This review originally appeared on Goodreads on July 19, 2017.

number9dream

By David Mitchell – Random House – December 18, 2007

Review by Robin Marx

I enjoyed The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet, and when I discovered Mitchell had an earlier book set in Japan, I was eager to check it out. While there are some great moments and I was eager to see where the story led, overall I was disappointed.

This book tells the story of a Miyake Eiji, a youth from rural Japan who travels to Tokyo in a search for the father he never knew. Eiji also has a propensity for vivid dreaming, both of the waking and nocturnal varieties, and as a result the line between real world events and fantasy are frequently blurred.

The book is at its best when Mitchell describes Tokyo (a city in which I've lived nearly half my life) and the island of Yakushima (which I've had the pleasure of visiting), but the surrealistic interludes became more and more unwanted and intrusive as the book continued. Very few of them enhanced or illustrated the core narrative, and the recurring “Goatwriter” meta-fiction sequence was particularly extraneous and masturbatory.

Apparently this book was a sort of blatant homage to Murakami Haruki (who is name-checked in this book), and had I known that in advance, I wouldn't have bothered. I've assiduously avoided reading Murakami, as everything I've heard about his work has convinced me that his work is tepid surrealism for boring people too timid to venture outside of the capital-L Literary ghetto and pick up a decent fantasy or weird fiction novel. The more tedious portions of this book certainly mesh with the perception I've formed of Murakami's work.

I'm a big fan of surrealism, from classics like Robert Chambers' The King in Yellow and Other Horror Stories to more modern work by people like China Mieville, but it just didn't work for me in this book. The more grounded parts of the story—like Eiji's childhood interactions with his sister, reading his grandfather's diary, his letters from his mother, even his somewhat unconvincing romance with a piano student—worked far better than the dream interludes.

Even more so than the hallucinatory fever dreams, it was the dialogue of this book that I found the most unrealistic. The characters all spoke like New York literary novel cut-outs, not living and breathing Japanese people. All of the customer service staff presented throughout the book speak in aggressive or dismissive manners that ring false to anyone who has spent any amount of time in Japan, for example. His characters are all demonstrative and outspoken, not indirect or concerned with propriety or hurt feelings in the way most Japanese people tend to be with acquaintances and coworkers. Early on in the book there's even a pun (“Company?” “No, I came alone”) that only works if the Japanese characters are speaking to each other in English. Mitchell apparently spent eight years living in Hiroshima and has a Japanese wife, but I suspect he never picked up much of the language. His portrayal of Japanese people is frustrating because his portrayal of Japan itself is so good.

Mitchell is a talented writer, there are glimmers of that here, but he wastes too much verbiage on stylistic trickery when a more straightforward approach would suffice. There's an entertaining portrayal of Japan and a nicely human story here, but it's absolutely suffocated by literary wankery and cruft.

★★☆☆☆

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This review originally appeared on Goodreads on April 21, 2012.

The Tokaido Road: A Novel of Feudal Japan

By Lucia St. Clair Robson – Forge Books – November 29, 2005

Review by Robin Marx

This historical novel was a mixed bag. It had the best sense of place of any Westerner-penned novel about feudal Japan I've read and the characters were appealing, but its length and incredibly slow pace as well as the relatively unexciting plot hurt an otherwise appealing book.

This book was incredibly well-researched. I'm fairly well-versed in the Edo period and fluent in Japanese, and I could find very few nits to pick. The author demonstrated such a broad grasp of Japanese history that I was surprised to find out that her other books are set in historical America. I was pleased to see samurai Japan faithfully brought to life, and everything seemed authentic.

While I thoroughly appreciated the detail that went into the book, there were also times where it was overkill. Much of the detail explained at length for Western reader's benefit described facets of life that a Japanese character of the time would've found unremarkable, and probably could've been safely glossed over.

The plot was also slightly disappointing. It's sort of a prequel to the Loyal 47 Ronin historical incident, which all Japanese people are intimately familiar with through theatre, film, and novels. The basic premise involves a revenge plot against the conniving samurai Lord Kira, who provokes rival Lord Asano into drawing his sword while in the Shogun's estate, a capital crime. After Asano's death, 47 of his retainers lie low for a couple years before avenging their former lord in a bloody, dramatic fashion. That's the historical tale, but this book focuses on Asano's fictional illegitimate daughter Cat. Hoping to round up her father's remaining loyalists and prepare for vengeance, she escapes from the brothel she works at and makes an epic journey along the eastern sea route (the eponymous Tokaido) to her father's fief. Her journey is mostly entertaining, but the book reads almost like an unabridged travelogue, with no detail spared. Several colorful characters drift in and out, but most are largely inconsequential to the narrative. Without giving too much away, her journey concludes in a less than triumphant manner, and the actual Loyal 47 Ronin revenge saga is resolved in about a dozen pages, with our heroine relegated to the sidelines. If you're familiar with the story through film and history books that's not a critical flaw, but those less of a background in Japanese history might feel slighted by the abrupt resolution.

While plot and pacing were a little on the weak side, I did enjoy the characters. Cat is beautiful, brave, and determined, but those qualities are balanced out by arrogance and occasional episodes of pettiness and imperiousness. Ronin bounty hunter Hanshiro lives up to the archetype while still avoiding becoming a cliche. He seemed like the kind of character Kurosawa's favorite leading man Mifune Toshiro would play. Peasant girl Kasane is a gullible bumpkin, but her loyalty and fundamental kindness endear her to both Cat and the reader.

Overall this book was a bit of a slog. Rich in detail, but meandering and overly long. I enjoyed the world it presented and the characters appearing within, but probably a third of the book's length was extraneous. I'd recommend it to fans of Japanese history and samurai, but those with only a passing interest in these topics would probably find this book frustratingly slow.

★★★☆☆

#CapsuleReviewArchive #BookReview #Literature #HistoricalFiction #Japan #TheTokaidoRoad #LuciaStClairRobson

This review originally appeared on Goodreads on April 21, 2012.

The Blade Itself

By Joe Abercrombie – Pyr – September 6, 2007

Review by Robin Marx

This is the best recent fantasy story I've read in years. However, while it hearkens back to the grim earthiness and visceral action of the sword & sorcery tales I love, it perpetuates one of the most obnoxious trends in modern fantasy: the trilogy.

It was vehement criticism that attracted me to this book, oddly enough. Some fantasy fans seem to consider Joe Abercrombie the vanguard of a fantasy sub-genre they've dubbed “the new nihilism.” His books are bad because they're morally ambiguous. His characters are flawed, often in very nasty ways. “Nobles” tend not to be. There's a lot of gore. Unlike a lot of recent fantasy, he presents a world that's ugly and stinks and people shit and sometimes die for very little reason at all. I read all this criticism and thought “Sign me up!”

The characters were great. He takes archetypes (a dashing noble, an uncultured barbarian with a rough code of honor) and subverts them. They have flaws. Not Hollywood flaws, superficial quirks, but some pretty massive defects. “They're not people I'd want to be in the same room with” seems to be a frequent complaint. I can understand that, I probably wouldn't SURVIVE being in the same room with them. But what they are is interesting, in a way that is unfortunately uncommon in a lot of recent fantasy.

The action—and there's a lot of it—was also pretty exhilarating. Visceral in the truest, chunkiest sense of the word. Combat is an ugly, desperate thing, and if it takes groin-kicking and eye-gouging to get our heroes through a fight, well, those are tactics they don't think twice about adopting.

However, while I was thoroughly engrossed by the characters, their exploits, and the presentation, I was still left vaguely disappointed by the end of the book. I considered knocking down my ratin