A Woman of Pleasure by Kiyoko Murata

In 1903, a fifteen-year-old girl named Aoi Ichi is sold to the most exclusive brothel in Kumamoto, Japan. Despite her modest beginnings in a southern fishing village, she becomes the protégée of an oiran, the highest-ranking courtesan at the brothel.

Through the teachings of her oiran, Shinonome, Ichi begins to understand the intertwined power of sex and money. And in her mandatory school lessons, her writing instructor, Tetsuko, encourages Ichi and the others to think clearly and express themselves. By banding together, the women organize a strike and walk away from the brothel and into the possibility of new lives.

Based on real-life events in Meiji-era Japan, award-winning and critically acclaimed veteran writer Kiyoko Murata re-creates in stunning detail the brutal yet vibrant lives of women in the red-light district at the turn of the twentieth century—the bond they share, the survival skills they pass down, and the power of owning one’s language.

Translated by Juliet Winters Carpenter

Review: The Meji Guillotine Murders by Futaro Yamada

Synopsis: Japan, 1869. A time of reform and rebellion.A classic Japanese mystery – a pair of sleuths investigate a series of bloody murders in 19th century Tokyo.

Detectives Kazuki and Kawaji are assigned to investigate a series of seemingly impossible murders. Together with the help of a mysterious shrine maiden, can they solve each gruesome death and piece together the dark connection between them?

~ ~ ~

This tale is told over a series of small stories, each with it's own mystery and solution, but all converge and are joined in the final chapter, where the over-arching narrative is revealed and mystery solved.

There are two main investigating characters from the Imperial Prosecuting Office: Kazuki (based on a real historical figure) and his partner, the fictional, Kawagi. As an additional character, we are introduced to the fay-life Esmeralda, who accompanies the object in the title - the guillotine - to Japan, and remains as a sort of spiritualist who divines clues from speaking with the victims. Can't say I was a fan of Esmeralda and at times wonder why she was included at all.

There are many themes in this narrative - corruption, reform, colonialisation, tradition, politics, religion, rivalry, jealousy - for mid to late 19th century Japan was undergoing much change with the introduction of Western ideas and the end of Japan's isolationist policies.

A slow moving pace may detract some readers, but it is worth persevering to the end when the mysteries of the shorter stories and finally understood.

Review: The Noh Mask Murder by Akimitsu Takagi

Synopsis: A bewildering locked-room murder occurs as an amateur crime writer investigates strange events in the Chizurui mansion in this prizewinning classic Japanese mystery.

This ingenously constructed masterpiece, written by one of Japan’s most celebrated crime writers and translated into English for the first time, is perfect for locked-room mystery fans who can’t resist a breathtaking conclusion.

In the Chizurui family mansion, a haunting presence casts a shadow over its residents. By night, an eerie figure, clad in a sinister Hannya mask is seen roaming around the house. An amateur murder mystery writer, Akimitsu Takagi, is sent to investigate — but his investigation takes a harrowing turn as tragedy strikes the Chizurui family.

Within the confines of a locked study, the head of the family is found dead, with only an ominous Hannya mask lying on the floor by his side and the lingering scent of jasmine in the air as clues to his mysterious murder.

As Takagi delves deeper into the perplexing case, he discovers a tangled web of secrets and grudges. Can he discover the link between the family and the curse of the Hannya mask? Who was the person who called the undertaker and asked for three coffins on the night of the murder? And do those three coffins mean the curse of the Hannya mask is about to strike again?

The Noh Mask Murder’s legendary ending offers locked-room mystery fans the perfect coda to an ingenously constructed mystery.

~ ~ ~

Japanese crime fiction is not a simple genre - it is complex, tedious, ingenious, complicated, enthralling, gruesome. There is a narrative that can be as long and winding as a mountain path - it is never direct and never clear-cut. It is an onion - each layer revealing something new, something deadly, something confusing, something linked, something delicious. 

Japanese crime fiction of the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s - or deductive reasoning fiction - is a genre that explores human driven motives that, as Seichō Matsumoto says "... originates from the psychology when people is left in the extreme situation..". 

An article from The Guardian discusses the art of "Honkaku" which refers "... to the crafting of fiendishly clever and complex puzzle scenarios".  In this same article, writer Haruta Yoshitame is said to have defined or described "Honkaku" as "... a detective story that mainly focuses on the process of a criminal investigation and values the entertainment derived from pure logical reasoning”."

The Noh Mask Murder is no different - the author narrates his own murder mystery, when he is called in to investigate by one Koichi Yangi, whose journals also form part of the narration.

As Takagi notes: "... unnatural facades have a habit of concealing sinister motives .." and as more family secrets are being revealed or unraveled as the case progresses, the corpses pile up. Prosecutor Ishikari observed that "... the Chizurui mansion was not a place where normal notions of justice held much sway ...". In fact, as the author notes, "... once the curtains had opened on the tragedy, the Chizurui family was plunged into catastrophe after catastrophe - and at a terrifying speed ...".

It is deliciously gripping narrative that slowly draws the reader into the spider web deftly woven around the key themes of family, suspicion, fear, hatred and death. No one is innocent but who is truly guilty ..? You must read on till the very end!

Review: The Devil's Flute Murders by Seishi Yokomizo

Synopsis: Locked room mysteries are hot again, and this classic from the golden age of crime presents a mind-bending Japanese mystery from the great Seishi Yokomizo, whose fictional detective Kosuke Kindaichi is a pop culture phenomenon akin to Sherlock Holmes.

This time the beloved scruffy sleuth Kosuke Kindaichi investigates a series of gruesome murders within the feuding family of a brooding, troubled composer, whose most famous work chills the blood of all who hear it.

Readers will be totally engrossed by one of Yokomizo’s most clever guessing games, in which everyone has something to hide…

~ ~ ~

The style is fairly consistent - and one the author Seishi Yolomizo explores well - deep, dark family secrets, which when brought into open, give birth to jealousy, greed and ultimately ... murder. And here again, we have all those elements: a family saga of love and hate, revenge and redemption; many suspects but always one whom you are least likely to suspect; a suspenseful mystery, tied together by a long narrative that conveys the essence of the story, location and characters to perfection. This is Yokomizo's trademark.

In this instance we have a mysterious disappearance, a locked room murder mystery, a jewel robbery, and the haunting and ominous tones of a flute. All set in post WWII Japan. And at the centre of it all is our sleuth - Ko suke Kindaichi.

I cannot recommend this series enough, with our detective, Kindaichi, who according to the local policeman, looks more like a criminal than a world famous detective and is a indolent as a cat when not on a case!

See my other reviews of the books of Seishi Yokomizo.

Review: The Village of Eight Graves by Seishi Yokomizo

Synopsis: The third title in Japan’s most popular murder mystery series — after The Honjin Murders and The Inugami Curse — fiendish classics featuring investigator Kosuke Kindaichi.

Nestled deep in the mist-shrouded mountains, The Village of Eight Graves takes its name from a bloody legend: in the Sixteenth Century eight samurais, who had taken refuge there along with a secret treasure, were murdered by the inhabitants, bringing a terrible curse down upon their village.

Centuries later a mysterious young man named Tatsuya arrives in town, bringing a spate of deadly poisonings in his wake. The inimitably scruffy and brilliant Kosuke Kindaichi investigates.

I cannot begin to say how much I am loving this series featuring the stuttering, dishevelled, shaggy-haired Japanese detective, Kosuke Kindaichi.  A long-time hit in Japan, but barely discovered here in the West until now, thanks to Pushkin Vertigo.  This is my third Kindaichi novel, having previously read The Honjin Murders and The Inugami Curse, so I literally jumped at the chance to read this one.

It is a slightly familiar format, and one the author Seishi Yolomizo explores well - deep, dark family secrets, which when brought into open, give birth to jealousy, greed and ultimately ... murder.  And here we have all those elements: a family saga of love and hate, revenge and redemption; many suspects but always one whom you are least likely to suspect; a suspenseful mystery, tied together by a long narrative that conveys the essence of the story, location and characters to perfection.

However, in this particular novel, the story begins much earlier - in the 1560s - with the murder of a group of samurai, a missing treasure and a curse.  Events rear their ugly head in the 1920s with the descendants of the village succumbing to the ancient curse.  By the time our story takes place (ie: 1940s), the village has become incredibly insular, and its villagers both suspicious and superstitious of everyone and everything. When events start to unravel along historic lines with the arrival of Tatsuya, the villagers can not but look to the past for an explanation.

In an interview published in The Guardian, Yokomizo's grandson On Nomoto, said: “Kindaichi tries to find out not just how someone has been killed but why it happened. And behind the story, it’s always connected to Japanese history.”

In the same article, Daniel Seton from Pushkin says of Yokomizo's novels: “It has all the ingredients that thrill fans of golden-age British and American mysteries ...... an old country house, a feuding family, mysterious noises in the night, a macabre murder and a brilliant sleuth with an ingenious solution. It’s also steeped in a distinctively Japanese atmosphere, and is packed full of playful references to the classics and traditions of crime writing.”

I love the character of Kosuke Kindaichi - a Japanese Columbo if you are wanting a comparison.  Kindaichi is portrayed as being slightly eccentric, wearing a robe and trousers that have seen better days, as well as having bad dandruff. He also gets easily stressed and excitable, which brings on his stuttering. And yet beneath all of the yokel-like exterior, is an exceedingly clever detective.  It goes to show that you should never judge a book by its cover (though Yokomizo's are fabulous!).

From what I can find, the next Kindaichi novel to be released is the fiendishly clever "Gokumon Island" said to be loosely inspired by Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None.  Perhaps the most highly regarded of all the great Seishi Yokomizo's classic Japanese mysteries, this novel is due for release in June 2022.  This particular novel was translated by Bryan Karetnyk .

Pushkin Vertigo have release 35 mysteries from various international writers - and I have read 25 of them!  You can find the list HERE. Yokomizo is featured among many incredible writers - I cannot but suggest the reader delve into these mysteries for themselves.

More on Kindaichi here 

@ The Thrilling Detective website

@ Black Hole Reviews

Yukio Mishima: The strange tale of Japan’s infamous novelist

From BBC Culture:

The theatrical life and death 50 years ago of one of Japan’s most celebrated and controversial authors created an enduring – but troubling myth, writes Thomas Graham.

Standing on a balcony, as if on stage, the small, immaculate figure appeals to the army assembled below. The figure is Yukio Mishima, real name Kimitake Hiraoka. He was Japan’s most famous living novelist when, on 25 November 1970, he went to an army base in Tokyo, kidnapped the commander, had him assemble the garrison, then tried to start a coup. He railed against the US-backed state and constitution, berated the soldiers for their submissiveness and challenged them to return the Emperor to his pre-war position as living god and national leader. The audience, at first politely quiet, or just stunned into silence, soon drowned him out with jeers. Mishima stepped back inside and said: “I don’t think they heard me.” Then he knelt down and killed himself by seppuku, the Samurai’s ritual suicide.

Mishima’s death shocked the Japanese public. He was a literary celebrity, a macho and provocative but also rather ridiculous character, perhaps akin to Norman Mailer in the US, or Michel Houellebecq in today’s France. But what had seemed to be posturing had suddenly become very real. It was the morning of the opening of the 64th session of the Diet, Japan’s parliament, and the Emperor himself was present. The prime minister’s speech on the government agenda for the coming year was somewhat overshadowed. No one had died by seppuku since the last days of World War Two.

read more here @ BBC Culture

Review: The Inugami Curse by Seishi Yokomizo

Synopsis: In 1940s Japan, the wealthy head of the Inugami Clan dies, setting off a chain of bizarre, gruesome murders. Detective Kindaichi must unravel the clan’s terrible secrets of forbidden liaisons, monstrous cruelty, and disguised identities to find the murderer.

After reading the Honjin Murders back in March, I was excited to receive a review copy of another Kosuke Kindaichi mystery. However, this does not directly follow the first in fact it is number six in the series, but the second only to have been translated into English (nothing is lost in the translation!).

Events are set roughly around 1947 - after the second world war - and involve a prominent Nasu family. Following the death of the patriarch, the reading of his will (with its very special conditions) plunges the family into a "series of bloody murders". Kindaichi is on the spot and is involved in the investigation from the very beginning.

To say the family is disfunctional would be an understatement - petty jealousies, long concealed secrets, simmering hatreds, questionable motives, a gruesome deaths - all provide a deliciously deceptive narrative, with more red herrings than a Dr Seuss book.  Don't worry if you lose track, Kindaichi provides a brief summary of his discoveries about two thirds of the way through.

As I mentioned in my review of the Honjin Murders, I do hope that more of Yokomizo's Kindaichi series are translated and released.

Side note: another reviewer mentioned the movie version. I tracked it down (the 1976 version at least) on youtube - loved it!.

Review: The Honjin Murders by Seishi Yokomizo

Synopsis: In the winter of 1937, the village of Okamura is abuzz with excitement over the forthcoming wedding of a son of the grand Ichiyanagi family. But amid the gossip over the approaching festivities, there is also a worrying rumour – it seems a sinister masked man has been asking questions about the Ichiyanagis around the village.

Then, on the night of the wedding, the Ichiyanagi family are woken by a terrible scream, followed by the sound of eerie music – death has come to Okamura, leaving no trace but a bloody samurai sword, thrust into the pristine snow outside the house. The murder seems impossible, but amateur detective Kosuke Kindaichi is determined to get to the bottom of it.

This setting, in 1930s Japan, sees a seemingly impossible double murder committed on the night of a wedding. Whilst the police investigate, one of the wedding guests calls in the services of renown private detective Kosuke Kindaichi who is described as ".. ungainly [in] manner, wild, [with] dishevelled hair and a stammer..." and man who ".. enjoyed putting on a show ..". All of this conceals razor sharp deduction skills that enable Kindaichi to solve the seemingly impossible crimes.

As we are propelled along with the investigation, Kindaichi seemingly takes over and many clues come to light and mysteries are solved. The final denoument occurs about three quarters of the way in and is covered off in the last few chapters.

Another theme running through this book was that of the class system that dominated Japanese society and culture at the time. There are many references to the feudal Edo society with its strict social stratification, customs, and regulations. Japanese people were assigned into a hierarchy of social classes based on the Four Occupations that were hereditary. The Emperor of Japan and the kuge were the official ruling class of Japan but had no power. The Shōgun of the Tokugawa clan, the daimyō, and their retainers of the samurai class administered Japan through their system of domains. Bu the majority of Edo society were commoners divided into peasant, craftsmen, and merchant classes, and various "untouchable" groups. 

At this time, Japan, like the rest of the world, was coming out of a depression and was becoming militarised as Japanese politics was gradually overtaken by the military with the invasion of Manchuria (1931) and the Japan-China War (1937) the most notable events. Many incidents occurred that undermined the government (coups and assassinations) as ultra-nationalist groups within the military sought to unite the nation under the emperor and introduce economic and social reforms. One by one, new measures were introduced to control and mobilize people, enterprises and resources. Most Japanese firms remained privately-owned but were heavily regulated to contribute to the war effort. Toward the end of the war, in order to boost heavy industries, consumption was greatly squeezed and light industries were suppressed. The textile industry (previously the leading industry of Japan) was virtually eliminated. The people were forced to live without a new supply of clothes and footwear. Steel products in structures and households were stripped as the metal source for building more airplanes and ships. External trade had all but ceased. In the end, the Japanese economy collapsed and defeat was inevitable. 

I am making a point to read more books that have been translated from their original language - and not just detective fiction. In this instance, I was drawn to the "locked door" mystery and was interested to see how this was interpreted.  What I also enjoyed was the reflective beginnings to this tale, told ten years after the fact and utilising facts garnered from the original investigation - so a little bit of back and forth in the timeline. 

For Yokomizo's detective, Kindaichi, this is one of many outings, in fact, there are 80 books featuring the popular detective, Kosuke Kindaichi. Hopefully, we will see many more translated and republished.

The Evolution of “The Tale of Genji”

In the 1,300-year history of Japanese literature, The Tale of Genji stands out as a seminal, quintessential work, and it has become a part of the lives of the Japanese people.

It has had to show a tenacious ability to thrive, however. Usually dramatic changes to the environment bring extinction to lifeforms that are unable to adapt. The classic example is the dinosaurs. In the same way, works of literature that were considered the cultural pinnacle of their time may rapidly fall out of fashion in the succeeding era as societal values and political and economic systems undergo major transformation.

Created at the height of aristocratic political dominance at the turn of the eleventh century, when there was still no developed monetary economy, Genji has nonetheless found readers through years of peace and bloodshed, samurai rule and democracy, and capitalism and information technology.

The story’s secret to ongoing relevance lies in its many cultural “mutations.” Its text has remained the same, naturally, but readers’ desires and the messages they have sought to find in the work have changed with the ages. And Genji has always succeeded in conveying new messages through the fresh interpretations developed by its close scholars, thereby adapting itself to the upheavals of history.

read more here @ Nippon dot com

Samurai Text Tells Secrets of Sword-Fighters' 'Supernatural Powers'

From Live Science: 

A newly translated samurai text called "Twelve Rules of the Sword" reveals the secrets of a sword-fighting school that mastered a technique that seemed to give supernatural powers.

Dating back to the 17th century, the text contains knowledge passed down from a samurai named Itō Ittōsai (born around 1560), who fought and won 33 duels in Japan. Researchers aren't sure when he died, but historical records suggest he may have lived to be over age 90. Ittōsai never wrote down his "Twelve Rules of the Sword," and instead passed them on orally to his students at the One Cut sword-fighting school. The descendants of his students later recorded them in writing.

The text describes rules for beating an opponent as well as two magical prayers to enhance a samurai's spirit and mind, according to Eric Shahan, who recently translated the text. Shahan is a Japanese translator who specializes in translating Japanese martial-arts texts. He also holds a San Dan (third-degree black belt) in Kobudō, a Japanese martial art.

read more here @ Live Science

Inside a 17th-Century 'Barbarian' Cookbook From Japan

From Gastro Obscura:

These day, treats including tempura, konpeitō hard candy, and fluffy castella cake are available in restaurants, convenience stores, and bakeries across Japan. It might seem hard to believe that these dishes, especially fried tempura, were once curiosities even to the Japanese. Early recipes for these things and more were compiled in a cookbook manuscript dating from the 17th century. It’s called the Nanban ryōrisho, or the “Southern Barbarians’ Cookbook.”

Who were the “southern barbarians?” According to Eric C. Rath, author of Food and Fantasy in Early Modern Japan, that was the term for the largely Portuguese Europeans who sailed to Japan beginning in the 16th century. As traders and missionaries, they brought along Christianity and Western technology. But they also brought their food.

The author is unknown, though Rath writes that they were obviously very familiar with Iberian cuisine, perhaps even knowing Portuguese and Spanish people personally. A collection of 45 recipes, which Rath translates in his book, the Barbarian’s Cookbook long existed as a handful of handwritten manuscripts in Japanese libraries, only to be published by the 20th century. The recipes therein offer a glimpse into changing attitudes towards food in Japan at the time, and the development of the nanban cuisine still enjoyed today.

The other half of the Barbarian’s Cookbook contained savory dishes, notable for the eggs and meat they required. At the time, lingering dietary taboos over both existed in Japan for health and religious reasons. 

By the time the Barbarian’s Cookbook was written, Christianity had been outlawed, and most foreigners prohibited from Japan. But nanban cuisine lingered. The sweet and meaty treats in the Barbarian’s Cookbook “became increasingly popular over the course of the Edo period,” writes Rath. But even today, many nanban treats remain favorites.

Earliest-known children’s adaptation of Japanese literary classic discovered in British Library | University of Cambridge

A chance discovery in the British Library has led to the discovery and reproduction of the earliest-known children’s adaptation of one of Japan’s greatest works of literature.

Dr Laura Moretti, from the Faculty of Asian and Middle Eastern Studies at Cambridge, came across an unknown children’s picture-book, dating from 1766, under the title of Ise fūryū: Utagaruta no hajimari (The Fashionable Ise: The Origins of Utagaruta) while on a study trip with her students.

The Tales of Ise has since been adapted and reinterpreted continually down the centuries as part of the canon of Japanese literature. 

Dr Moretti’s new book, Recasting the Past (Brill, 2016), presents a full-colour reproduction of the 18th century edition, alongside a transcription in modern Japanese, an English translation, and textual analysis. The publication of the 1766 adaptation of the Tales of Ise fills a gap in scholars’ understanding of the work’s history. Although much scholarship has taken place on the reception of Tales of Ise and its target audiences in different epochs, no one has previously explored the age of its readership.

read more here @ University of Cambridge