touch upon the details of the original work. Of course, pastiches always rely on references, but I think in this case the core mystery plots aren't really entertaining if you go in completely blank.

The first story is the titular Kindaichi Kousuke, Panorama-tou he Iku ("Kindaichi Kousuke Goes To Panorama Island"), which has Kindaichi's old friend Kazama buy up the now defunct Panorama Island. In the original story, this island was rebuilt to be a (fake) paradise on Earth, being a gigantic, island-sized panorama rotunda that not only showed the wonders of the world as a panorama, it also offered all the pleasures of the human world to its king. After the conclusion of the original story, the island was abandoned and allowed to fall apart, until Kazama (a contractor) decided to buy the island and turn it into an entertainment park. Kazama invites Kindaichi along to view the place, knowing his professional interest in the location. After their visit, they return to the mainland and stay in an inn in a bay across the island. That night, Kindaichi is haunted by a nightmare, which seems to have come true: workers of Kazama had gone to the island that morning and discovered a corpse there, whose face had been destroyed completely. The man had been murdered in the night and been left on top of some minature buildings (a panorama works with perspective, so objects in the back are made as scale miniatures). The island is hardly accessible though, and Kazama and Kindaichi had not seen the body during their inspection the day before, so how did that body end up on Panorama Island and why in the first place? It's interesting to see how Ashibe imagined the aftermath of the original story (loads of references to the characters of the original story) and ultimately, the core mystery is actually neatly connected to the original Panorama Island story. The core mystery plot isn't really that complex and the story could easily have been half the length if it wasn't imbedded in this pastiche form, but on the other hand, this trick is one that worked because it was set in such a unique place. It's a funny story for people that know the original tale, though I think it is arguable whether this story needed Kindaichi to be the detective (though there is a reason).

This story is followed time-wise immediately by Akechi Kogorou, Gokumontou he Iku ("Akechi Kogorou Goes To Gokumon Island"), where Akechi Kogorou, his wife and the boy detective Kobayashi visit Gokumon Island, one of the first big cases Kindaichi solved right after he returned from fighting in World War II. Akechi is quite interested in seeing the small island community some years after Kindaichi famously solved the "Gorgon Sisters Murder Case" and meets with a lot of people he already knew from the novel by Y (Yokomizo Seishi) based on the events. As the famous detective and his entourage are being led around the island though, the reader is made aware not all is as it seems though, and it seems Akechi is planning to pull something off on this island, but what? Similar to the Rampo stories, we follow an Akechi who is aware of a lot more facts than the reader, and it's seeing the mysterious events work towards a finale orchestrated by Akechi that makes up most of the fun of this story. It's not really fair because Akechi basically already knows what's up from the early stages of the story on, and the reader is just left wondering why this or that is happening. This story too builds on the aftermath of the original story as imagined by Ashibe, but both the scale and the type of mystery is so different from the original story that it kinda misses the mark: the first story was much better in really feeling like the mystery plot built on specific details of the original story. The real-world references are also incredibly detailed and nitpicky here (and even somewhat confusing as it mixes real and in-universe chronology) and in the end, this story really feels like one for the fans.

Obviously, Kindaichi Kousuke, Panorama-tou he Iku is not going to be an universal recommendation. It's playing up to a very specific target group and there's little to appeal to people outside of that group, as the two stories here don't work well as standalone mystery stories. As someone who does know both stories, and the extended series of both Akechi Kogorou and Kindaichi Kousuke, I did have fun seeing familiar locales and characters, but seen from the point of view of another great detective. The concept is pretty fun, with these characters visiting the places from the stories of the other character, but the result is really only reserved for a small group of readers. You will know of yourself whether you're interested in this story collection or not.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓『金田一、パノラマ島へ行く』:「金田一、パノラマ島へ行く」/「明智小五郎、獄門島へ行く」

Wednesday, July 31, 2019

Once Upon a Crime

"Be a detective and examine everything to unlock the doors of the mystery of time and space."
"MOTAS: Mystery of Time and Space"

Huh, apparently there are a handful of mystery novels in Japan about Escher...

After the Meiji Restoration in 1868, Japan opened up its ports for trade after centuries of closure, but that didn't mean foreign traders were free to go anywhere they wanted. Foreign settlements were opened at select places across Japan, most notably in Yokohama and Kobe. The foreign settlement in Osaka was located in Kawaguchi, and it also provided the home for a certain Dutch civil engineer called George Arnold Esher (who has a son called M.C. Esher...), who was hired by the Japanese government as an advisor, overseeing hydraulic projects like the restoration of the Yodo river in Osaka. One night Escher returns to Osaka after overseeing the harbor in Mikuni, when he is kidnapped and stuffed in a hansom coach. The threats by his assailants make it clear they're actually not after him, but a tradesman called Hans Boemler, but attempts at clearing up the misunderstanding fail. The blinded hansom doesn't allow Escher to see much, but he notices that his kidnappers brought him to the Kawaguchi Foreign Settlement (which is where he was heading anyway), and he's brought into a room, where he finds... the body of Boemler, who apparently had already been found and killed by his kidnappers' boss. With a body on their hand, and a mistaken abductee, the fiends decide to burn the place down, but Escher is miraculously saved from the fire. But in the subsequent investigation, one problem arises: Boemler's body was never found. Escher and his comrades try to figure out what happened exactly that night, but none of their theories work, and Escher would eventually leave Japan.

Morie Shunsaku takes up the case of Mr. Shioji in 2001, who is accused of murdering Udou, a businessman who together with a few other men beat Shioji up at the golf course, after Shioji assaulted them first. Shioji used to be a police officer, but he was basically crippled by Udou and his friends back when they were students and participating in the student riots in the 70s, giving Shioji enough of a motive for murder. Udou had been strangled on the street at night, and with witnesses stating they saw Shioji tailing Udou, and even someone who saw the murder happen from across the street, Shioji's guilt seems clear, but he swears that he never touched the man and that Udou was assaulted by some invisible ghost, as he saw Udou suddenly struggling and falling down on the street even though there was nobody around. This alone sounds like an impossible crime, but Morie also learns that in 1970, Udou's circle of friends was involved with a mysterious murder. The friends had been drinking near the warehouse district, when Hikura headed back home. He made his way through Ajigawa Tunnel (a deep, long tunnel running beneath the Aji River) and at the other end of the tunnel, he discovered the body of Toomi, one of the friends he had been drinking with. While Hikura had not seen Toomi when he left (meaning Toomi could've come here before him), Hikura did see Udou and the others before he left and none of them could've overtaken him to arrive at the tunnel earlier and commit the murder, as there is only one single road to the tunnel. Morie has a nagging feeling that the Ajigawa Tunnel Murder has some similarities with the George Esher case he read about in a pamphlet, and he decides to try to solve these cases too in Ashibe Taku's Toki no Misshitsu ("A Locked Space in Time", 2001).

Toki no Misshitsu is the tenth entry in this series starring the defense attorney Morie Shunsaku, who more often than not ends up amateur sleuthing. And as you can gather from my feeble attempt at a summary, it's also a very ambitious work, that tries to do a lot. I do have to say that the title can be a bit misleading, as while they talk about sealed spaces and locked rooms all the time, most of the situations aren't really locked room mysteries. The 1876 Escher case for example is called a sealed space because the Kawaguchi Foreign Settlement is a "sealed space" (extraterrorial ground) from which Boemler's body disappeared. The Ajigawa Tunnel murder is considered a "locked room murder" because the suspects were all located at one side of the tunnel and none of them could've made it to the other side of the tunnel without being seen by the reliable witness (i.e. the area between the witness and the victim was "a locked space" for the suspects, but the murder was possible for anyone on the other side of the tunnel). There is another problem presented in the prologue, where Morie is riding on the Aqua-Liner aqua-bus with a certain package, but he can't figure out how his opponent is going to retrieve that package and escape from the police, as the canals and rivers of Osaka basically make any quick escape impossible. The only real impossible crime situation is that of the Udou murder, where the defendant says Udou was attacked by a ghost, and a witness says he saw the defendant assault the victim, but even then it's not really a locked room mystery. So the title is rather misleading.

To be honest, the four "sealed space" mysteries are not likely to make much of an impression if taken alone. The solutions for both the Aqualiner mystery and the Udou murder are fairly simple to guess and I wouldn't be surprised if you had seen similar answers elsewhere. The Escher and the Ajigawa Tunnel cases are more interesting, as their underlying trick is the same if the execution is different, and Morie manages to solve the Ajigawa Tunnel case only because he figured out the Escher case. It has to be noted that once again, their base idea is nothing particularly inspiring, but at least the synergy is here between these cases, and it is interesting to see how two completely different situations, set in very different times, are ultimately built around the same notion, and the way it ties back to M.C. Escher (who makes an appearance as a kid) is pretty neat. I actually thought this novel to be packed way too full (besides the four "sealed space" mysteries, there's even a code cracking section, and more), and personally, I think a novel only focused on the Esher and Ajigawa Tunnel cases would've worked better, as the other elements in Toki no Misshitsu feel far less integrated compared to these two parts. There is not that much synergy between the various parts, so at times the novel does feel like a collection of various mysterious events, rather than one cohesive story (especially as there's just so much going on in this novel across various time periods).

I've mentioned in earlier reviews of Ashibe's work that he loves weaving historical and literary research into his stories: the pastiche stories with famous fictional detectives in his The Exhibition of Great Detectives series (Part 1 and Part 2) are excellent examples of how Ashibe not only shows great understanding of the works he imitates, from writing style to publication history, but you also see how he does a tremendous amount of research in world history, as he also makes connections between his fictional tales, and real world events. His work is always brimming with historical references and explanations, which can also backfire a bit: I thought Satsujin Kigeki no Modern City  was going a bit overboard with its explanations of basically everything in 1930s Osaka. With a story set in the three distinct time periods (1876, 1970 and 2001), you're sure to find plenty of references and historical explanations in Toki no Misshitsu too, though I didn't find it as intrusive as with Satsujin Kigeki no Modern City. You are sure to learn a lot while reading this book, but the way Ashibe uses the historical A.G. Esher for his mystery for example is pretty neat and a good example of how to do a historical mystery. It's also clear that Ashibe loves the city of Osaka, and as always, you're always seeing a lot of the Water Capital in various forms. The amount of research in the city's history can sometimes a bit overwhelming and distract a bit from the main mystery plot, but readers into atmosphere will definitely love Toki no Misshitsu, and Ashibe's in general, I think.

I might not be the ideal reader of Toki no Misshitsu, as I freely admit I'm a reader who focuses more on the core mystery plot and less on "story". Personally, I think a tale focusing solely on the two most interesting situations, the Escher and Ajigawa Tunnel cases, would've worked better than the way it is now, with a lot going on. The idea of using Escher and the Kawaguchi Foreign Settlement is quite original though and the idea of a "sealed space" mystery with the tunnel is also interesting, even if the "locked room" moniker is a bit misleading. I do think that people who really like to read "an epic story" will like Toki no Misshitsu as Ashibe really went all-out here, with so much mysteries to be solved in the city of Osaka, spanning a period of more than a century.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓 『時の密室』

Wednesday, May 15, 2019

Dress Reversal

"The criminal is the creative artist; the detective only the critic"
"The Blue Cross"

Due to frequent shuffling with my posting schedule, this review got delayed a lot. I can't even remember how often it got bumped down, but also up the list. In fact, at one time, this review was supposed to be posted soon after another Ashibe review, early in the year, but shuffling around means this review is posted first, and we're several months later than first planned.

High school student Remi is one day attacked on her way back from school, with her sudden assailant leaving a scar on her face with a razor blade. This attack alone left quite the impression on the girl, but it wasn't the only event to befall her family: her uncle had a motorcycle accident, and her little cousin was kidnapped and had been missing for a few days already. Curious as all these happenings may be, Remi didn't think too much of them together, until she meets a mysterious figure at a costume party, who tells her the Murder Comedy King is behind all these incidents, and that while Remi's family already had their turn, the figure warns Remi that more will follow, and those targets won't get off with just a scratch on their face. Scared by this warning, Remi decides to seek help from the attorney Morie Shunsaku, who has made a name as an amateur detective. That the fiend's warning was more than just words, is soon proven to be true when horrible murders occur one after another, like a man being murdered by having his spine cracked on the dial of a clock tower, or a woman who is drowned alive in her own cellar. Meanwhile, it seems the Murder Comedy King has more than one enemy on his trail, as the great detective Hanagatami Joutarou and his boy assistant Ariake Masahiko too seems on the case, and that's actually really odd, as Hanagatami is supposed to be a fictional detective! Can Morie and Hanagatami stop the monstrous serial killer Murder Comedy King in Ashibe Taku's Kaijin tai Meitantei ("The Fiend versus The Great Detectives", 2000)?

Many authors have different characters for different kind of stories, but Ashibe is someone who has somehow managed to use his series detective Morie Shunsaku in an incredibly diverse story selection. Morie Shunsaku is an attorney, so you'd expect a courtroom drama, right? Sure, Saibanin Houtei is even almost social school, as it was written to coincide with the introduction of the Lay Judge System in Japan. But then you also have the stories where Morie's like those old master detectives solving crimes in creepy mansions with weird gimmicks like hidden passages, like in Wadokei no Yakata no Satsujin. Historical and bibliophilic mysteries? Yep, got that one too. And what about a science-fiction detective story about parallel dimensions? Morie has covered that one too.... Every other Morie Shunsaku novel I read feels completely different from the previous one, as Ashibe will use him for whatever story he wants to write, and yep, Kaijin tai Meitantei adds another flavor.

Fiends, great detectives, you might've guessed already, but Kaijin tai Meitantei is a homage to the classic pulp thrillers by Edogawa Rampo from the 30s-40s, where Rampo's great detective Akechi Kogorou battles criminal masterminds with silly names like the Magician, the Golden Mask, the Dwarf, the Black Lizard, and of course the Fiend with Twenty Faces. While Kaijin tai Meitantei is set in contemporary times (the 2000s), the story reads as if we're still in the 1930s Japan with criminals dressing up as creepy figures to scare their targets and in the 1930s, it's also a lot easier to just kidnap people from the street without anyone ever noticing just by spraying sleeping gas and carrying your victim away with you or something like that (seriously: I never think about it much, but I can accept kidnappings much easier from 1930 pulp thrillers than stories set in modern days, because it's actually quite difficult to carry a body away from somewhere). The fanciful manners in which each of the targets of the Murder Comedy King is killed off are also clearly inspired by Rampo's work. Voyeurism is also a big theme in Rampo's work, as is exposition, and the gruesome murders in this novel could've fitted well in Rampo's novels, as yes, a man being tied to both the hour and minute hand of a clock tower so he'll get bent in middle is really icky, as is the murder where a girl is hanged from a balloon. Like in Rampo's work, the narration will often to the point of view of the victim here, leading to some real horror moments. Ashibe is having a lot of fun with these Rampo homages, and the book is brimming with references. In fact, each of the chapter titles in this novel is also a reference on its own to another chapter titles from Rampo's oeuvre and just figuring out where each title came from is a fun game for Rampo fans. Still, it's weird seeing Morie involved with a case like this, because the story is intentionally written to invoke the atmosphere of Rampo's novels, which is firmly set in 1920s-1940s modernizing Japan, while you know it's actually set in the 2000s.
 
As a mystery novel however, Kaijin tai Meitantei can not avoid falling in the same pitfall a lot of Rampo's novels also experience, though that might not have been Ashibe's goal in the first place. Anyway, there's a lot of gruesome deaths and scenes with the Murder Comedy King challenging his victims and the detectives, but there's not much to solve for the reader or Morie. The murders just happen and there's nothing particular to solve about them save for catching the killer. There's a kind of reveal about the Murder Comedy King at the end, but that's telegraphed rather obviously, but I'm not sure whether I should take it as a genuine reveal, or a "haha, Rampo's novels weren't that surprising in reality, so I'm going with a not-so-shocking reveal myself too" type of reveal. Sure, it feels like a Rampo novel with an ending like this, but I would've appreciated something that would've gone beyond that too. Ashibe also plays with meta-fiction in this novel, which is a theme he often utilises. Throughout the novel, you also learn that the great detective Hanagatami Joutarou is also working on the case, but he's a fictional detective by "Ashibe Taku," a personal friend of Morie, so how can a fictional figure also be working on a real case? There are some more segments that seem to blur the world of "reality" and "fiction" (within the setting of the story). There's an in-universe explanation for all of this, but it's more intended as a playful gesture to confuse the reader by Ashibe (the actual author).

Long story short, Kaijin tai Meitantei is exactly like one of those Rampo pulp thrillers, both in atmosphere and in execution. It's a very faithful homage to Rampo's work and his world, and as a fan of Rampo, I definitely had fun seeing these Rampo-esque situations. That said, I would never recommend Kaijin tai Meitantei as a first read in the Morie Shunsaku series, as its one purpose is just to revel in Rampo love. It's not really a Morie novel, and I also doubt readers can really appreciate the sheer silliness of this work without any understanding of Rampo's pulps.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓『怪人対名探偵』

Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Search of Truth

The days and the months are drifting by
As though they didn't notice seasons changing in the breeze 
They all look the same but I sense something's there 
Waiting around the path
Revealing a truth that I will defend
"Time Hollow" (Mouse)

Despite the cover, this is technically a science-fiction mystery, I guess...

The Shiigahara Academy Case some years ago involved the death of a female science teacher of that school, for which the prosecutor Meijou was arrested. He insisted he was innocent, but evidence showed that only he came near the victim after she herself signed for a certain delivery at the school, namely a package containing the very poison that would be used for her death. Meijou was convicted for the murder, though some suspect the fact Meijou was working on a grand scale corruption case involving the Shiigahara Group (which funded the academy) might not be completely unrelated to his predicament. Some time later, prosecutor Kikuzono Ayako receives a tip from attorney Morie Shunsaku that might allow them to prove Meijou's innocence, as the research center HICALI has a particle accelerator that can determine at the particle level whether a certain piece of evidence used in Meijou's trial is indeed what it was assumed to be. After leaving the evidence behind at HICALI, Kikuzono is taken by Morie to the Everholy Lodge, a private hotel owned by the Shiigahara Group for its members. There they find among the other guests some people that might be connected to Meijou's case too, but to the two attorneys' surprise,  one of the guests is murdered inside a locked hotel room. Kikuzono however quickly figures out who committed the murder and how... or did she? For at the very moment she pointed out who the murderer was, she is transported to another dimension! It appears a fault with HICALI's particle accelerator is the cause of her dimension-hopping, and she theorizes that she might be flung back into her own world if she manages to solve the murder in the Everholy Lodge, but there is one problem: while this parallel world is mostly like her own world, it appears that the vital clue in Kikuzono's original theory doesn't exists in this parallel world, meaning she has to figure out a whole new explanation for the locked room murder in Ashibe Taku's Ijigen no Yakata no Satsujin ("The Murder In The Dimensional House", 2014).

This is a weird novel. Mystery fiction is not necessarily about realism of course, and the rate at which most amateur detectives run into corpses or other mysteries like impossible disappearances is hardly something anyone would consider realistic. World consistency is more important and this is why fantasy and science-fiction mystery novels work: they might not be "realistic", but ideally, there's consistency in what can be done or what can't be done with magic/future technology, and those rules govern those worlds just in the way the general laws of nature govern most other mystery stories. Yet Ijigen no Yakata no Satsujin seems quite strange compared to other novels in the Morie Shunsaku series: sure, this series is strangely broad, as in one novel, Morie might be acting like a real attorney, working on a Lay Judge case that is meant to portray how a Lay Judge case really works in Japan, but in another story he might be solving the mystery of a Birdman or solving purely fictional murders. Yet I had not expected him to appear in a science-fiction mystery, which this novel is essentially, as we're talking about a dimension-leaping prosecutor. That said though, the parallel world premise is the only science-fiction part of the mystery, as it's not like the murder was committed with death rays or anything like that. The story follows prosecutor Kikuzono by the way, who is apparently a semi-recurring character/rival in the series I myself hadn't met yet, rather than Morie himself.

The premise is that due to an incident at HICALI's particle accelerator, Kikuzono is flung into a parallel world each time she makes a wrong deduction. She realizes she can only return if she figure out who the real murderer is of the Everholy Lodge Murder Case, but the catch is that every parallel world is slightly different. The murder has happened in each world, but everyone has slightly different names for example (in one of the worlds, Morie has an expy called Emori for example) and the details of the murder are also slightly different. The devil is in the details they say and that is correct here, as it's these details that make each dimensional jump so tiresome for Kikuzono, as each time, her previous theory about the murder is rendered completely useless. For example, in one parallel world, her theory hinged on the fact the murder weapon was a fairly small knife, but the moment she pointed at her suspect, she was thrown into another parallel world, where the knife had turned into a Japanese sword, that couldn't possibly work with her theory. Each time the details of the case change slightly, making her previous theory impossible and forcing her to rethink it.

This idea is somewhat similar to the multiple solutions trope we see in stories by Ellery Queen (most famously The Greek Coffin Mystery) and Anthony Berkeley (most famously The Poisoned Chocolates Case), novels which are structured around presenting one new solution to the same case upon another to the reader. There is a fundamental difference however to the parallel worlds in Ijigen no Yakata no Satsujin and those works: in the works of Queen or Berkeley, the false solution is possible because a detective either interprets the evidence wrong, or more often, they are not yet in possession of all the relevant facts. It's only after the false solution is proposed that New Evidence A appears on the scene, which allows the detective to refine their theory to include this New Evidence A, changing their solution (see also my article on the Foil Detective). This is not the case in Ijigen no Yakata no Satsujin: in this novel, the facts themselves actually change or even completely disappear, forcing Kikuzono to reconsider her theories. So what was once a knife, can suddenly turn into a sword, or an item that existed in one world that allowed her theory to work, doesn't even exist in the next parallel world. So in this novel, the false solution is not made possible by adding facts, but by removing them or altering them. This wouldn't fly in a "realistic" novel of course, but does work in the framework of parallel worlds.

Ijigen no Yakata no Satsujin is thus more a thought experiment in deduction and the locked room mystery, than a mystery novel that wants to challenge you in a fair way with false solutions, as it's obviously not fair to the reader, nor to Kikuzono, that fundamental facts are suddenly changed at the whim of the author/parallel worlds. It's a mostly entertaining experiment though, as Kikuzono has to come up with a new solution to the locked room murder each time with a diminishing number of clues, and I think she goes through like four or five different solutions on what is essentially a rather small-scale locked room mystery, but which eventually makes an impression because of all the variations it goes through. But there's quite some repetition in this novel due to all the dimensional hopping, and because the facts keep changing solely to deny Kikuzono's theories, it feels somewhat mean-spirited, and at times even futile, as her theories are always rejected not because they are logically not sound, but simply because the facts are changed to her disadvantage.

The final solution to the locked room murder... is almost too grand for this novel. The solution takes some minor elements from each of the other solutions Kikuzono proposed in the parallel dimensions, which makes this a pretty clever one, but even from that starting point it's a looooong way to the final solution, and it definitely needed better clewing, as it really came out of nowhere, even with the build-up through the other solutions. It's a shame, as the core concept of this locked room mystery is utterly nuts, in the good sense of the term, but the minimalist clewing doesn't do it any favors, as at it is now, it's only vaguely hinted at best, and even then there's so many logistics about it that could've been hinted at in a better manner. The idea is of course that each of the previous parallel world solutions all contain elements of the final solution, but even then, I think that this final solution to the locked room mystery would've worked better on its own, with it as the true focus, rather in this particular novel that's more built around the idea of having multiple parallel versions of the same locked room.

What struck me the most I think was the nagging feeling that this story would've worked better as a videogame, as that medium works better with presenting parallel worlds. Kamaitaichi no Yoru, 428 or Rei-Jin-G-Lu-P also work with branching and/or parallel story paths and as games, they can allow the player to do stuff easily like jumping back and forth between different paths through flowcharts. I think Ijigen no Yakata no Satsujin would've been more fun if the parallel worlds weren't presented one after another, but simultaneously (allowing you to jump between the various worlds), allowing you to explore each world yourself, rather than going through them in order.

I said it at the beginning and I will repeat it now: Ijigen no Yakata no Satsujin is a weird story. It uses a science-fiction framework to play with the trope of the false solution in an interesting way, focusing on a somewhat simple locked room mystery and it's quite entertaining to read it as such. Yet I also feel that this concept might've worked better in a different format, and that the true solution of the locked room mystery is crazy enough that it deserved more attention as a full-fledged novel that is solely about it, rather than being part of a number of solutions to the locked room conundrum, as the clewing for the true solution is somewhat inadequate. It's definitely not a typical Morie Shunsaku novel, though I have to say: by now it seems that Morie Shunsaku can work with any type of mystery.

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓 『異次元の館の殺人』

Wednesday, May 30, 2018

Double, Double

"Wait a minute, let me get this straight: Twice came in and shot the teller and Jim Fell."
- "No, he only shot the teller, Jim Johnson. Fell is ill."
"Okay, then after he shot the teller, you shot Twice"
- "No, I only shot once"
"Twice is the hold up man"
- "Then I guess I did shoot Twice."
"Police Squad!"

Though the uprise of e-books is certainly noticable in Japan, it's always been a strong place for physical book releases, which is why it's not that uncommon for publishers to go just a bit further than a standard book release. For example, it's not that rare for manga (which are usually printed in greytones) to include one or two pages printed in color on better quality paper. Or for us mystery-readers: the fold-out map! Sometimes, when a diagram for a mystery story is just too large to be printed on one page, or too detailed to for a normal two-page spread (because it's hard to tell what's on the inside margins), publishers will print the diagram on a double-sized page with a fold. Other neat little things I've seen with physical releases is for example the use of different fonts for different narratives within a novel (something not possible with a lot of e-books as usually you can't have different fonts for different sections within one e-book), or even the use of different-colored paper for different narratives (the Japanese deluxe edition of the fantastic horror-manga The Drifting Classroom uses different colored pages depending on whether the part's about Earth, or the other world). The latter is of course something that no e-book can even hope to replicate, and while my experience with them is fairly limited to standard releases, I don't think many publishers working with a print-on-demand model can really pull something similar off.

One of the more interesting things I've seen Japanese publishers pull off are the 'sealed pages': in these releases, two pages are left uncut during the printing process, resulting in a sort of envelope which "seals" all the pages between those two pages. So it's up to the reader themselves to unseal them by cutting the pages open. I've seen this used in two novels in Higashino Keigo's Kaga Kyouchirou series for example (though technically, the sealed pages for both Dochiraka Ga Kanojo wo Koroshita and Watashi ga Kare wo Koroshita are for the post-novel commentary and not part of the novel itself), but also in the gamebook Famicom Tantei Club: Kieta Koukeisha for example. There's something really exciting about these sealed pages: the act of actually cutting open these pages to reveal what's inside feels special. Are you really ready to do this? Once you've cut them, you can't go back! It gives a book a once-in-a-lifetime experience and obviously, buying the same book used (and cut) won't give you the same sensation as cutting the pages yourself.

Ashibe Taku's Double Mystery (2016) is an interesting novel that also makes use of the sealed pages, but in an even more alluring way. As the title suggests, Double Mystery is about two mysteries, told in two distinct stories. The gimmick behind this book is that you can start from either side of the book: if you start from the normal side (that is, from right to left), you'll start with the whodunnit Murder at the Chinese Lute Hotel. Should you however choose to start from the 'back' (from the left side), then you'll start with the suspense story Non-serial Killer. Anyway, you can start at either side, but both tales end in the middle of the book, where you'll find the solution to both stories within a set of sealed pages, which you of course are invited to cut open and read once you have read both stories.

Books and literature are a prevalent theme throughout Ashibe's work: sometimes it's a bibliomystery, sometimes it's a parody or pastiche of some Golden Age detective, and at other times his stories feature countless of references to literature or historical events and facts, but "texts" are something you always have to keep in mind when reading Ashibe's work, and as a fellow bibliophile, I certainly am often very much entertained by his stories. So the concept of Double Mystery, a mystery novel that actually makes use of its own medium as a physical book, allowing you read from either end and with sealed pages in the middle, is something that makes me very excited. I can imagine someone less into "books" as a medium might simply shrug and consider it's a mere gimmick, but I absolutely love mystery tales that actually make use of the unique characteristics of the medium, be it books, audio dramas, videogames or basically anything. In that regard, I'd give Double Mystery full points, as you simply don't see these kind of attractive ideas often anymore in today's market.

As the two stories come together in the middle, and the solution to both stories are sealed within the same set of pages, it doesn't take a genius to realize that the two narratives are indeed connected to each other, but arriving at the precise relation between the two stories might prove quite tricky. The recommended reading order by the way is to start with Murder at the Chinese Lute Hotel and then continue to Non-serial Killer before you go to the ending, though the reverse order is also possible if you want a more tricker reading order, the book says, so that's what I did. The two sides are both fairly short by the way, more novelettes than full-fledged novels.

Non-serial Killer is touted as a suspense story and consists of the (private) online diary entries by "Bluewildpear", a freelance journalist for Independent News Agency.  When the father of the baby she was carrying died in a car accident after being overworked, Bluewildpear was naturally sad, but still: she had already broken up with him because she didn't think he'd be any good as a father, so it wasn't as dramatic as some might've thought. Kenta might've been a nice man and he might've been sincere when he said he was going to do better now, but the work he did at the film production company Fantascope Co. showed all she needed to know about his future prospects. But Bluewildpear's interests are piqued when she learns that more people working at Fantascope had died in accidents recently from what appeared to be overwork, from a gifted animator to a producer. She starts to think that these might not be simply accidents after all and starts digging, and slowly she figures out there's something connecting all these people. What's funny by the way is that the text here is printed horizontally, from left to right (Western convention) like you'd normally see on a Japanese website, while the other story is printed with the lines vertically from top to bottom, like most Japanese fiction is written.

In Murder at the Chinese Lute Hotel, attorney Morie Shunsaku is invited to a private viewing of a film that was thought to have been lost. The show will be held at the Chinese Lute Hotel, located on a tidal island, similar to Mont Saint-Michel. When Morie arrives at the hotel however, he learns that four other people were invited here too, but all for different reasons. By the time they realize they have been lured to the island, it's already too late: high tide has swallowed the road that connected the place to the mainland, making it into a true island (technically a car might make it through, but the salt of the sea water will ruin the car, so nobody wants to try it out). The one employee of the hotel has also disappeared, but in their stead the five guests find a sixth, unwanted guest: Judge Chidi'iwa. Morie knew the judge from the Nanase Incident, in which he as defense attorney more than sufficiently made it clear there was insufficient proof to convict his client, but where the judge still ruled a guilty verdict, all just to protect the 99.9% conviction rate of Japan's prosecutors. The judge's narrow-minded rulings had also ruined the lives of the loved-ones of the other four guests, and it's then that Morie realizes what is going on: in And Then There Were None ten people were lured to an island to be killed one by one, but here, five potential murderers were lured to an island to kill one and the same hated potential victim. And while Morie at first thinks it's impossible that normal people would suddenly resort to murder, he finds he's wrong when the judge is found hanged, and what's more, it appears that only Morie himself could've committed the murder!

So when you're done, you're clear to cut the sealed pages open and find out who the murderers are in both Murder at the Chinese Lute Hotel and Non-serial Killer. While both stories are actually fairly simple (and Non-serial Killer isn't even a real whodunnit, but a suspense story) and there's no mindblowing trick performed here, I do have to say that Double Mystery does something neat with the double narrative structure. The two stories are obviously connected, by finding out how is done pretty interestingly, and the narrative of Murder at the Chinese Lute Hotel in particular manages to pull of something that would've been impossible to in a normal, straightforward narrative, but works wonderfully in a split-up narrative. Could this only have been pulled off with two narratives that work towards the middle, instead of for example the two narratives one after another or with alternating chapters? I do not think so, but I do think the idea works better by having the actual physical seperation of the two narratives, so the way Double Mystery was printed is definitely the best way for this idea to work. The clewing in Murder at the Chinese Lute Hotel is a bit lacking, in the sense that the jump from one admittedly good clue to the deduction of the decisive attribute of the murderer is rather big, but one the whole, I think that Double Mystery was quite enjoyable, that managed to elevate an okay, but short and simple mystery story to a higher level by making excellent use of the medium.

Double Mystery was thus an enjoyable read: while the core mystery plot might be not as grand as one might expect from the concept of this book, it's still a solid mystery that still makes meaningful use of the idea of having two seperate narratives and a sealed section. I can't deny that I had hoped for something even bigger, as the idea behind the book is absolutely fantastic, but I guess my expectations might've been unreasonably high. Still, the book itself managed to turn a mystery story that otherwise might've been less impressive into something bigger, and in the end, that for this story, this form might be the best and I can't deny it was a fun experience. I'd love to read more mystery stories that make use of the format!

Original Japanese title(s): 芦辺拓 『ダブル・ミステリ』