A Death in Tokyo - Keigo Higashino

 The best known novelist in Japan, says Abacus Books, the Japanese Srieg Larsson according to The Times.   I can see where they're coming from.   A Death in Tokyo is the third of the Detective Kaga Mysteries.   It is not my first acquaintance with the work of Keigo Higashino.   I read and reviewed The Devotion of Suspect X back in February 2017 but had completely forgotten about it.   Here, the 'mysteries' bit put me off - a tad cosy for my taste - but Higashino soon sucked me in.

A non-descript middleaged businessman is seen reeling through the nighttime streets.   The cop who sees him assumes he is drunk.   The man reaches the Nihonbashi Bridge and collapses below the statue of a mythical kirin.   At this point, the bear cop spots the knife sticking out of the man's chest.   Soon after, and not very far away, a young man dashes out into traffic and is run down by a truck.   Among his scanty possessions are the businessman's wallet and briefcase.   It's an open and shut case, surely.   The young man, Fuyuki Yashimo, killed the businessman, Takeaki Ayoagi.   The motive is obvious: Ayoagi sacked Yashimo after the young agency worker suffered an accident due to poor workplace safety and Yashimo needs money because his girlfriend is pregnant.   Ayoagi is DOA ar the hospital; Yashimo undergoes surgery and is left in a coma.   Confident of a confession if he recovers, happy to close the case if he doesn't, Tokyo police start the necessary inquiries.

Detective Kyochiro Kaga is paired up with his cousin Detective Shuhei Matsumiya.   Kaga is the older of the two but Matsumiya holds superior rank.   He is with Homicide whereas Kaga is a generalist at precinct level.   This creates an interesting dynamic, which Higashino handles beautifully.   The cousins are not rivals but it is Marsumiya who has to deal with superiors whilst Kaga has the freedom to wander off, physically and mentally.   They start off assuming that the employers of Ayoagi and former employers of Yashimo undertook some sort of cover-up over the accident; that Ayoagi felt guilty about it and contacted Yashimo to make peace.   But Kaga disovers that Ayoagi, not known as a religious man, was so far from home because he was undertaking a tour of famous shrines.   Does the mythical kirin on the bridge have significance.   Is that why Ayoagi fought to get there - to leave a last message?

Kaga and Matsumiya primarily deal with those left behind: Ayoagi's wife and teenaged children, and Yashimo's girlfriend Kaori Nakahara, who they support after Fuyuki, her childhood sweetheart, succumbs to his injuries.   The revelation, when it comes, is satisfactory, surprising, and handled with consummate elegance.   Higashino's tone is empathetic throughout.   There are no deep-dyed villains only victims keen to deal with their shortcomings.   Although I'm not going to take up cosy crime I am very much open to more Higashino.   Bearing in mind my previous experience, I shall stick to the Kaga strand for now.

The Girl with the Golden Eyes - Honore de Balzac

 The Girl with the Golden Eyes is the third of three novellas which Balzac grouped together as History of the Thirteen (1835).   Being part of the 'Scenes of Parisian Life' series, rather than the Comedie Humaine, there is a lot more descriptive material, part-opinionated, part-ironical.   I suspect a lot of modern readers skip that and plunge straight into the narrative.   I certainly did on first reading; on a more leisurely second reading, though, I rather enjoyed the discussion of the strata of Parisian life, in itself an ironical take on Dante's Inferno.

On to the story...   Henri de Marsay is a rich young philanderer, one of many illegitimate offspring of the English Lord Dudley.   Like all his fellows he is much taken with the mysterious and beautiful Paquita Valdes, the girl with the titular eyes.   Like his father, Henri is incredibly good-looking and completely devoid of moral scruples.   So he absolutely must add Paquita to his tally of conquests.   There is no question of love or marriage; this, after all, is the aristocratic upper teir of Parisian life.

The Thirteen is a secret society of self-serving adventurers, a cracking idea which Balzac utterly fails to deliver.   It runs through all three of the History novellas but is only central to the first.   Henri is obviously a member and his colleagues help him breach the defenses of the Maison Valdes.   He seduces Paquita, he deflowers her.   Then comes the breathtaking twist.   It's a corker.   Here, Balzac absolutely delivers.

I bought this New York Review of Books single novella version before I knew about The Thirteen.   Having read the very useful introduction by Robert Alter, I had to get the History.   Carol Cosman's translation seems fresher than Herbert J Hunt's for Penguin Classics.   So it should, it's twenty-five years younger.

The Shame Archive - Oliver Harris

 I've read and reviewed quite a few of Oliver Harris's bang-up-to-date spy thrillers.   The Shame Archive is another quality addition to the brand.   Elliot Kane, now out of MI6 and in the private sector, is called in when two of his Russian sources are brutally murdered.   Meanwhile someone calling themselves Eclipse is trying to blackmail MP's wife Rebecca Sinclair.   This is tricky because Rebecca is a former escort and her husband is a potential PM.   It all dates back to New Year's Eve 2008 when Rebecca was one of many girls hired to entertain guests of Opula, a Russian concierge business.   She doesn't remember much about the night but knows she was raped and found wandering the streets covered in blood and claiming to have murdered someone.   Nothing came of it, which she doesn't really understand, other than a man called Elliot Kane was involved and gave her his private phone number in case she needed him.

She needs him now, obviously, but that phone number is long out of date.   Meanwhile Elliot also becomes a target of Eclipse, as do many people far more important.   The thing is, Eclipse seems to have got his hands on a large trove of MI6's kompromat materials and is threatening to release it bit by bit. 

Elliot and Rebecca pursue their separate inquiries for most of the book.   I have to admit - my one reservation about The Shame Archive - Harris took the alternate chapter too far for my liking.   That said, when Rebecca and Elliot finally come together the sparks really fly.   The ending was a complete, thrill=packed stunner.   I guessed right about Eclipse but had absolutely no idea how it all tied in with Elliot.   Highly recommended, and I look forward to Harris's next.

The Old Enemy - Henry Porter

 This being my first encounter with the world of Henry Porter, I had not read previous Paul Samson thrillers.   It didn't matter: Porter soon caught my attention and brought me up to speed.   A lot has gone on in the past, clearly, but now is apparently the time to settle old scores.   A former spy legend, Robert Harland, is murdered on a Baltic beach.   International billionaire Denis Hisami is handed papers soaked with poisonous chemicals on his way to give evidence to a congressional committee in Washington DC.   And in London Paul Samson, ex-MI6, protege of Harland, friend of Hisami and lover of Hisami's wife Anastasia, is attacked by a knife-wielding beggar whilst doing some private sector work surveilling a young woman called Zoe Freemantle who is involved with a dubious not-for-profit eco-agency called Greenmantle.

From there, it's a matter of unravelling a complicated intrigue dating back to pre-1989 East Berlin and stretching all the way to the White House and Number 10 Downing Street.   In other words it's today's dystopia: Russian interference and its billionaire backers, especially the tech bros.   Porter does it really well.   He has the international aspect just right.   His characters are complex and compelling.   The final set-piece in the reconvened congressional hearing is absolutely masterful.   For once we actually need the post-climax epilogue to fully understand what just happened.   I was very impressed.   Henry Porter goes on my list of must-reads.

Ghost of an Idea - William Burns

 

Hauntology, Folk Horror and the spectre of nostalgia - that's the subtitle of this fascinating book by the culture commentator William Burns.   He rightly sees contemporary culture as dominated by considerations of the past - rightly so, given that the western world is currently threatened by an autocratic Nazi revival.   Hauntology is a difficult concept which is still evolving; it's all about the effect of a given locale through time.   Folk Horror is a phenomenon which regularly recurs through modern culture.   Both Burns and I are old enough to remember the revival of the occult in the last quarter of the last century, but there was a similar spate of interest in twenties, around the end of the 19th century, and before that the craft revival and the weird Pre-Raphaelite interest in medievalism.   Nostalgia Burns identifies as the negative force in all this.   Bringing back the best of the past is one thing as is recognising the effect the past has on our shared mindset.   Nostalgia, however, is the belief that the past was somehow better, which it never was.   In commercial terms - and Burns is discussing culture here - the negative is embodied in mindless remakes of classics which could otherwise be restored and enjoyed in their original form, and draining the last drop of value in franchises (see Disney and George Lucas).

I didn't always agree with Burns but his arguments never ceased to interest me.   I enjoyed many of the interviews with which he illustrates his main text, especially the ones about musicians who operate outside the mainstream.   Thanks to these, I have now signed up to and am actively exploring Bandcamp.   Ghost of an Idea is an essential text for those of us who have an interest in any or all the spheres it discusses.   I am on the lookout for Burns's earlier work, The Thrill of Replusion:Excursions into Horror Culture (2016).

Satori - Don Winslow

 Back in 1979 Rodney William Whitaker (1935-2005) wrote Shibumi, a spy novel, under his best-known pseudonym Trevanian.   In 2011 Don Winslow, author of The Cartel, wrote Satori, which is a prequel to Shibumi.   I am a die-hard fan of Winslow and am fascinated by Trevanian (see my review on this blog of his spoof spy novel The Loo Sanction).   I had to read Satori.

Trevanian's hero, Nicholai Hel, is a retired assassin.   Winslow's story, set more than a quarter century earlier, is why he retired.   Hel is the son of an exiled Russian aristocrat, born in Shanghai in 1925 who masters the game of Go under a Japanese master, who also happens to be a general in the Japanese army that invaded China in the Thirties.   After the Japanese surrender in 1945 Kishikawa is tried for war crimes.   Nicholai, who has also become a master of the Naked Kill, visits him in prison and, at the general's own request, murders him, for which he too is imprisoned and tortured.   Ultimately he is freed and recruited by the US Intelligence Service. in October 1951.

They embroil him in a complex plot to smuggle rocket launchers to the communist insurgents in Vietnam in the hope of preventing American involvement in the coming war.   In return Nicholai gets a new life plus the names of those who tortured him.   An added bonus is that the Rushian spy chief he gets to hoodwink and ultimately kill, is the man who seduced his mother and stole the family fortune.

It's all great fun, very cleverly plotted and of course beautifully written.   I love the way Winslow has a voice for each strand of his fiction whilst never losing the narrative force of simplicity.   I got lost in the later sections of the book, knowing absolutely nothing about the geography of south Asia, but I was always entertained and the concluding battle was highly sarisfactory.

The Weight of the Dead - Brian Hodge

 A novelette, a work of fiction longer than a short story, shorter than a novella, typically between seven and seventeen thousand words: that is what Brian Hodge has written here.   It turns out to be the perfect length.   Less would have been inadequate, more would have been padding.   It is a form I really must experiment with myself.

The Weight of the Dead is not post-apocalyptic, it is post-frazzle.   Within living memory the Day the Sun Roared caused a power surge which burned out all electrics, instantly turning the Technological World into what survivors called the World Ago.   Without tech or transport humankind reverted to nomadic lifestyles.   A generation later they began to settle into fortified villages, like the one Melody Banks lives in.   Melody is fourteen; the male of the species is being to notice her.   One such, Ted Harkin, became inappropriate, causing Melody's father Grady to beat his brains out.   Now Grady must pay the price.

The villagers are not barbarians.   They do not have the death penalty.   Instead, Grady Banks must bear the weight of his crime - literally.   Harkin's corpse is fastened to him and he is banished into the woods outside the defences until such time as his burden is lifted, either by death or putrefaction.  Obviously Melody can go out and visit, take her father food and necessary supplies, but she cannot take anything that might free him of Ted's corpse.

The woods are not entirely safe.   Myths and rumours have already evolved about the people who wander out there and what they might have become...

A really skilful, beautifully written and controlled, example of short weird fiction.

3 Days, 9 Months, 27 Years - John Scalzi

 Continuing the theme from my last post, 3 Days, 9 Months, 27 Years, is not a novelette, it is a longish short story.   John Scalzi is an award winning American novelist.

The theme here is time travel, which has become a reality in the not-so-distant future.   This future is a continuation of our world, so naturally it has become commercialised.   Cost of the tech makes it an elite luxury, perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime experience for others.   Our unnamed narrator is (apparently) the man who works the machine.

Scalzi takes the time to outline the process and its rules.   There are two chambers and two doors, one in, one out.   Customers go out to their chosen time, and come back a second later through the other door.   It is a second in our time but in theirs it has been either 3 days, 9 months, or 27 years.   These are the 'resonances' that have been found to work best.   It doesn't matter if they interact with their younger selves or successfully intervene in the assassination of JFK (the traditional rules of time travel fiction) because the moment they arrive in the past an alternate reality has been created, which then continues.   They can travel to any time in the past, near or distant, so long as it is longer than 27 years ago.   They cannot travel forward in time.   That is impossible because the future doesn't yet exist.   That is the official line.  But of course it is possible...

It is amazing how many ideas Scalzi gets into such a short work whilst carefully avoiding techno-babble or pontificting.   This is a thought-provoking read with a really effective twist.   I'm very impressed.

A Cold Wind from Moscow - Rory Clements

 The latest in the Tom Wilde series, A Cold Wind from Moscow is a particular rich example of what is best in a long-running series.   Time has moved on (to 1947 and the UK's coldest recorded winter), characters have developed and changed (Philip Eaton has apparently been outed as a 'useful idiot' for Stalin's Soviets) and new characters have stepped forward to take their place.   Freya Bentall, for example, is the de facto boss of MI5, albeit the former police gangbuster Percy Sillitoe is the nominal chief.   She asks Professor Wilde to take a short break from his university duties to try and identify which of three MI5 agents is possibly a double.   Meanwhile Uncle Joe Stalin has personal instructed his 'black work' specialist Lazar Lukin to go to the UK and stir up chaos in order to shield their prime nuclear asset Klaus Fuchs who, as Clement neatly points out, was the man who built the nuclear bombs of America, Britain and Russia.   Among Lukin's alloted tasks is the elimination of another veteran of Los Alamos, Basil Rheinhaus.   Reinhaus is a brilliant scientist with a gambling problem, which led Fuchs to try and recruit him as a Russian asset.   Reinhaus, however, preferred to report Fuchs to MI5 and is now in hiding.   One of Tom's suspects is Reinhaus' contact man.   He takes Wilde to an arty event at the home of the super-rich socialite Vivienne Chalke, at which Wilde recognises Reinhaus.   Then all hell breaks loose.

And, I almost forgot, the novel opens with the murder by ice axe of another MI5 agent in Tom's set at college.

A Cold Wind from Moscow is the best of the Wilde novels I have read to date.   Several of the supporting characters are superb, Vivienne Chalke for instance, and East End ice-axe man Terry Adnams.   Tom's wife Lydia is training to be a doctor at St Ursula's in London and I missed her dry wit, and I didn't take to the young woman the Wildes have drafted in to look after their young son.   Other than that, I found only one misjudgement on Clements' part: there is an unnecessary appearance by three of the actual Cambridge spies in the epilogue.   Why?   Unless, of course, that is our clue as to what comes next in the series?   We shall see.

The Strings are False - Louis MacNeice

 An Unfinished Autobiography is the subtitle and something of an understatement.   A Scarcely Begun Autobiography would be more accurate.   What it is, in detail, is a conflation of two manuscripts left with his friend E R Dodds in 1941 (when MacNeice was only 34) and not touched again until after MacNeice's death in 1963.   It is then padded out with another account by MacNeice of his childhood and an essay by John Hilton who knew him well at school and university.

There is thus nothing about MacNeice's innovative and important radio plays, virtually nothing about his writing or his close association with W H Auden and Stephen Spender.   The other member of the circle, Cecil Day Lewis, only merits a single line in The Strings are False; it as if MacNeice barely knew him.   Indeed, why anyone who seems determined to say nothing revelatory about himself or his emotional life should want to even start an autobiography defeats me.   His divorce - his wife ran off to America with their lodger, leaving MacNeice to bring up their year-old son alone - warrants only slightly more detail than Day-Lewis.   He doesn't bother to tell us the lodger's actual name (Charles Katzmann).

That said, this is all there is - the only personal writing MacNeice ever did.   Before the war (the time I am reseaching) MacNeice seems to have been the perpetual absentee in literary circles - always somewhere else - but nevertheless making a name for himself as poet and lecturer.   If you want to know about Auden in the Thirties (and again, I do) you have to read The Strings are False.   If you have to read The Strings are False, it helps to know quite about poetry of the 1930s and MacNeice's place in it.