Since Pushkin Vertigo reissued Soji Shimada's The Tokyo Zodiac Murders, I've discovered that I read more and more Japanese detective fiction. I've read the shin honkaku editions of The Decagon House Murders by Yukito Ayatsuji and The Moai Island Puzzle by Alice Arisugawa from Locked Room International, The Salvation of a Saint by Keigo Higashino Additionally, as I come across more of the excellent works that have been translated for our enjoyment, authors like Seicho Matsumoto and Kyotaro Nishimura are moving up the TBB list at an ever-increasing rate. Of course, it helps that these stories frequently feature improbable crimes, and the additional cross-cultural insights they provide only serve to increase their allure.
My introduction to honkaku came via Akimitsu Takagi's The Tattoo Murder Case, and, well, it's not a great start. Shin is Japanese for "new," and refers to more recent attempts at the genre. When Kirkus Reviews stated that this was "Calculated to outdo John Dickson Carr in both ghoulishness and ingenuity," they were forgetting that a) JDC wasn't really all that ghoulish and b) JDC wasn't really that ingenious. Yes, there is some wonderfully offhand cultural submersion, and an absolutely fascinating look at the counter-culture of tattoo obsessives in post-WWII Japan, and there is even.
It is no longer considered a mystery. The true solution would make an excellent herring to dangle in front of the reader's nose and then reveal about halfway through when they think they've solved it and are growing bored (which would be evocative of which author? CLUE: Jack's Nordic Horn (anag.)), but instead the characters stray into the kind of irrational assumption that obviously has to be the answer because it is only ever addressed in the vaguest of ways. This is about the fairest playest novel I've ever read, and I have to give Takagi credit for meticulously outlining every single point for the reader. Each action makes total sense in the context.yet that's also a major factor.
My only option of escape was the locked room, which was a terrible failure, especially since the murderous plot fizzled out around midway through (there were still killings, but they felt so...desultory). It uses the same technique as what I'm going to refer to as "the most famous work published by an author who only ever wrote pseudonymously" and is, thus, a modest technical achievement that is neither clever nor fascinating enough to get a mention.
What's worse is that the justification for the closed chamber is the worst cod-psychology imaginable. However, the entire last third is actually filled with terrible psychological dreck of the "The way he plays chess means he can't possibly be a murderer!" sort, which, well, just doesn't fly in this day and age. I am aware of the challenges involved in adapting a different mode of expression for these kinds of tales, and while at the time it may have seemed like a revelatory extension, time has not been kind to it in any way.
But aside from the mystery, it's actually quite good. The first 30 or so pages of this book revel in the detail of tattooing and the culture and taboos that have developed around it in a way that makes me want to read a book solely about that. For example, the size of a room is described in terms of "mats," and there is a sprinkle of lore surrounding foxes. I adored the odd structure as well.
(The detective who solves the crime doesn't show up until about halfway through, for example), but since I've recently become interested in an unusual story-form, I believe I'll like anything that successfully subverts these tropes. Unfortunately, the translation feels too workmanlike to allow you to fully unwind into this aspect of the text; what appears to be the occasional dissonant Westernism (cf. "I haven't got the foggiest") kept this seeming like a translation and occasionally distracted me from the plot.
So, a mishmash. Although it lacks the complexity of a true puzzle and the underlying impossibility of a locked room, it is nonetheless a very good representation of a subculture at a particular point in history. Unfortunately, even if I appreciate the new perspective it offered me on something, I'm here for the kills and the brains. At my age, it's good to continually be learning new things.
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