The Message in Red

"The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, moves on"

Rubaiyat (Fitzgerald translation)

Confession: For the longest time, I'd mix up Freeman Wills Crofts and R. Austin Freeman.

Life after medical school has not been the success story Jarvis had hoped it to be. One day, he runs into his old friend John Thorndyke, who unlike him has made a bit of a name for himself as a medical expert in the field of legal problems. Jarvis is invited for dinner, but the friend's reunion is disturbed by Reuben Hornby and his lawyer, who look for Dr. Thorndyke's help. Diamonds kept in the safe of Reuben's uncle's safe have been stolen, and the one single clue left on the scene of the crime is a bloody thumb mark found on a piece of paper lying inside the safe, which was obviously not there when the diamonds were last seen. The thumb mark is that of Reuben, but he swears he has nothing to do with it. Thorndyke's interests are piqued, and he decides to hire his old friend Jarvis as an assistant while they do their own scientific investigation into what the police considers an open-and-shut case in R. Austin Freeman's The Red Thumb Mark (1907).

The infamous "zoom and enhance" scene we nowadays see in crime TV dramas is of course a bit silly (blowing up a photograph is not magically going to enhance its resolution), but it is a good example of how much science and technology has become a part of our world, and particularly, crime and mystery fiction. I'd guess that many people had of course heard of forensic techniques like DNA testing, tests for blood spatters and more, but obviously series like CSI helped inform the average viewer of what technology can do when fighting crime. Of course, science and technology has always been an important factor of mystery fiction. A mystery is solved by combining clues, and clues most often consist of tangible clues that can be obtained through an application of the sciences. Our first meeting with a certain Mr. Sherlock Holmes for example had him discover a new reliable test for blood stains, which he assures Dr. Watson and the reader would be the most practical discovery for the medico-legal world. But even something as simple as using plaster of Paris to preserve a footprint is an application of science.

So that we'd eventually get a detective who'd specialize completely in utilizing science and technology to solve crimes was not a surprise. R. Austin Freeman's Dr. Thorndyke is most often seen as the quintessential detective who champions the use of science in crime-fighting, and The Red Thumb Mark is in fact the very first novel in the Dr. Thorndyke series. I think I have read only one Dr. Thorndyke novel in a longaway past (The Eye of Osiris) and to be honest, I remember awfully little of that book, so perhaps it was good that I resumed my Thorndyke reading with the book that introduced the world to the scientific investigator.

In a way, I'd say that The Red Thumb Mark is almost more like a case-study than a mystery story. That is not fair to the novel perhaps and it's obviously a story of fiction (with some melodrama, even), but if you look at the core mystery plot, one could argue that the story's focus lies almost solely on the titular thumb mark, and by extension, the issue of fingerprints in general and their use in criminal investigation. Upon taking the case, Dr. Thorndyke devotes his time on examining the one damning clue in the whole case in an attempt to save Reuben. In the course of the story, Dr. Thorndyke will explain certain characteristics of fingerprints that show how they are not, like was thought back in the time, that fingerprints were the one-and-all clue. It is here where you do really feel that time has passed by a lot since The Red Thumb Mark was first published, because Dr. Thorndyke's might've been surprising back then to the reader, but the plot as is has troubles really standing out to a modern reader, as the caveats pointed out by Dr. Thorndyke are common knowledge now, and almost warrant for a shrug. In fact, I think the 'surprise' wore off pretty quick, as Edogawa Rampo also wrote a (translated) short story based on a similar idea (focusing on fingerprints), and there I think it worked better as the device was not meant to sustain a novel-length story, but just a short story.

When I say The Red Thumb Mark reminds me of a case-study, it's because it is basically looking at the practical uses of a certain topic (in this case fingerprints), with the story mostly serving as device to make it easier to swallow. There is of the course the mystery of how Dr. Thorndyke is going to solve Reuben is innocent, and there is even a courtroom drama segment as the finale, but "other stuff" like who the real culprit is, are only of secondary importance to the plot, and the real aim of this story is closer to "You may have heard of fingerprints as an important development in criminal investigation, but there are some caveats to that." While reading The Red Thumb Mark, I also had to think of Melville Davisson Post's Randolph Mason series, which basically presented case-study-esque stories based on rather silly US laws, but I think those stories worked better because of the more surprising settings. The Red Thumb Mark in comparison feels more dated, as we, as in the "average reader", have learnt so much more about things like fingerprints.

All in all, I thought The Red Thumb Mark had an okay-ish idea, but it does feel dated because it devotes all its energy at looking at one particular topic that has since grown less surprising. This is of course not the fault of the book itself, but it does mean that a modern reader has more trouble to genuinely admire the tale. I also can't shake away the feeling this novel feels more like a thought experiment focusing on fingerprints, despite the surrounding story and melodrama.

The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter

「パトカーの中で、〇〇〇は同じ言葉を何度も、何度も呟いていたらしい。何で自分は日本人じゃなかったんだ、何で彼女はアメリカ人じゃなかったんだと。まるで壊れたからくり人形のように、何度も、何度も繰り返して・・・」

『名探偵コナン』

"In the patrol car, X kept muttering the same words over and over again. Why wasn't I Japanese? Why wasn't she American? Like a broken puppet, repeating those words over and over again..."

"Detective Conan"

My reading pile of detective fiction is no more. It has ceased to be. It's expired and gone to meet his maker. Which means that I'll have to be content for the while being with my reading pile of secondary literature. Which is pretty fun actually. As a student, I have to write papers regularly and I do like it when I am able to use detective fiction for my academic writings. Even if I have to be a bit... creative at times. Imagined communities and early Japanese detective fiction was a bit of a stretch though. Even by my standards.

Hasebe Fumichika's Oubei Suiri Shousetsu Honyakushi ("A History of Western Detective Novel Translations") is precisely what the cover says it is: a history of translations of Western detective novels in Japan. To be more precise, early Western detective novels. The book was originally published in 1992 and won the Japanese Detective Writers Assocation Price (like Shakaibu Kisha, Kao, Honjin Satsujin Jiken and Geneijou). And it is certainly an entertaining and informative read. Hasabe looks at the history of Western detective novels in Japan by focusing on a set of authors he considers influential to Japanese writers. He looks at both the original publication dates in the country of origin as well at as the various publication sources / various translations in Japan and is thus mainly set in the Taisho and early Showa period (1912~36). Which is not always easy, because not only did early Japanese translations of Western fiction often have altered titles, some early translations were also more like free adaptations of the original story.  Which is also where I have to correct myself. I once wrote that R. Austin Freeman's The Eye of Osiris wasn't translated into Japanese until the 1950s, but that's not true. A serialization of the novel had actually started in the very first issue of Shinseinen in 1920 already (the mystery magazine of that time, where Edogawa Rampo also made his debut) under the name Hakkotsu no Nazo ("The Mystery of the White Bones")

Hasabe discusses the following writers in their own chapters: Agatha Christie, S.S. Van Dine, Johnston McCulley, R. Austin Freeman, Gaston Leroux, Freeman Will Crofts, Joseph Smith Fletcher, Alfred Machard, Maurice Leblanc, Edgar Wallace, John Dickson Carr, G.K. Chesterton and several authors he groups together as French writers, German writers and early short story writers. While most names are familiar, a name like McCulley (of the Zorro novels) might seem surprising. Which is what makes this book interesting to read, as it is a Japanese reception history of Western detective novels and occasionally you see how some writers were received differently across the sea. There are sometimes even surprising revelations, like for example when Hasebe writes that Japanese critics had low expectations of American writers in that time and that Edogawa Rampo thought that Van Dine's novels were OK, considering they were written by an American! Hasebe also gives an interesting description of the role of translators, who were actually very active with the material themselves. Translators often identified the materials suitable to translate and some of these men were very good in reading the market, for example finding and translating Agatha Christie's short stories to Japanese at a very early stage of their English publication.

Hasebe's study is pretty detailed on the supply side of the story, with much information on the many translations, publications, adaptations and children's adaptations of the various stories of the authors, but is sadly enough somewhat short on the demand side of the market. There is little to no information about the market itself, with most of Hasebe's story focusing on translators and publishers. He also does not explain why he deemed the authors he chose important. I assume it's because these authors / works had a great influence on early Japanese writers, but it is odd that Hasebe does not try to show this explicitly. He sometimes quotes Edogawa Rampo (mostly from his Forty Years of Detective Fiction memoirs) on how Rampo felt about certain books, but that is pretty much it. It would have made this book so much more interesting if Hasabe had made the connection between Western authors / novels and the Japanese authors / novels more clearly.

The book also misses a clear introduction or contextualization, which is actually quite necessary for the topic. The book is structured by the authors, but is quite unclear how Hasebe decided on this structure. Why Christie as the first author? This book needs more contextualization, especially in the sense of how the period this book describes forms a continuation on the Meiji period translations / adaptations (like by Kuroiwa Ruikou). Yes, I know there are specialist books for that (I have one actually) and I know that this is not a book 'beginners' in the genre would pick up, but I can very well imagine that this would be a somewhat confusing or boring read if you can't place it in the proper context.

Oubei Suiri Shousetsu Honyakushi is certainly a well-researched book, but it lacks a bit in portraying the information Hasaebe gathered as actually being relevant. It is a bit ambiguous now and some readers might find the list of translation publications bit boring to read without proper contextualization within the book. As a standalone book, it is too vague I think and while the topic concerns Western authors, I don't think a translation of this book would work at all, without the larger context of early translation practices and the introduction of detective fiction in Japan.

Original Japanese title(s): 長谷部史親  『欧米推理小説翻訳史』

The Sign of Four

『真偽の狭間』

"The treshold of truth and lie"

Having handed in my research proposal, it's finally, finally vacation. So there is finally time to work on my reading/watching backlog.

A fine start was R. Austin Freeman's The Eye of Osiris, which was once recommended as a must-read for the reader of Japanese detectives. And verily, it was so. With the bones of a chopped up body popping up here and there and a dispute regarding an inheritance (is there any other?), this 1911 novel is not only a great early work in the Golden Age style, it is decidely very proto-Japanese-detective-ish. In a very dry, English way. This is strangely enough my first Freeman novel, but his reputation precedes him. He is indeed a very, very sober writer. It suits the investigative style of his detective dr Thorndyke. And while the solution was quite easy to see, I think that's more because countless of other works are based on the same pattern set in this book.

And while The Eye of Osiris wasn't translated in Japanese till in the '50's, I wouldn't be surprised if Edogawa or some other early Japanse detective writer hadn't read it. Edogawa had certainly read Freeman's The Singing Bone and was quite content with it, so The Eye of Osiris might well have been a inspiration of works like Mojuu ("The Blind Beast").

Somewhat the inverse of Freeman's style is Raymond Chandler's The Lady in the Lake, a novel in his hardboiled Philip Marlowe series. While I'll admit The Long Goodbye was written wittier and more pleasant to read, there actually is a real puzzle plot in this novel. While it's not very surprising (especially not after reading The Eye of Osiris), it somehow feels good. Hardboiled and puzzle plots can work (see the Tantei Jinguuji game novels.) and this is a good example.

And I might be the stupidest reader ever, because not once, not once since I have known about this title, did I imagine that the story would in fact feature a lady. In a lake. Only when someone made a comment that the title was kinda scary while I was reading it in the International Student Center, did it hit me (at that time, no murder had occured yet). Somehow, when reading the words the lady in the lake, my head automatically connects it to Arthurian legend. Which is of course the lady of the lake, but I am no expert on Arthurian legends.

But yeah. Sometimes titles are just too obvious, so you suspect it means something else.

Most pleasant of the bunch was the American TV series A Nero Wolfe Mystery, based on the Nero Wolfe novels by Rex Stout. Having the slightly hardboiled (halfboiled?) Archie Goodwin work together with thinking machine / heavyweight food lover Nero Wolfe results in the-best-of-both-worlds concept, with puzzle plots spiced up with some hardboiled dialogue and scenes. Except for the milk drinking by Archie. While I have only read Some Buried Caesar, I quite like the '50-'51's radio drama The New Adventures of Nero Wolfe and having finished that, A Nero Wolfe Mystery piqued my interest.

And what a fine show it is! The music, the backgrounds, the acting is all a bit more gaudy than in real live and that really makes this show. Scenes of a slick Goodwin and an immensive Wolfe bouncing comments on each other are fantastically dynamic. Interesting for a TV production is how a small cast is used for this show. Like a theater troupe, the same cast members play the non-recurring roles for each episode, resulting in the actor playing the victim in one episode turning out to be playing the murderer in the next. While it adds a decisive flavor to the show, the fact I'm bad with names and faces does sometimes makes the show very confusing.

And today I finally watched the in Japan recently released Sherlock Holmes. Which was kinda like Arsene Lupin. In England. With explosions. And fights. And steampunk. And fights. And stuff. Arsene Lupin. Well, Arsene Lupin and Batman Begins. Especially the ending was quite Batman Begin-ish.

While I did like the effort to portray a Holmes never shown before, I think Downey Jr.'s Holmes was somewhat too Bohemian. And stuff. I fear that if I really delved into it, it would ultimately end on a negative note. I did like the Watson as a foil to Holmes though.

Wait. It suddenly hit me. The movie was kinda Detective Conan-ish. With explosions. And stuff.