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A review by swampkun
The Meiji Guillotine Murders by Fūtarō Yamada
challenging
informative
mysterious
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
Thank you NetGalley and Pushkin Press for the opportunity to read this book! My spoiler-free review lies below, cradling its head in its hands:
My opinion on this book warmed so much the more I read—while it started feeling a bit like I was pushing through a fairly dense history book at the beginning, by the middle I couldn’t put the book down. The final 40 or so pages were devoured, leaving me thrilled.
For readers expecting a cozy murder mystery or a classic detective novel, know that this is more similar to a bound anthology in nature: our pair of detectives (technically government investigators) investigate five murders over the course of about a year, with the help of a French miko and a gaggle of dimwitted by useful rasotsu. The overarching through line is the interrogation of a Just Government—is it possible for a governing body to be free of corruption, to mete out justice, and to be manned transparently? The two main characters grapple with this throughout, within the heavily-detailed setting of early Meiji Japan.
At times the historical background and set dressing felt dry, and many of the less-fleshed-out characters bled into each other. I think in large part, this is due to my reading this out of it’s original context: many of the characters in the story, including one of the protagonists, are important figures in Japanese history. Even if Japanese readers aren’t necessarily familiar with all of them by name, the backdrop of the Meiji Restoration is enough to provide sufficient context. I can’t fault the writer or the translator for my own ignorance on the topic—I think it’s just worth noting to anyone picking up this book that they may get more of a history lesson than they may anticipate, as this element is less advertised in the summary.
While reading this book, I tried to keep in mind the context of it’s original publication—the late 1970s were a period of marked political, economic, and social change for Japan—and how the novel’s setting must have resonated with readers at that time. What’s more, I feel that Pushkin Vertigo’s decision to publish this book in 2023 is equally as timely. The feel of complete helplessness in a time of political turmoil is just as overwhelming now as it was for the characters in 1869, and I find both protagonists’ diametric ideals about government to echo public sentiment today.
Overall, I had hoped for a detective story and got something a little bit more than that. It wasn’t what I expected, and it had a slightly slow start, but the last chapter left me thinking about it a lot more than I probably would have if it were just another whodunnit. 4/5 stars.
My opinion on this book warmed so much the more I read—while it started feeling a bit like I was pushing through a fairly dense history book at the beginning, by the middle I couldn’t put the book down. The final 40 or so pages were devoured, leaving me thrilled.
For readers expecting a cozy murder mystery or a classic detective novel, know that this is more similar to a bound anthology in nature: our pair of detectives (technically government investigators) investigate five murders over the course of about a year, with the help of a French miko and a gaggle of dimwitted by useful rasotsu. The overarching through line is the interrogation of a Just Government—is it possible for a governing body to be free of corruption, to mete out justice, and to be manned transparently? The two main characters grapple with this throughout, within the heavily-detailed setting of early Meiji Japan.
At times the historical background and set dressing felt dry, and many of the less-fleshed-out characters bled into each other. I think in large part, this is due to my reading this out of it’s original context: many of the characters in the story, including one of the protagonists, are important figures in Japanese history. Even if Japanese readers aren’t necessarily familiar with all of them by name, the backdrop of the Meiji Restoration is enough to provide sufficient context. I can’t fault the writer or the translator for my own ignorance on the topic—I think it’s just worth noting to anyone picking up this book that they may get more of a history lesson than they may anticipate, as this element is less advertised in the summary.
While reading this book, I tried to keep in mind the context of it’s original publication—the late 1970s were a period of marked political, economic, and social change for Japan—and how the novel’s setting must have resonated with readers at that time. What’s more, I feel that Pushkin Vertigo’s decision to publish this book in 2023 is equally as timely. The feel of complete helplessness in a time of political turmoil is just as overwhelming now as it was for the characters in 1869, and I find both protagonists’ diametric ideals about government to echo public sentiment today.
Overall, I had hoped for a detective story and got something a little bit more than that. It wasn’t what I expected, and it had a slightly slow start, but the last chapter left me thinking about it a lot more than I probably would have if it were just another whodunnit. 4/5 stars.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Death, Murder, and Xenophobia
The story includes clinical descriptions of corpses and how their deaths came to pass. The characters also express era- and region-typical xenophobia, distrusting any non-Japanese nationals.