Farewell, My Lovely

「どうして幸せになるおうと思わないんだって聴いてるんだ！」　流の問いに達也は少し考えた後にこう答えた。

「僕の憧れた仮面ライダーは改造人間なんですよ」

「ああ、それはもう聴いた」

「この有名なフレーズの後にこう続くことは知ってますか？『彼らは決して再び人間に戻ることは出来ない』と。それでも人間のために闘うんだ。自分のことは度外視して」

『今出川ルヴォワール』

"I am asking you why you don't even try to attain happiness!" Tatsuya took a while to think about Mitsuru's question and then answered: "I wanted to be like Kamen Rider, an artificial human."

"You already said that."

"Do you know what comes after that famous phrase? They will never be able to turn back into humans. But despite that, they fight for humankind. Ignoring their own troubles."

"Imadegawa Revoir"

Something backstage, but I finally updated the library. Something I hadn't done since July. I really should learn to do it whenever I post a new review, instead of just staring at an evergrowing backlog of entries to be added.

Have I ever spoken about my love for the Japanese bunkobon pocket format? Most of the books I buy are in those format (which also explains why I seldom read new releases, which are usually released as hardcovers first). They have better paper and durability than the pockets you usually see in the English-language releases, but the best part is just the size. First of all, it's a universal size (as opposed to the ever-changing sizes of English-languge pockets), meaning I can use my custom book covers on all of them. Secondly, you can read bunkobon with just one hand! I can stand in a packed train with no space to move and still read a book! And I can fit in my coat pocket just as easy! I really wish such a format was available for English releases too.

Revoir series
Marutamachi Revoir
Karasuma Revoir
Imadegawa Revoir
Kawaramachi Revoir 

Van Madoy's Imadegawa Revoir is the third book in the Revoir series and was released just a couple of weeks ago actually (so no bunkobon available yet, sadly enough). I usually don't read new releases, but seeing as Van Madoy himself is going to hold a reading club session of the book at the Mystery Club this week, I just had to read it (which also explains the Karasuma Revoir review earlier this week). The story starts very surprisingly with a Gathering of the Twin Dragons where Midou Tatsuya, Dragon of the Tatsuki family and one of the protagonists of the series, is accused of the act of murder on a monk of the Daionji temple in Kyoto. Daionji was once a gambling heaven, with the grand Gongon'e gambling tournament held on the day before and on the day itself of the famous Kyoto festival, Daimonji. The revenge Tatsuya has been planning, which was alluded to in the previous works, seems indeed to be directed at Daionji temple and the Gongon'e, but did he really kill someone out of revenge?

Probably the first time that I read multiple books in the same series within one week. But I am glad that it was the Revoir series, because Imadegawa Revoir felt very different and refreshing, even though at the same time, it retains its identity as a Revoir story. I already noted it in my review of Karasuma Revoir, but Madoy seems to try something completely different with every story, whilst preserving the series' characteristics. Imadegawa Revoir makes another big change in the structure: whereas Marutamachi Revoir and Karasuma Revoir were structured to have a climax in a Gathering of the Dragons, Imadegawa actually starts with a Gathering of the Twin Dragons, with the main part of the story focusing on the great gambling tournament Gongon'e.

At this point, I might once again point attention to the fact that Van Madoy belonged to the Kyoto University Mystery Club. Why? Well, this is probably something slightly less known outside the circle itself, but there is a lot of mahjong playing in the club room. The rumbling of mahjong tiles is something you will get used to very fast. We have also specialist mahjong manga magazines lying around here, together with classics like Kaiji and Akagi. Heck, Ayatsuji Yukito is not only known as a mystery writer, but also as a mean mahjong player. So it is not very strange to see such influences in the Revoir series. In fact, there have been many, many mahjong references up until now, but Imadegawa Revoir really feels like a gambling manga when the Gongon'e tournament starts, with people trying to outplay each other (or outright cheat, if they don't have the skills to play fair). But no problem if you don't know mahjong: the important games in this novel are about a card game called Ootori, with few rules, yet with enough room for very exciting scenes.

And no, there are no card games on motorcycles.

Like mentioned, the dynamics of this novel are quite different from the previous two novels: the first part is a classic Gathering of the Twin Dragons like we have seen before, with fast-paced deduction battles between the two competing Dragons (prosecution and defense). The Gongon'e tournament part feels, for obvious reasons, less like a classic detective novel, with the focus a bit scrambled, looking at both Tatsuya's ties with his family and the Daionji temple and the actual games played at the Gongon'e, with a lot happening in between. It is a bit chaotic and the complete picture feels less organized compared to the much cleaner Marutamachi Revoir and Karasuma Revoir.

Card games (gambling games) aren't as different from the normal Gathering of the Twin Dragons trials as you would initially think: in both events, the players try to outbluff their opponement with the little ammunition they obtain, be it through luck or through expertise. And you can cheat as long as you don't get found out. The difference here is that the Gathering of the Twin Dragons is much more flexible: Dragons fight with theories, with deductions, which can go into a wide variety of directions. Because of the singular rules of the card game Ootori, players do have a range of options (cooperation, non-cooperation, stealing points from opponents etc.), but it is naturally less freedom than you have with theories. In the end, it is a card game with rules to abide to. These Gatherings of the Twin Dragons were at their best when you had no idea who would come up with what kind of theory/interpretation based on the evidence available, but here the player's actions feel confined to the cards and the rules of the game, removing a lot of the trademark impredictibility of the series. Also, th usage of a tournament set up to drive forth the plot results in another loss in the trademark impredictibility of the series, because you know how a tournament works: with winners of single duels progressing until they reach the finals. With the Gathering of the Twin Dragons, you never knew what was going to happen.

But the bigger question, is this still a detective novel? It is definitely a mystery novel in the wide sense of the term, but the trial of Midou Tatsuya (ergo the investigation into the murder of the murdered monk) is resolved in the first part of the story, with no real big mystery left to drive the plot forwards (there are some less important plot-related mysteries, but they aren't able to support a complete story on their own). While the approach to it was different, both Marutamachi Revoir and Karasuma Revoir were about finding a truth, an explanation for possible murder cases by creating theories and finding (or fabricating) evidence. Imadegawa Revoir loses this aspect early in the story. That is not to say that there is nothing left to solve in the second half of the story (especially the events during the finals of the Gongon'e are interesting!), with just enough hinting to consider those fair mysteries, but they feel more like a side-dish than the main.

Finally, just an observation, but this novel felt the most connected to the city of Kyoto of all three Revoir novels. All novels are named after the streets in Kyoto and the geography and cityscape of Kyoto are all featured in the Revoir novels (especially the areas near Kyoto University, for obvious reasons), but I think that those who are familiar with Kyoto will be very pleased in the surprising way the city and its customs appears in this story (and with that I mean at the end).

Anyway, Imadegawa Revoir was once again Revoir-ish in the sense of it being totally different from what I'd expected it to be. The direction this novel took kinda limited the usage of the series' settings I think, but such changes at least save the series from becoming stale and it worked to an extent in this case. Sudden changes are just part of Revoir. And the story ends on a cliffhanger-of-sorts, so I hope a new Revoir appears next year too!

Original Japanese title(s): 円居挽　『今出川ルヴォワール』

Murder, Smoke, and Shadows

「著者の投げる手袋は『人形はなぜ殺される？』」

『人形はなぜ殺される』 

"So the author throws down his glove down before you, asking 'Why were the dolls killed?'"

"Why Were The Dolls Killed" 

Already something that happened last week, but because I kinda forgot to preorder the Animal Crossing 3DS LL pack, I visited a lot of shops last week on the release day to see if some shops still had them. I now have to wait until half December, but at least I managed to order it now. But setting that aside, why would you run across a store to the game corner to buy the new Animal Crossing / the Animal Crossing 3DS LL pack if you already have a preorder reservation slip for that day? It is not like they will sell the copy with your name on it to someone else. And it wasn't like those customers were all in a hurry, as evidenced by them hanging around the game corner for quite some time, telephoning people to say they secured the goods. Anyway, that was the biggest mystery I encountered last week.

Takagi Akimitsu's Ningyou wa Naze Korosareru ("Why Were The Dolls Killed?") is widely considered one of the best Japanese detective novels. I think that Nikaidou Reito considers it one of the best detective novels ever, while recently Ayatsuji Yukito also tweeted his own Takagi top 5, with this novel at one. Anyway, I knew that sooner or later I had to read this book. (Considering it has been like two or three years since I first heard of the novel, it means it became quite a bit later, but anyway...) During a performance organized by an amateur magician's club, the head of a human doll that was to be used for a guillotine trick is stolen. The puppet's doll is later discovered, being switched with the real head of a woman who has decapitated on a guillotine block herself! Kamizu Kyousuke and Matsushita Kenzou team up again to solve the problem of the 'killed' doll. And the actually killed woman.

The plot develops even further after the initial murder, but I have to say: I had problems getting through the book. Takagi writes... not boring exactly, but definitely dry. Compared with contemporaries like Edogawa Rampo and Yokomizo Seishi, Takagi's writings are a bit hard to get through smoothly. I already felt it with Noumen Satsujin Jiken, so I guess that this is just his style. It's a bit of a waste though, because he could have done so much more with the theme of the puppets and the whole magician club thingy (then again, Takagi also kinda dropped the ball on the creepy atmosphere in Shisei Satsujin Jiken).

But to get back to the actual story: it's good! Very good indeed. I think that Ningyou wa Naze Korosareru best point lies in its construction: a whole variety of tricks is used in this novel, but the usage of them makes sense in the context of the story. Takagi weaves all kinds of tricks together in one coherent structure and whereas in many novels a succession of different kind of tricks (i.e. alibi trick, locked room trick) might feel like indeed nothing more than a succession of tricks, the tricks used in Ningyou wa Naze Korosareru add up to something more than just the total sum of its components. I quite liked Crofts' Mystery on Southampton Water, which also featured a wide variety of detective tropes in its plot, but the way it is done in Ningyou wa Naze Korosareru feels more satisfying.

And the title of the book is in fact a Challenge to the Reader itself! There is a proper one in the story too, but it all boils down to the question: why were the dolls killed?

I haven't read that much Takagi (in fact, the number of books I've read by him probably equals the number of his books translated in English), but at least his orthodox detective fiction seems to form a nice little set wit Yokomizo Seishi. Yokomizo's best works are set in postwar Japan, but in little, rural villages where the customs of pre-war Japan still live on. The detective (outsider) has to work in small isolated communities, with power struggles exist between young/old, poor/rich, main families/branch families etc (see reviews of Honjin Satsujin Jiken and Akuryoutou for more on that). Takagi's novels are also set in postwar Japan, but in much more urban environments and the stories revolve around the middle/upper class of society. Some of them may become socially and economically somewhat weaker because of the abolation of the nobility structure in Japanese law, but they, together with the 'new' postwar rich, are still a very influential class with 'expensive' hobbies like mask collecting or tattoo studies. They show a very different kind of postwar Japan than Yokomizo and it is not strange to see that Takagi also moves towards more shakaiha-esque (social school) novels during his career.

Anyway, I definitely understand why Ningyou wa Naze Korosareru is considered a classic.To me, its merits lies in its construction and not the storytelling, but it is certainly worth a read. Even if you have to fight through the dry text.

Original Japanese title(s):  高木彬光 『人形はなぜ殺される』

Turnabout Goodbyes

「天翔ける龍の牙をかわしたところで吹き荒れる風に体の自由を奪われ爪によって引き裂かれる」

『るろうに剣心』

"Even if you manage avoid the fangs of the dragon soaring into the heaven, you will not be able to move freely because of the raging wind and be teared apart by its claws"

"Rurouni Kenshin"

Now that the temperature has finally started to drop beneath 15 degrees Celsius here in Kyoto, I noticed that the heat insulation of my room is absolutely horrible. I should move my laptop away from the window. I am actually wearing a coat inside my room as I'm writing this (I could just switch on the heater of course, theoretically).

Revoir series
Marutamachi Revoir
Karasuma Revoir
Imadegawa Revoir
Kawaramachi Revoir 

Van Madoy's Karasuma Revoir is set one month after the events of Marutachi Revoir and is once again centered around the Gathering of the Twin Dragons: a private trial which has been a custom in the city of Kyoto as long as people can remember. There is nothing legally binding to the outcomes of these trials, but you would be a fool to not honor the verdicts, because all the influental families in Kyoto are connected to the Gathering one way or another. The trials are 'performed' by people called Dragons, who act as prosecutor (Yellow Dragon) or defense attorney (Blue Dragon) at the trials. The Dragons have the task of presenting plausible cases to the judge and audience: note that this does not mean that they have to present the truth. The competence of a Dragons lies in his/her ability in presenting a whole variety of interpretations and theories based the evidence, as well as on-the-spot improvising and showmanship. In short: they need to think fast and speak interestingly.

We were introduced to the Tatsuki clan of Dragons in the previous novel, led by the young Rakka. At the end of Marutamachi Revoir, the clan gained some new blood, something definitely needed for their next Gathering of the Twin Dragons. The trial has been requested by the two remaining living Ayaori brothers, who are fighting over the rights to the ancient book Kiboronaiki. It used to belonged to their brother, who has died in a mysterious car accident. The Tatsuki clan acts for brother Fumirou, while brother Takerou seems to have somehow found Sangetsu The Whisper, a legendary masked Dragon dressed in a black cloak, who disappeared years ago. What makes it even worse is that Sangetsu used to work for the Tatsuki clan, which means he knows all of their techniques.

Karasuma Revoir is the second novel in Van Madoy's Revoir series, but it reads very differently from Marutamachi Revoir, despite the story revolving around the Gathering again. The previous novel was clearly structured in two halves: the investigation prior to the trial, and with the action, deducing and surprises reserved for the actual Gathering of the Twin Dragons itself. This time however, most of the story is spent on the investigation, where the Dragons of the Tatsuki clan try to find evidence that proves that brother Takerou is guilty of murdering the eldest Ayaori brother (whether it is true or not). In most novels I know, the investigation phases are relatively the most boring parts of the stories, but nothing could be more different in Karasuma Revoir.

As I mentioned before: the Gathering of the Twin Dragons isn't about the law, and Dragons have to act as investigators themselves. They have to locate and secure evidence themselves. Result: Dragons are mostly busy trying to 1) find evidence, 2) falsify evidence, 3) making sure their own evidence doesn't fall in the hands of the rival Dragonr and 4) making sure they can get their hands on the evidence of the rival Dragon. In short: you have a group of fairly intelligent people who are trying to outthink and outsmart each other. With logic.

It results in a dynamic you usually just don't see in detective novels. I mentioned constantly switching between offense and defense with my own deductions in Ooyama Seichirou's Misshitsu Shuushuuka, where every time I thought I was closing in on the truth, I was harshly told otherwise: in Karasuma Revoir, everyone is constantly forced to switch between offense and defense with their deductions regarding the case and what the rival Dragon is planning to do. It is reminiscent of the manga Spiral ~ Suiri no Kizuna, which was also about outsmarting the enemy with logical deductions.

Once set in motion, the Revoir stories just seem to flow, with people reacting to each other's deductions, resulting in new discoveries which in turn lead to new deductions. Madoy keeps feeding the reader, as well as his own characters, new turnabouts which change the direction of the story, but not in a way that feels artificial. In The Da Vinci Code for example, events and cliffhangers just seem to be plot devices to get the characters from A to B. In the Revoir stories, all the turnabouts are actual crucial parts of the overall story, being results of the logical actions of the story actors (even if at first, this might not be clear). What at first might seem like a cheap development just to lengthen the story, will actually turn out to be a vital part in the (logical) chain of events that lead up to the final conclusion of the story.

As a sequel to Marutamachi Revoir, Karasuma Revoir feels quite different and yet familiar. The story features the same protagonists, and also tells us more about the Gathering of the Twin Dragons and the Tatsuki clan. Karasuma Revoir is technically also split in an investigation and trial phase like its predecessor, but the way Madoy shifted the focus of the story to the investigation phase, really changes the dynamics of the story. I guess that Madoy not only wants to keep his readers on their toes with his individual books, but also with his series as a whole. And I would say that he succeeded with Karasuma Revoir.

Original Japanese title(s): 円居挽　『烏丸ルヴォワール』

『狂った一頁』

「こういう普通でない性格を、精神病というようですわね。だから、わたしは精神病なのでしょう。しかし、わたし自身は病気だなんて考えていません。人間の大 多数の性格や習慣が正しくて、それとちがったごく少数のものの性格は病気だときめてしまうことが、わたしにはまだよくわからないのです。正しいって、いっ たい、どういうことなのでしょうか。多数決なのでしょうか」

『化人幻戯』

"My irregular nature, I think they call it a psychological disorder. So I am suffering from a psychological disorder. But I don't think I am mad at all. To say that the customs and minds of the majority of human kind is right and that the minority is mad, that is something I don't understand. What is right? Is it just majority rule?"

"The Inhuman Illusion Game"

Oh wait, so I hadn't posted yet this month?

For some reason, I really thought I had posted one or two reviews already since entering November. Hmm. Anyway, today is just a Short Short, because these two books really don't offer enough for a longer review, but I do want to mention them. Assuming I won't forget it again, I have some more reviews coming up the following days. Of some fairly famous Japanese titles too. And I know that one of them, or at least an adaptation, is available in French too, so there, I occassionally do discuss stuff available outside of Japan!

The title of Onda Riku's Maze refers to a mysterious gigantic white structure is standing in the middle of a dried up riverbed in a mountainous area somewhere in Asia. It has gone by several names since ancient times: a sacred place, a place that can not be, a place that should not be. Nobody even knows whether the structure is a natural structure, or man-made. Inside the structure, winding walls make up a maze-like interior. Records exist of mysterious disappearances of people who dare to enter the structure, though there are also people who come back out of it alive. Why do some people disappear, whilst others seem to have no problem? A group of four people are sent to the structure, nicknamed toufu because of its form, to investigate it. But not to investigate what makes people disappear or why, only what the rules are for the disappearances.

What starts out as a story with a great, spooky atmosphere, suggesting a logical rule-deducing story in a science-fiction horror setting, sadly enough ends up as a very, very disappointing story where the solution to the mystery behind the toufu block manages to destroy every that was fun to the story up to that point. This story would have worked so much better as a real science-fiction horror mystery, rather than attempting to force a 'realistic' solution to it. The first part of the story is reminiscent of the town of Kurouzuchou in Itou Junji's famous manga Uzumaki (which is recommended reading!), both featuring a seemingly sentient location with (evil) designs on those who dare to enter it. This part is really good, and the parts where Mitsuru, the detective in Maze, tries to deduce the rules/conditions behind those who vanish from the toufu block are where the story shines.

But the ending is really horrible. And that's all I have on Maze's latter half.

Mari Yukiko's Futarigurui ("Folie à deux") on the other hand was awesome, even though it is very different from the books I normally read. It is a short story collection, all centered around disorders, delusions and the like, for example erotomania, mass hysteria and the titular Folie à deux. The first story introduces us to a succesful female writer who is being stalked by a man whose name happens to be the same as the protagonist of the writer's story, but the great thing about Futarigurui is that all the stories are interconnected.  The second story is for example about a little restaurant in a department store, which happens to be the place where the stalker from the first story works. At first, these stories seem only loosely connected, but as you progress in Futarigurui, you'll uncover more and more connections between the stories, and yes, the seperate stories actually make up one coherent whole story in the end.

It is somewhat reminiscent of the videogame 428 ~ Fuusa sareta Shibuya de, where seperate storylines make up one coherent story, though the interconnectivity in Futarigurui is not as complex. Though I have to say, the book can be quite confusing because there is a lot of jumping in time, and it does help to write down all the events that happen chronologically as you go.

But like I said, Futarigurui is very different from what I normally read. This is not a classic mystery novel in any sense: the stories are all structured around some mysterious / creepy event (the titular delusions and disorders), that are meant to captivate the reader by the use of surprise endings. But like I said, I liked Futarigurui quite a lot, not only because of the well-constructed overall story, but also because the individual stories are really fun. They're all about disorders and stuff, but the people suffering from them usually start out very normal. As the story progresses, they slowly start to change, but these changes are very natural and it wasn't rare for me to suddenly realize that I was totally sympathizing with the madness painted on these pages. Folie à deux it is!

Sorry for the short reviews, but like I said, interesting stuff coming up the following days (of course, by actually saying this, something is bound to pop up to prevent me from actually posting said interesting stuff in the following days).

Original Japanese title(s): 恩田陸　『Maze』, 真梨幸子　『ふたり狂い』

「密室こそ本格の華！密室こそ本格の基本！密室こそ本格の夢！」

「あの、密室蒐集家ってどなたですか？」

「いわゆる『密室の殺人』が起きると、どこからともなく現れて解決すると言われている謎の人物や」

『密室蒐集家』

"Who is the Locked Room Collector?"

"A mysterious man. They say whenever a locked room murder happens, he just appears out of nowhere and solves it"

"The Locked Room Collector"

As much as I love reading short stories, I have to admit I usually do find it kinda hard to difficult to review short story collection here. At least, I think it's difficult to keep a balance between writing about the collection, as, well, as a collection (one whole), and the individual stories. I usually tend to go for the latter, resulting in tedious summaries for each story (and because it usually results in having to write more, I tend to shave some corners on the actual reviewing of those stories). On the other hand, usually the quality between the short stories in a collection changes quite a bit, and as a reader, I would prefer to know more about the individual stories myself rather than the collection as a whole, so there is always the problem of how to tackle these things. Usually, I just go for what pops up in my mind though for my posts here.

Misshitsu Shuushuuka ("The Locked Room Collector") is a short story collection by Ooyama Seiichirou published earlier this month. I think this is the first time I've ever reviewed a book so close after its release (not counting manga). Ooyama is an old member of the Kyoto University Mystery Club, but I had only read one scenario by him in the PSP game Trick X Logic. Me no Kabe no Misshitsu ("A Locked Room With Walls of Eyes") was one of the best stories in the game though and I also chose it as one of the most memorable stories I read last year, so it was just a matter of time before I would actually start reading more of him. Well, that, and the fact that this book was available to borrow and looked easy to read did bump it up my reading pile.

Anyway, the five stories collected here are all locked room murder stories, set in different periods and places (though often Kyoto) in Japan. The one thing connecting these independent murders is the Locked Room Collector, an almost legendary person (entity?) who mysteriously pops up whenever a locked room murder occurs. Seemingly a man around his thirties, the Locked Room Collector has built up a reputation of being able to solve all locked room murders and the police will thus happily accept his assistance, but nothing more is known about him. In fact, it is very probable that the Locked Room Collector is just some kind of fairy that appears around locked room murders or something like that.

Yanagi no Sono ("Garden of Willows") is set in Kyoto, 1937 and is very reminiscent of Higashigawa Tokuya's Kirigamine's Humiliation and Kirigamine Ryou's Second Humiliation: this story is also about an impossible disappearance at a schoolbuilding in the form of the letter E. A girl student who went back to the schoolbuilding in the night because she had left her copy of The Tragedy of X outside in the garden, happens to be witness of the shooting of a teacher in the music room. Because of the curtains, she couldn't see the murderer, but she quickly calls for the teacher on watch. The room is locked from the inside though and only after the caretaker (who has the key) comes, are they able to open the door, only to find the dead teacher there.

This is at one hand quite an ingenious story, because even though it is relatively short, the deduction chain based on a single piece of evidence is very impressive and it is rare to see such Queenian deductions used in a locked room mystery. The downside is that at times this deduction chain is not that convincing, making assumptions that aren't as indisputable Ooyama/the Locked Room Collector would like you to think. Overall, it's a very good story though that sets a high standard the whole volume manages to keep.

In Shounen to Shoujo no Misshitsu ("A Boy and a Girl's Locked Room") (1953), a house is being watched by the police, because they have information an illegal cigarette deal will be done there. The house faces the streets on three sides, with the back facing its back neighbor house (which in turn is also facing the streets on three sides). During the stakeout, one policeman notices that the inhabitant of the next door house coming back, and a bit later her boyfriend too. After having caught their man, the policeman thinks it strange the couple didn't react at all to the ruckus they made during the arrest and takes a look inside the house next door, only to find the boy and girl stabbed to death. But how did the murderer escape from the house, as the streets were all watched by policemen?

This is a surprisingly complex story for its page count and really shows off Ooyama's knack for constructing awesome impossible situations in a limited amount of pages. The way Ooyama solves these situations feel very Queenian (even without using the elimination method of deduction) and Ooyama is probably very aware of that. Like Queen's dying message stories, Ooyama will often suggest several very plausible solutions, only to show that he has thought about that too and that he has made sure that those solutions are impossible under the circumstances (for people thinking of Queen's Mr Long and Mr Short, this is a different kind of story!). This story does rely on some coincidences, but that doesn't weaken the fundamental puzzle at all.

Shisha wa Naze Ochiru ("Why Did The Body Fall?") (1969) starts with a young paintress being harrassed by her old boyfriend, asking her to break off her engagement and come back to him. During their fight, they see a woman falling from the apartment above: the hostess living above seems to have commited suicide. They call for the police, but they find a knife in the victim's back, meaning this was murder. Even stranger is that the victim had been dead for almost three hours before her drop to the ground floor. When the police go up to the victim's room though, the door is locked (and the chain-lock is on too), meaning the murderer got away from a locked room.

A relatively simple story, but by this volume's standards, that still means it's a fairly complex story. Once again Ooyama likes to dangle plausible solutions in front of you before showing he has eliminated those possibilities already, forcing you find new solutions and interpretations constantly. This is also related to Ooyama's excellent placing of hints. The most innocently-looking comments will suddenly turn out to be the weak point in your own deductions, while at the same time being the crucial hints leading to the true solution. It's like you have to switch between offense and defense with your deductions constantly as you read these stories, which makes these stories fun to read not only on a contents/story level, but also on the level of interactivity.

Wake Ari no Misshitsu ("A Locked Room with Problems") (1985) is my favorite story of the collection. It starts with the murderer having commited his crime and preparing everything to create a locked room. After this inverted prologue, we (and the police) are presented with an interesting problem: why was the locked room made in the first place? The murderer in fact did everything to ensure that the police would see that it was a genuine locked room murder: the murderer actually made the call to the police, to ensure that the police would be the first ones to discover the body. And while a common trick is to lock a room from outside, only to return the key after the locked room has been opened (so it seems it was inside the whole time), this is also impossible, because the only key to the room was found inside the victim's stomach!

While this whole collection feels meta in general,  Wake Ari no Misshitsu really brings the meta-conciousness up to a different level by having a murderer who actively wants the police to find out the locked room trick he used, going as far as to personally arrange things that other, more conventional tricks would have been impossible. In a way, this is what Ooyama has been doing all the time now with this collection, but having it now used as a story plot is just amazing. I have to admit though that the hints leading to the murderer and the murderer's locked room trick aren't that special, but it is the meta-discussion that arises from the motive behind the locked room murder that makes this story so memorable.

Kayako no Yane ni Yuki Furitsumu ("Snow Packing on Kayako's Roof") (2001) starts with a failed suicide attempt by Kayako in the forest. She is found by a local young doctor, who brings Kayako back to her own house/clinic. The doctor treats Kayako for the day, but the following day the police knock on the door and as the doctor doesn't answer the door, Kayako opens it. It seems someone called the police saying the doctor was murderer in her own house, which turns out to be totally true. Problem: the doctor is murdered, the only other person in the house was Kayako and the only footprints in the snow leading away and from the house, are those of the doctor when she went out for groceries the previous day. Conclusion: Kayako is the murderer.

Well, of course she isn't. I thought that this was the simplest story of the bunch, but it still a very well constructed puzzler, where Ooyama manages to kill off most of your deductions with slyly hidden hints in the text, while at the same time leaving enough hints that lead to the real solution. Here Ooyama also follows a Queenian chain of deduction, starting with one small hint that lead to a wide variety of interpretations and deductions. A story that shows that puzzlers don't have to be overly complex to be fun anyway.

A great short story collection that shows love for the locked room. It manages to present locked room murders as Queenian puzzler plots, which is a feat on its own, but the high standard of every story is just amazing. My only complaint would just be that five stories are way too few to keep the reader satisfied!

Original Japanese title(s): 大山誠一郎　『密室蒐集家』: 「柳の園」 / 「少年と少女の密室」 / 「死者はなぜ落ちる」 / 「理由（わけ）ありの密室」 / 「佳也子の屋根に雪ふりつむ」

Towards Zero

「ミスティ、オレも一つだけ教えといてやる。男の体に傷一つないのは自慢にはならん。男にとって体の傷は勇気の証、いわば勲章だ！傷の痛み一つ知らんお前に勝利はあり得ない！」 

『聖闘士星矢』

"Misty, I will tell you this! Having no scars on your body is nothing to brag about! For a man, a scar is a symbol of courage, a medal of honor! No way you can beat me without even knowing what it is to feel pain!"

"Saint Seiya"

Putting about twenty people in one room to proofread for several days is not good for their health. The so-called "battlefield" that is editing the Mystery Club's annual publication is quite taxing as is, but the battlefield cold that almost everyone catches is just as bad. In a way, it is proof you were there though. Oh, for those who can read Japanese and are interested how Kyoto University Mystery Club's annual publication Souanoshiro/Souajou (both readings possible) is made: Van Madoy has written a short article on that this week (with photo's from the club room and this year's battlefield).

When I first started reading Japanese detective fiction, I couldn't actually read Japanese, meaning I had to be content with the few translated novels that were available. And with what I could actually procure, as some translations were old and out of print already by the time I started looking for them. One translated writer I could never get my hands on was Natsuki Shizuko, of whom several novels were translated in English. I wanted to read one title particularly, the translated version of W no Higeki ("The Tragedy of W"), because of obvious Queen-fandom reasons. I can actually read the original now, or watch one of the many TV and movie adaptations of the book (there was a new drama version broadcast this year too), but when I saw the German translation of the English translation of the book in the bookcase of the Mystery Club, I just couldn't resist it. So I borrowed Mord am Fujiyama (translation of Murder at Mount Fuji).

Every year, the wealthy Wada family gathers at one of their villas on New Year. This is usually a private matter, and even the servants are sent back home allowing the family to have absolute privacy, but this year is different. The 22-year old Chiyo is working on her thesis on English literature, with the assistance of the American Jane Prescott, who studies Japanese literature at the Tokyo Women's University. Because of that, Chiyo has invited Jane to the mansion too, so they can continue working on her thesis there too. During their stay however, an believable accident happens: Chiyo's great-uncle Youhei (the head of the family), is found murdered, with Chiyo admitting to the murder. Because the family wants to protect Chiyo (and to protect their family name), they decide to make it seem like the old man was murdered by an outsider, coming up with an intricate web of lies to deceive the police. But things don't go as planned...

Because of the (original Japanese) title, I had hoped that this novel would be like one of Queen's novels, but it isn't. The family gathering setting reminds more of Christie than Queen, and while there are some Queenian moments near the end of the novel, but the novel feels a bit... light. Even though it didn't had to be. The first part of the novel works out like an inverted novel, and the plan they made to make it seem like an outsider killed Youhei is actually quite ingenious. The police however very quickly finds out what is happening and even though that is an integral part of the plot, the way the police sees through the Wadas plan is a bit too easy compared to the immense efforts the family went through to set the whole scheme up! For the plot to work, the plan had to fail, but the balance of the effort/reward of going through the whole plan for the reader is a bit off: with an inverted mystery, you usually don't want to see the whole thing falling to pieces almost immediately.

The whole book felt a bit too two-hour-drama-ish for my taste. I am not sure when the tropes of that particular Japanese TV special formula came to be (this book was first published in 1982), but the non-urban environment, the outsider (Jane) setting, the 'dramatic' ending with the heroine facing off against the criminal, it's all here. I had 'problems' especially with Jane as a character, because I had no idea why she had to be a foreigner (in a way, a double outsider: not one of the family and a foreigner) for this story to work. In fact, in most screens adaptations, she is changed to a Japanese woman (also because of the supply of available actresses, probably) and I would think that works just as well.

And the title change from The Tragedy of W to Murder at Mount Fuji? Let's blame orientalism and a lacking interest in (and knowledge of) Golden Age detective novels when the translation was published. Seriously, titles like Murder in Japan or Death in the Family say just as much about the contents as Murder at Mount Fuji. And regarding the German title, I hope we all know that Fujiyama is an erronous reading.

Original Japanese title(s): 夏樹静子　『Ｗの悲劇』

Double Shock

「壊れたものは直るけど欠けたものは直らないんだよ」

『クビシメロマンチスト』

"You can fix something that's broken, but you can't fix something that was missing from the beginning"

"Strangulation Romanticist"

And I still remember that sight like it was yesterday. There I was, sitting behind my computer, ready to write the first proper review in weeks. It was nine o' clock. The book in question besides me, I had already made notes about the things I liked, nothing standing between me and a review. And that sight was in fact not yesterday, but this morning (it's afternoon as I am writing this). I haven't written anything between then and now. I am very good at not being productive.

Which also explains why it took me about three weeks to finish Anthoney Berkeley's Jumping Jenny. Not because of the book itself though, certainly not that. But these things just happen. Anyway, Jumping Jenny. A much praised book by Berkeley and I can certainly understand why. Mystery writer and amateur detective Roger Sheringham is at a party where the guests are all dressed up as famous murderers. Amongst the guests is a Mrs Stratton, who is nothing more than a total nuisance to everyone (but her husband is probably the biggest sufferer). So nobody was really sad when they found her dead body hanging from one of the fake gallows erected for the party. Roger is convinced that the victim's husband is the guilty party, but because he believes the world is definitely better off without her, he tries to fix the evidence so it seems like Mrs. Stratton commited suicide.

The joke however is that this novel is (in principle) an inverted mystery and the reader knows what caused the death of Mrs. Stratton. And it is definitely not what Sheringham is thinking. Jumping Jenny is actually a double inverted mystery that manages to play wonderfully with the format: we first see the events that lead up to Mrs. Stratton in classic inverted style. In a normal mystery, we would see a detective arrive at the scene and have him solve the case. The fun we usually derive from such inverted mysteries, like Columbo and Furuhata Ninzaburou, is usually one of two types: usually you will be cheering for the detective, and enjoyment is derived from seeing the detective slowly, but surely closing in on his target. Sometimes you root for the murderer, because the victim was someone who really had it coming to him/her. For both types, the intellectual battles between murderer and detective are usually the highlight of such stories.

The way I read Jumping Jenny however, didn't fit any of these types. I wasn't rooting for the murderer, nor for the detective. I was hoping the detective would fail. Not because I thought the murderer should have gone free: but Roger Sheringham is portrayed as a character you want to see fail. He is the self-concious Amateur Detective: he comes up with grand theories and notices small things no other people would notice. He is the Thinking Machine of the story. It however also places him in a state of mind other detectives occasionally seem to visit too: he thinks he is always right, and that he has the right to judge. In Jumping Jenny, Sheringham is a) convinced that Mr. Stratton is the murderer and b) convinced that he should try to help him, even if it means perjury and having to fix fake evidence.

So here we have the initial murder, told in an inverted style and then an on-going inverted story where Sheringham is commiting the crime of faking evidence and inputting witnesses with fake memories! And it is told in such a way, that the Detective is the Criminal. In the end, I ended up rooting for the Proper Authorities, which is something you don't often do in novels with amateur detectives.

Considering Berkeley wrote early inverted mystery novel Malice Afterthought (as Francis Iles), the way this novel plays with the inverted mystery is wonderfully meta-concious. In a way, you might consider this an anti-mystery, or at least a critique (and loving parody at the same time) of the flawless amateur detective who can act freely from the proper authorities. It works here great (at the expense of Sheringham), and it makes Jumping Jenny a recommended read.

And somewhat off-topic, but I do think that is kinda ridiculous that the Japanese translated version of this novel is actually a lot cheaper (even though translations are relatively expensive) than the current English version in print.