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Our Assessment:
B : a very mixed bag, but entertaining enough See our review for fuller assessment.
From the Reviews: - Return to top of the page - The complete review's Review:
The Silent Dead is the first in a series of police procedurals featuring twenty-nine year-old Reiko Himekawa, who made lieutenant two years earlier and is now a squad leader in the Homicide Division of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.
Her success on the job at such a young age may impress, but her mother is more worried that she still hasn't settled down and married yet, and keeps setting her up on dates (which, more often than not, Reiko manages to evade or cut short).
Reiko also comes with other baggage: something terrible happened to her when she was still in high school ("That black summer when she was seventeen years old"), and its after-effects still linger; the basics are fairly clear fairly early on, but Honda waits until about midway in the novel before unveiling the whole ugly story.
(It also proves significant in explaining why Reiko joined the police.)
On the train, with would-be gropers, she had notched a tally of seventeen broken fingers and two broken arms. At work, her record was more modest: six broken fingers and sero arms -- but she had kneed three guys in the balls and concussed a few by knocking their legs out from under them.(Obviously, the Tokyo police does not have a very good sexual harassment policy -- reporting it, or being (officially) disciplined for it doesn't seem to be one of the alternatives. On the others hand, the commuters who attacked Reiko don't seem to be making police brutality charges despite their broken limbs either: apparently everyone thinks this is somehow normal.) Beyond the unprofessional behavior of the police, it's interesting to see how they work. Few carry guns, while they enjoy long lunches on the job at a variety of appealing-sounding restaurants (the characters do sit down to eat a lot, and enjoy a lot of good food): no brown-bagging it for these cops. Perhaps most amusingly, the police apparently have very few cars at their disposal, and travel almost everywhere by train and taxi (!). This has obvious drawbacks, too, as readers are reminded when Reiko and a partner are underway yet again: The conversation tapered off. Discussing a case in any depth on the train was never easy. Since anyone could listen in, you had to lower your voice and pussyfoot around the subject.By the standards of most US and European crime fiction, it all sounds almost charmingly unprofessional. (Odd too is Reiko's habit of booking a hotel room when she's working a case: she still lives at home with mom and dad, but when she's on the case she prefers to rent a room closer to the station -- apparently (if hardly believably) not such a great extravagance.) As to the crime itself, it involves something called 'Strawberry Night' (which was also the (yes, English) title of the original Japanese edition of this novel, and is a beautiful example of Japanese (mis)appropriation of English, almost entirely pointless and inappropriate (though, at a stretch, sort of explicable)). Readers have been prepared -- by the nature of the crimes that have been revealed, as well as the glimpses of the one participant introduced right at the beginning -- for some of the gruesome nature of what is involved, but it turns out to be spectacularly (and not in a good way) more gruesome than imagined. And, also, again, fairly implausible (including that it hadn't been discovered previously). The procedural part is, in equal parts interesting and frustrating because of pretty much everyone insisting on going it on their own: officers constantly ditch their partners (though key to the successful capture of the perpetrators is one officer who tails another (for the wrong reasons, but ...)), and go against protocol by stealing witnesses or preventing information from being passed on to those it is intended for. (Honestly, this Homicide Division sounds less professional than the corrupt sheriff's offices from two-bit 1940's US dime novels ....) Reiko is disliked and undermined by several of her colleagues on the force, but at least Honda doesn't go for the most obvious explanations to who is (also) behind the crimes, and this final turn of events is -- if no less silly than much before -- satisfying enough. Honda actually touches on a lot of topics of interest, and addresses them in interesting ways, from Reiko's marital status as a (professional and family) issue to the various ways career-paths in the police are facilitated or otherwise unfold (some fast-tracked because of well-positioned relatives, others happily slogging along in smaller roles), or, for example, the general interaction among the various police officers, on and off the job. The one perpetrator introduced anonymously in the book's opening scene is also an intriguing tragic character -- and one of the ones Honda actually manages to carry through to the end, as he captures her tortured self impressively in the final scenes -- but what's missing here is a fuller portrait, the middle, as it were. Elsewhere, Honda just shows too little follow-through: admittedly, as the first in a series, there's room for these characters and their relationships to grow in later volumes, but it's disappointing that so much which is thrown, sometimes forcefully, into the fray (Reiko's possible inter-office romance; Reiko's relationship with her mother) is left so much up in the air. The Silent Dead is kind of a mess, and kind of silly, and the translation (and editing) makes for some bizarre reading ("What sort of time was that ?" is one police-question that was surely meant to be something like: 'When was that ?' or "At what time was that ?'), and even the crime being investigated isn't mined for nearly all that it could offer, but there's enough here that it consistently reads quite well and it is reasonably entertaining. Except for the way he teases readers about what happened to Reiko when she was seventeen -- drawing out the big reveal -- Honda does pace the narrative well, and even the far-fetched coincidences can somehow pass in this story. Not meant to be comic (for the most part), The Silent Dead is nevertheless frequently over-the-top -- but, disarmingly, not, like most contemporary crime thrillers, simply with regard to the crime being investigated, but rather with the most mundane and everyday things, especially the interoffice relationships. It's all decidedly odd, but somehow winning too. - M.A.Orthofer, 16 October 2016 - Return to top of the page - The Silent Dead:
- Return to top of the page - Japanese author Honda Tetsuya (誉田哲也) was born in 1969. - Return to top of the page -
© 2016-2017 the complete review
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