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Tokyo Trilogy #1
Tokyo Year Zero
On August 15, 1946—the first anniversary of the Japanese surrender—the partially decomposed, raped, and strangled bodies of two women are found in Shiba Park. More murders will soon be uncovered: women killed in the same way, and, it becomes clear, by the same hand.
Narrated by the irreverent, despairing yet determined Detective Minami of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, Tokyo Year Zero tells a fictionalized story of the real-life hunt for “the Japanese Bluebeard”—a decorated Imperial soldier who raped and murdered at least ten women amid the bleak turmoil of post-war Japan (“one huge sea of displaced persons . . . one minute here and one minute gone”). And it is the story of Detective Minami: chasing down, and haunted by, memories of atrocities that he can no longer explain or forgive.
Narrated by the irreverent, despairing yet determined Detective Minami of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, Tokyo Year Zero tells a fictionalized story of the real-life hunt for “the Japanese Bluebeard”—a decorated Imperial soldier who raped and murdered at least ten women amid the bleak turmoil of post-war Japan (“one huge sea of displaced persons . . . one minute here and one minute gone”). And it is the story of Detective Minami: chasing down, and haunted by, memories of atrocities that he can no longer explain or forgive.
355 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2007
About the author
David Peace
40 books492 followersDavid Peace was born in 1967 and grew up in Ossett, near Wakefield. He left Manchester Polytechnic in 1991, and went to Istanbul to teach English. In 1994 he took up a teaching post in Tokyo and now lives there with his family.
His formative years were shadowed by the activities of the Yorkshire Ripper, and this had a profound influence on him which led to a strong interest in crime. His quartet of Red Riding books grew from this obsession with the dark side of Yorkshire. These are powerful novels of crime and police corruption, using the Yorkshire Ripper as their basis and inspiration. They are entitled Nineteen Seventy-Four, (1999), Nineteen Seventy-Seven (2000), Nineteen Eighty (2001), and Nineteen Eighty-Three (2002), and have been translated into French, Italian, German and Japanese.
In 2003 David Peace was named by Granta magazine as one of twenty "Best Young British Novelists." His novel GB84, set during the 1984 miners' strike, was published in 2005.
from contemporarywriters.com
His formative years were shadowed by the activities of the Yorkshire Ripper, and this had a profound influence on him which led to a strong interest in crime. His quartet of Red Riding books grew from this obsession with the dark side of Yorkshire. These are powerful novels of crime and police corruption, using the Yorkshire Ripper as their basis and inspiration. They are entitled Nineteen Seventy-Four, (1999), Nineteen Seventy-Seven (2000), Nineteen Eighty (2001), and Nineteen Eighty-Three (2002), and have been translated into French, Italian, German and Japanese.
In 2003 David Peace was named by Granta magazine as one of twenty "Best Young British Novelists." His novel GB84, set during the 1984 miners' strike, was published in 2005.
from contemporarywriters.com
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 327 reviews
October 1, 2016
There’s something of the nagging fine-tuned circling of a shark about Peace’s prose. I can imagine his fractured repetitive staccato prose style will alienate about 50% of readers but I loved it. It’s the kind of writing you feel compelled to speak aloud to get the precarious rhythmic grace of it.
It’s Japan, 1946, a dystopian heart of darkness. Our narrator is Inspector Minami of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, a homicide detective in a city strewn with corpses. A man tormented by his war experience, by the humiliation of Japan, by a drug habit which makes him vulnerable to a murderous crime boss and by the growing difficulty of keeping his family free from hunger and disease.
The case he is working on is based on a real one – the bodies of two girls are found in a park. An arrest is quickly made – this isn’t your run of the mill crime mystery – but the accused only admits to one of the murders. Then the case file for the other murder goes missing. Something is badly awry in the police department.
Before long more bodies turn up. Minami, a man with a guilty secret, seeks to give these young girls back their identity but it’s made apparent it’s his own identity he’s trying to recover.
This is a relentlessly bleak novel, burrowing deeper and deeper into the interiority of a deeply troubled soul, both of a defeated individual and a defeated nation. Just as well then that the prose is thrillingly inspired and freshly original.
It’s Japan, 1946, a dystopian heart of darkness. Our narrator is Inspector Minami of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, a homicide detective in a city strewn with corpses. A man tormented by his war experience, by the humiliation of Japan, by a drug habit which makes him vulnerable to a murderous crime boss and by the growing difficulty of keeping his family free from hunger and disease.
The case he is working on is based on a real one – the bodies of two girls are found in a park. An arrest is quickly made – this isn’t your run of the mill crime mystery – but the accused only admits to one of the murders. Then the case file for the other murder goes missing. Something is badly awry in the police department.
Before long more bodies turn up. Minami, a man with a guilty secret, seeks to give these young girls back their identity but it’s made apparent it’s his own identity he’s trying to recover.
This is a relentlessly bleak novel, burrowing deeper and deeper into the interiority of a deeply troubled soul, both of a defeated individual and a defeated nation. Just as well then that the prose is thrillingly inspired and freshly original.
April 20, 2017
I itch. I scratch. I write a review. Gari-Gari.
In the smoke-filled bar, in a dark corner of cyberspace, where people are too interested in noir novels to care about the real world, I tell the man across from me that the book is one part mood, one part madness, one part stylized crime novel.
What does it all mean in the end?
One year after the end of the war, at the height of the US occupation of Japan, everything is still too broken to be meaningful. And yet something called life goes on. Wrapped in a warped, twisted world, there is a fairly standard crime story based on fact. But the devil is in the details. And the details lead to mood. They lead to repetition. They lead to doubt. The narrator is a broken man, so meaning comes in shards of broken glass.
The man seems unimpressed. Yes, he says. But what does it all mean in the end?
I itch. I scratch. Gari-Gari.
Some parts are easily understood. I hand him the pieces of glass.
Other parts don't come so easily. As easily as war-memory battered sleep. As easy as the stains come off the mugs of this smoke -filled bar in the dark corner of cyberspace. As easily as...
Enough, he says. You know what I want.
I itch. I scratch. Gari-Gari. I hand him the pills.
And this will take me to sleep? he asks. This will take me to your book review.
I smile. I bow. I itch. I scratch. Book-review. Book-review.
In the smoke-filled bar, in a dark corner of cyberspace, where people are too interested in noir novels to care about the real world, I tell the man across from me that the book is one part mood, one part madness, one part stylized crime novel.
What does it all mean in the end?
One year after the end of the war, at the height of the US occupation of Japan, everything is still too broken to be meaningful. And yet something called life goes on. Wrapped in a warped, twisted world, there is a fairly standard crime story based on fact. But the devil is in the details. And the details lead to mood. They lead to repetition. They lead to doubt. The narrator is a broken man, so meaning comes in shards of broken glass.
The man seems unimpressed. Yes, he says. But what does it all mean in the end?
I itch. I scratch. Gari-Gari.
Some parts are easily understood. I hand him the pieces of glass.
Other parts don't come so easily. As easily as war-memory battered sleep. As easy as the stains come off the mugs of this smoke -filled bar in the dark corner of cyberspace. As easily as...
Enough, he says. You know what I want.
I itch. I scratch. Gari-Gari. I hand him the pills.
And this will take me to sleep? he asks. This will take me to your book review.
I smile. I bow. I itch. I scratch. Book-review. Book-review.
December 8, 2023
slightly under 4 stars
English title: Tokyo Year Zero
short review for busy readers: a phantasmagoria of a thriller told by a detective slipping into madness (or already there?). Based on a true criminal investigation that took place in Japan in 1946. More a prose poem than a novel, it makes heavy use of poetic techniques such as onomatopoeia, fragmentation, repetition and poetic/allegorical description to create the atmosphere of a depressed and defeated Japan. Intriguing and unique if you can accept the style.
in detail:
David Peace writes masculine novels.
Masculine, in that he explores topics that often are deemed far more important to men than women: success, status, power, honour, influence, position.
And certainly when inviting us to visit the all-male police force in Tokyo 1946, those things will be of even more heightened importance.
Japan has just been horribly and degradingly defeated by the US. Shame, loss, disease and death are everywhere. Half of Tokyo is nothing but a charred ruin. GIs zip through the streets in their jeeps throwing chewing gum and candy at children, offering the men cigarettes, the women nylons and alcohol, while Japanese families starve and young girls are forced into prostitution to get a few scraps of food.
It's these young, vulnerable girls who become the target of a serial killer. A sadistic psychopath who knows how to lure them with promises of food or a job with the Americans.
Based on true events, Peace weaves a horrific story about a nation on its knees and a former solider police detective - an insomniac and slightly mentally unbalanced - who simply cannot admit defeat. Not of Japan, not of the army, not of his career, not of the investigation and not of himself as a man.
Dreamlike sequences switch up with starkly realistic sequences and the use of repeating sounds and thoughts create the feeling of our hero slowly loosing his grip on reality. It works, but it asks a lot of patience and attention from the reader.
This is David Peace's typical fractured mirror style, however. I loved it in what I think is the best football/soccer novel ever Damned United, The but found it too dense and incomprehensible in his Red Riding Hood series.
"Tokyo Year Zero" sits somewhere in between.
English title: Tokyo Year Zero
short review for busy readers: a phantasmagoria of a thriller told by a detective slipping into madness (or already there?). Based on a true criminal investigation that took place in Japan in 1946. More a prose poem than a novel, it makes heavy use of poetic techniques such as onomatopoeia, fragmentation, repetition and poetic/allegorical description to create the atmosphere of a depressed and defeated Japan. Intriguing and unique if you can accept the style.
in detail:
David Peace writes masculine novels.
Masculine, in that he explores topics that often are deemed far more important to men than women: success, status, power, honour, influence, position.
And certainly when inviting us to visit the all-male police force in Tokyo 1946, those things will be of even more heightened importance.
Japan has just been horribly and degradingly defeated by the US. Shame, loss, disease and death are everywhere. Half of Tokyo is nothing but a charred ruin. GIs zip through the streets in their jeeps throwing chewing gum and candy at children, offering the men cigarettes, the women nylons and alcohol, while Japanese families starve and young girls are forced into prostitution to get a few scraps of food.
It's these young, vulnerable girls who become the target of a serial killer. A sadistic psychopath who knows how to lure them with promises of food or a job with the Americans.
Based on true events, Peace weaves a horrific story about a nation on its knees and a former solider police detective - an insomniac and slightly mentally unbalanced - who simply cannot admit defeat. Not of Japan, not of the army, not of his career, not of the investigation and not of himself as a man.
Dreamlike sequences switch up with starkly realistic sequences and the use of repeating sounds and thoughts create the feeling of our hero slowly loosing his grip on reality. It works, but it asks a lot of patience and attention from the reader.
This is David Peace's typical fractured mirror style, however. I loved it in what I think is the best football/soccer novel ever Damned United, The but found it too dense and incomprehensible in his Red Riding Hood series.
"Tokyo Year Zero" sits somewhere in between.
October 19, 2022
David Peace has a very distinctive way of writing. Short staccato sentences, often repeated throughout the text, that create a menacing music. At times I found this tremendously effective, at others a little irritating. It's the story of a Japanese police detective's attempt to solve the case of two murdered young girls. Soon more bodies turn up. It's 1946 and we soon learn the detective has a dark war secret he's in fear of being discovered. It's based on a true story. On the whole an edifying read.
March 30, 2010
March 27; Page 1, naively optimistic
I dreamt that Captain Kangaroo was working as a bartender last night. He was the same as I remember him, except he didn't have that velour-looking sports coat on. He was wearing a black cowboy shirt with the sleeves artfully ripped off and his hair was all spiky. I woke up before I had a chance to order a drink from him. Maybe it's time I started that David Peace book that's come in down at the library.
March 28; Page 35, how'd I get this bruise?
Did I read a review of this book that compares Peace to Kawabata? I don't see it yet.
I turn the page, Whoosh! I turn the page, Whoosh! I turn the page, Whoosh!
March 29; Page 77, my wife is wearing white
And I love it when she wears white. Her skin is made more brown, her hair is made more black. She asks me what I'm reading. I tell her and she leaves me to it.
There are better things I could be doing with my time, there are better things I could be doing with my time, there are better things I could be doing with my time ---
March 30; Page 139, def con 1, code red, man the barricades
The brake pads on my work vehicle are worn. I should tell the mechanic, but I am in a bad humor because this book sucks epic crapass.
Don't read this book, don't read this book, don't read this book ---
I dreamt that Captain Kangaroo was working as a bartender last night. He was the same as I remember him, except he didn't have that velour-looking sports coat on. He was wearing a black cowboy shirt with the sleeves artfully ripped off and his hair was all spiky. I woke up before I had a chance to order a drink from him. Maybe it's time I started that David Peace book that's come in down at the library.
March 28; Page 35, how'd I get this bruise?
Did I read a review of this book that compares Peace to Kawabata? I don't see it yet.
I turn the page, Whoosh! I turn the page, Whoosh! I turn the page, Whoosh!
March 29; Page 77, my wife is wearing white
And I love it when she wears white. Her skin is made more brown, her hair is made more black. She asks me what I'm reading. I tell her and she leaves me to it.
There are better things I could be doing with my time, there are better things I could be doing with my time, there are better things I could be doing with my time ---
March 30; Page 139, def con 1, code red, man the barricades
The brake pads on my work vehicle are worn. I should tell the mechanic, but I am in a bad humor because this book sucks epic crapass.
Don't read this book, don't read this book, don't read this book ---
June 2, 2019
This is another one of those books that a middle aged white man had no business writing, and yet he pulled it off. Who knew? Maybe not all old white men are terrible? I will have to do more research on that.
The reason I’m saying this is because it’s a novel taking place in a postwar Tokyo, among the Japanese. I’m not subscribing to the absolute tyranny of #ownvoices (mostly because I, myself, wouldn’t want to be relegated to writing about Polish immigrants ad nauseam), but if you’re going to write about an experience that’s far removed from your own, you gotta do it right. And I think Peace did it right (for how to do it wrong check the Memoirs of a Geisha).
Tokyo Year Zero under pretence of a thriller about a serial killer presents a picture of a humiliated, disgraced and defeated country. And if you are here, looking for some ‘Japanese noir’, you will probably end up disappointed, writing one of those classic one-star Amazon reviews which go like this: “this book was boring, the author constantly repeated the same sentences, I don’t know why.” The onomatopoeic repetitions will either drive you mad or you will be bewitched by their poetic rhythm.
Here is a bunch of phrases I wrote down while reading this book: dark, violent, claustrophobic, obsessive, oppressive, painful rebirth, country struggling to find its moral compass again.
This book is great but it will not make you feel great.
*I realise that David Peace is not THAT old. Please don't send me messages about it.
The reason I’m saying this is because it’s a novel taking place in a postwar Tokyo, among the Japanese. I’m not subscribing to the absolute tyranny of #ownvoices (mostly because I, myself, wouldn’t want to be relegated to writing about Polish immigrants ad nauseam), but if you’re going to write about an experience that’s far removed from your own, you gotta do it right. And I think Peace did it right (for how to do it wrong check the Memoirs of a Geisha).
Tokyo Year Zero under pretence of a thriller about a serial killer presents a picture of a humiliated, disgraced and defeated country. And if you are here, looking for some ‘Japanese noir’, you will probably end up disappointed, writing one of those classic one-star Amazon reviews which go like this: “this book was boring, the author constantly repeated the same sentences, I don’t know why.” The onomatopoeic repetitions will either drive you mad or you will be bewitched by their poetic rhythm.
Here is a bunch of phrases I wrote down while reading this book: dark, violent, claustrophobic, obsessive, oppressive, painful rebirth, country struggling to find its moral compass again.
This book is great but it will not make you feel great.
*I realise that David Peace is not THAT old. Please don't send me messages about it.
December 20, 2014
this book is depressing, it´s disturbing, it shines a certain light on Japan, that one tends to ignore, if one is a Japan-Fan, as I am. Why should one read this book? Because it´s a literary and psychological diamond.
From the beginning the reader is stuck in the head of the protagonist and that is not a nice place to be. The policeman has a haunting past and swerves constantly on the verge to madness. He is nervous, ill, and he is unbearably afraid. The story is about a serial killer in post-war Tokyo. Post-war Tokyo is a ruin and it´s also the showplace of the ruins of humanity. The reader is confronted with hunger, filth and illness, he has to watch the brutality and indifference of man, and one asks oneself what the real crime is - the serial murder or the everyday-reality in Tokyo 1945.
As the world is seen from the perspective of the protagonist, the reader can never be sure, if the observations meet reality or are just hallucinations, which is a disturbing experience. It´s no book which one can enjoy being curled on the sofa with a bar of chocolate, but I would nevertheless recommend it highly. And I´m waiting for the sequel, because it´s a trilogy!
From the beginning the reader is stuck in the head of the protagonist and that is not a nice place to be. The policeman has a haunting past and swerves constantly on the verge to madness. He is nervous, ill, and he is unbearably afraid. The story is about a serial killer in post-war Tokyo. Post-war Tokyo is a ruin and it´s also the showplace of the ruins of humanity. The reader is confronted with hunger, filth and illness, he has to watch the brutality and indifference of man, and one asks oneself what the real crime is - the serial murder or the everyday-reality in Tokyo 1945.
As the world is seen from the perspective of the protagonist, the reader can never be sure, if the observations meet reality or are just hallucinations, which is a disturbing experience. It´s no book which one can enjoy being curled on the sofa with a bar of chocolate, but I would nevertheless recommend it highly. And I´m waiting for the sequel, because it´s a trilogy!
February 26, 2016
1945 Tóquio Japão
“Tóquio Ano Zero” começa no “décimo quinto dia do oitavo mês do vigésimo ano do Shõwa”, isto é, no dia 15 de Agosto de 1945, a data em que o Imperador Hirohito proferiu o discurso de rendição do Japão Imperial perante os governos dos Estados Unidos da América, Grã-Bretanha, China e União Soviética, aceitando as cláusulas da Declaração de Potsdam, que culmina no fim da Segunda Guerra Mundial no Oriente, uma forma de evitar o ”colapso final e a obliteração na nação” japonesa; o dia em que o detective Minami é chamado a investigar o cadáver de uma mulher, Miyazaki Mitsuko, encontrada numa cave imunda no edifício do Dormitório da Secção Feminina do Departamento de Uniformes da Marinha de Dai-Chi, em Tóquio, um possível cenário de crime, num abrigo inundado pelo esgoto, com ratazanas e água contaminada.
Um ano depois, a 15 de Agosto de 1946, são encontrados no Parque Shiba, em Tóquio, mais dois cadáveres, duas jovens mulheres, com cerca de vinte anos de idade, violadas e assassinadas…
Minami é um detective pouco convencional, um narrador obsessivo, perturbado e paranóico, que tem fome, está infestado de piolhos, coça-se desalmadamente, Gari-gari (“o som de alguém a coçar-se” – Glossário), dependente do consumo de Calmotin, que neglicência a sua mulher e os seus dois filhos, que está obcecado pela sua amante, Yuki, e tem uma relação difícil com os seus subordinados e os seus superiores, sendo perseguido pelas memórias das atrocidades da guerra sino-japonesa, e que investiga os vários crimes, o assassinato de jovens mulheres, algumas pertencentes a um ”Futen (“grupo ou gangue de prostitutas” – Glossário).
O escritor inglês David Peace (n. 1967), que viveu entre 1994 e 2009 em Tóquio, Japão, constrói a narrativa de ”Tóquio Ano Zero” com base num caso verídico, o de um serial killer e violador, Kodaira Yoshio, que ficou conhecido como o Barba-Azul Japonês; um romance policial, com um suspense intenso e uma forte componente histórica, agrupando vários géneros literários, com destaque para o “noir”, com evidente influência de Dashiell Hammett e de Raymond Chandler, uma leitura desconfortável, aterrorizante, numa prosa repetitiva, claustrofóbica, num cenário apocalíptico, uma cidade de Tóquio e arredores, completamente destruída, numa atmosfera tóxica, com um calor e uma humidade insuportável; ocupada pelos “Vitoriosos” e pelas lutas de gangues no domínio do comércio, pela existência de polícias corruptos e pela cultura japonesa pós Segunda Guerra Mundial, com destaque para a rigidez nas relações hierárquicas.
A escrita de David Peace é absolutamente inovadora e inesquecível, num retrato cruel e ambíguo das várias personagens, com descrições detalhadas e visuais das vítimas, numa narrativa que avança no presente, sempre com reminiscências do passado conturbado do detective Minami, com recurso a flashbacks, surgindo os seus pensamentos, angústias e anseios, em itálico no texto; num relato fragmentado, muitas vezes, apenas com informação trivial, mas utilizando até à exaustão as frases “simples” que repete e repete; e uma figura de linguagem a “Onomatopeia” (pouco - ou quase nunca (?) - utilizada em romances policiais), que estabelece e acentua ainda mais o clima claustrofóbico e de profunda ansiedade mental de ”Tóquio Ano Zero”.
”Tóquio Ano Zero” é um romance inesquecível e perturbador, aconselhável e indispensável para leitores que apreciam uma narrativa incoerente e monólogos dilacerantes.
Ilustração Erik T. Johnson
Nota Final: David Peace inclui no final do livro um indispensável Glossário, com explicação minuciosa da terminologia japonesa utilizada e refere um vasto conjunto de livros que consultou de ficção e não-ficção, assim como, filmes e canções.
December 14, 2015
I started to read this because I thought it was a crime story set in Japan and that was precisely what I wanted to read at that moment.
Now then.
Technically it is, too, just as Döblin's "Berlin, Alexanderplatz" describes the efforts of an ex-con to come to terms with his world or Joyce's "Ulysses" tells about a day of an Irish drunk. What you get is a excruciating ride in the head of a decent man, living in difficult times and a difficult place and trying to do the right thing...as long as possible. The constantly hammering rhythm, the repeating phrases, the almost physically felt heat and itching and sleeplessness, and the eerie, shadowlike world around, with its too plain horrors and precious little to look forward to...a major feat. But not difficult to put down. In fact, you want to put it down after 5 minutes or so. And then take it up again. And put it down again. It's that kind of book.
Now then.
Technically it is, too, just as Döblin's "Berlin, Alexanderplatz" describes the efforts of an ex-con to come to terms with his world or Joyce's "Ulysses" tells about a day of an Irish drunk. What you get is a excruciating ride in the head of a decent man, living in difficult times and a difficult place and trying to do the right thing...as long as possible. The constantly hammering rhythm, the repeating phrases, the almost physically felt heat and itching and sleeplessness, and the eerie, shadowlike world around, with its too plain horrors and precious little to look forward to...a major feat. But not difficult to put down. In fact, you want to put it down after 5 minutes or so. And then take it up again. And put it down again. It's that kind of book.
February 18, 2010
Tokyo Year Zero is unrelentingly miserable. A revolving recurrence of the same events, punctuated by endlessly repeated fragments of the narrator’s stream of consciousness, hammering, scratching, and ticking, it is also, at least in parts, nigh on incomprehensible.
Tokyo, August 1946: as Japan suffers its defeat by American forces, the bodies of two women are found in Shiba Park. Crumbling Detective Minami is assigned to the case and, faced with the horrors he encounters during the investigation, suffers a nervous breakdown, culminating in self-castration (I think – the description, thankfully, wasn’t terribly clear) and an overdose of barbiturates.
The novel could work as an intense portrayal of disintegration if it were much shorter, but Peace seems to mistakenly think that repetition creates greater impact. The truly moving words, because of their simplicity, are those of the real-life man on whom the culprit was based and who was executed for the murders.
Tokyo, August 1946: as Japan suffers its defeat by American forces, the bodies of two women are found in Shiba Park. Crumbling Detective Minami is assigned to the case and, faced with the horrors he encounters during the investigation, suffers a nervous breakdown, culminating in self-castration (I think – the description, thankfully, wasn’t terribly clear) and an overdose of barbiturates.
The novel could work as an intense portrayal of disintegration if it were much shorter, but Peace seems to mistakenly think that repetition creates greater impact. The truly moving words, because of their simplicity, are those of the real-life man on whom the culprit was based and who was executed for the murders.
September 21, 2022
Tercera incursión que realizo en la obra de David Peace y sin duda ha sido la que más cuesta arriba se me ha hecho. Cualquiera que haya leído alguna de sus novelas conoce de sobras la dosis de prosa experimental de Peace, sus repeticiones, onomatopeyas, sus voces en off que se infiltran en la acción y que sirven como estribillos a lo largo de la narración, los flash-backs que aparecen repentinamente, y un largo etcétera. Ahora bien, si en Ciudad ocupada o Paciente X todo está equilibrado, en Tokio año cero encuentro que no, que se le va la mano y que en el tramo central sencillamente no pasa nada y el interés narrativo decae notablemente. Si la novela son unas 400 páginas, tienes la sensación que su duración auténtica es de la mitad y que en ese tramo intermedio sencillamente consiste en dar en vueltas en círculos y adentrarse por meandros que no llevan a ninguna parte.
El libro cuenta un caso verídico, el de un depredador sexual llamado Yoshio Kodaira, que asesinó a varias jóvenes, y que era miembro del ejército. Peace ve claro que esos crímenes son síntoma de una forma de pensar de una época excesiva y calamitosa que condujo al mayor desastre de la historia de Japón. Peace no escatima en detalles a la hora de describir esa miseria material y moral, los hospitales que son vertederos de personas, la pobreza extrema, la policía corrupta, los yakuza y una pérdida del rumbo que convierten a Japón en el escenario dantesco dónde se mueve el detective Minami, a caso el avatar de esa derrota, un hombre perturbado, sucio, con un estado de salud deplorable y que es uno de los encargados de investigar el hallazgo de los cadáveres de las chicas y encarna a un país agotado y enloquecido.
Quiero pensar que esa parte central busca recrear ese estado de desorientación, que el lector sienta el agobio de estar sumergido en semejante mundo, pero la verdad es que a mí me pareció excesivo. Peace desde luego no es un escritor de novela negra, en verdad sus armas se miden con los grandes novelistas posmodernos, pero igualmente, con una narrativa más equilibrada, la novela podría ganar algunos enteros. Tengo además la sensación que ese retrato del Japón de la posguerra, de ese mundo decadente y torturado, está mucho más logrado y resulta más potente en Ciudad ocupada, que recomiendo encarecidamente.
En todo caso, una experiencia narrativa poco convencional, que cuenta con imágenes muy lóbregas y crudas, y que recrea momentos que no son los convencionales, todo envuelto por ese impulso experimental e indagador, en busca de los detalles más minúsculos de la vida mental de sus personajes. Las novelas de Peace son geniales pero te harán sentir fatal.
March 5, 2015
This book is unusual for its setting (Occupied Japan), its point of view (that of the occupied) and its experimental writing style. The people are hungry. Loss is all around. The “Victors” are purging the former militarists and war crimes trials are a topic of discussion.
There are sensational murders of young women and Inspector Minami, who has a past, a neglected family, pill dependency and a constant itch (bugs? skin disease? desire?) takes an unusual interest in the cases. The real mystery; however, is Detective Minami, who he is and what his secrets are.
This could have been a great book, but it will leave many readers wanting. The post-modern poetic style effectively invokes the mood of post war Japan, but does not help the reader understand it. While the main narrative and a supplemental text gives clues to Minami’s past, how the other characters fit into the picture is a big blur until the end. You never do get a grasp on why he is so interested in this particular case.
Perhaps everyone who will read a fictional work on the Occupation will know why the Emperor’s speech was misinterpreted. Some readers might know about the Post Office visits but they may wonder why, after so long a wait, claims suddenly are settled so casually. Those who know a lot about the Occupation will still wonder about this police department and how it became staffed as it was.
I’m giving this novel 4 stars for the thought that went into it. Many readers (myself included) will find pieces of the experimental writing (such as “chiku-taku”, “ton-ton” and especially “gari-gari”) irritating.
There are sensational murders of young women and Inspector Minami, who has a past, a neglected family, pill dependency and a constant itch (bugs? skin disease? desire?) takes an unusual interest in the cases. The real mystery; however, is Detective Minami, who he is and what his secrets are.
This could have been a great book, but it will leave many readers wanting. The post-modern poetic style effectively invokes the mood of post war Japan, but does not help the reader understand it. While the main narrative and a supplemental text gives clues to Minami’s past, how the other characters fit into the picture is a big blur until the end. You never do get a grasp on why he is so interested in this particular case.
Perhaps everyone who will read a fictional work on the Occupation will know why the Emperor’s speech was misinterpreted. Some readers might know about the Post Office visits but they may wonder why, after so long a wait, claims suddenly are settled so casually. Those who know a lot about the Occupation will still wonder about this police department and how it became staffed as it was.
I’m giving this novel 4 stars for the thought that went into it. Many readers (myself included) will find pieces of the experimental writing (such as “chiku-taku”, “ton-ton” and especially “gari-gari”) irritating.
April 8, 2016
Dig this illustration by Erik T. Johnson for the New York Times' review of David Peace's excellent novel Tokyo Year Zero. (2007)
Not so much a mystery/neo-noir as it is a hellish tone poem. Sounds play a pivotal role and are relayed through phonetic onomatopoeia: the gari-gari of scratching at lice, the chiku-taku of a ticking clock, the ton-ton of ceaseless hammering as Japan is rebuilt from the ashes up--all of these noises operating at a mesmerizing degree to create the soundtrack looping through the disturbed mind of the narrator (the grim yet determined Detective Minami) as he descends into madness and despair. The plot is structured around the real-life manhunt for the serial killer known as "the Japanese Bluebeard," but the procedural aspect functions as a foundation for Peace's phantasmagoria about the loss of identity in post-A-bombed Japan, a theme stretched to Gothic heights of trauma. Stylish despair does wonders for the soul.
Would love to be in the position to direct an adaption of this as a Japanese-language (subtitles, most definitely) film. Make it look like a neon-soaked nightmare with a nerve-racking and hypnotic score by Geinoh Yamashirogumi: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpDvt...
December 10, 2014
Es muy raro, rarísimo que deje un libro cuando ya leí la mitad.
No terminé "Tokio año cero".
La última vez que deje un libro por la mitad fue hace como cuatro años, con el "Ulises" de Joyce. Pero lo dejé por motivos totalmente distintos, e incluso cada tanto me dan ganas de retomarlo (por las dudas dejé puesto el señalador) pero confieso que me supera su hermetismo.
Con "Tokio año cero" lo que me pasó es algo todavía peor.
Está escrito en forma (más o menos) experimental, intercalando diálogos y hechos con pensamientos del relator, escritos en letra cursiva por sí el lector es idiota y no se da cuenta. Puedo lidiar con eso.
Usa y abusa del recurso de la aliteración, pero no lo hace con una palabra sino con oraciones enteras, y a veces hasta con fucking párrafos enteros. Ejemplo (lo copio textual):
"Me pican los piojos de la cabeza. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Me levanto de la mesilla. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Voy al fregadero de la cocina. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Me peino. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Los piojos caen a puñados. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Los aplastó contra el fregadero. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Los piojos del cuerpo cuestan más de quitar. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Son blancos y cuestan más de encontrar. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Abro el grifo. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Sale agua. Deja de salir. Vuelve a salir.
Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari." (Pag. 72) (Los "gari-gari" van en cursiva, pero me da pachorra usar HTML con la tablet)
Pero puedo lidiar con eso también.
Hay quichicientos personajes, todos japoneses, chinos y/o coreanos, y son tantos que cuesta muchísimo saber de quién están hablando. Pero también puedo lidiar con eso.
Se hace referencia a lugares, fechas, costumbres y objetos propios de la cultura japonesa, pero no se aclara de qué o quién están hablando. (A una de las víctimas la asesinaron con un haramaki...). Pero también puedo lidiar con eso.
Con lo que no puedo lidiar es con una historia policial que no puede importarme menos, con unos personajes que me da lo mismo si resuelven el caso o si se hacen monjes de clausura. Hay tres o cuatro casos en los que estos policías japoneses post-rendición del '45 están trabajando. Y no puede interesarme menos quién es el asesino. Ni hablar del piojoso detective que narra la historia, que está casado, tiene una amante, se la pasa vomitando y rascándome y maldiciendo para sus adentros. Si en la página 320 se lo come Godzilla, me da absolutamente lo mismo.
Hay cada tanto algún atisbo de un buen libro. La forma de narrar el Japón devastado después de la guerra con ese intento de poesía con el que Peace escribe, esa parte está lograda. Pero son líneas, párrafos con suerte. Después tenés páginas enteras de "me pica y me rasco" y unos casos policiales que, de verdad, no me interesan.
Si algún alma kamikaze llega a terminarlo y quiere contarme el final, no me interesa. Así de mucho.
No terminé "Tokio año cero".
La última vez que deje un libro por la mitad fue hace como cuatro años, con el "Ulises" de Joyce. Pero lo dejé por motivos totalmente distintos, e incluso cada tanto me dan ganas de retomarlo (por las dudas dejé puesto el señalador) pero confieso que me supera su hermetismo.
Con "Tokio año cero" lo que me pasó es algo todavía peor.
Está escrito en forma (más o menos) experimental, intercalando diálogos y hechos con pensamientos del relator, escritos en letra cursiva por sí el lector es idiota y no se da cuenta. Puedo lidiar con eso.
Usa y abusa del recurso de la aliteración, pero no lo hace con una palabra sino con oraciones enteras, y a veces hasta con fucking párrafos enteros. Ejemplo (lo copio textual):
"Me pican los piojos de la cabeza. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Me levanto de la mesilla. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Voy al fregadero de la cocina. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Me peino. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Los piojos caen a puñados. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Los aplastó contra el fregadero. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Los piojos del cuerpo cuestan más de quitar. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Son blancos y cuestan más de encontrar. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Abro el grifo. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Sale agua. Deja de salir. Vuelve a salir.
Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari. Me pica. Me rasco. Gari-gari." (Pag. 72) (Los "gari-gari" van en cursiva, pero me da pachorra usar HTML con la tablet)
Pero puedo lidiar con eso también.
Hay quichicientos personajes, todos japoneses, chinos y/o coreanos, y son tantos que cuesta muchísimo saber de quién están hablando. Pero también puedo lidiar con eso.
Se hace referencia a lugares, fechas, costumbres y objetos propios de la cultura japonesa, pero no se aclara de qué o quién están hablando. (A una de las víctimas la asesinaron con un haramaki...). Pero también puedo lidiar con eso.
Con lo que no puedo lidiar es con una historia policial que no puede importarme menos, con unos personajes que me da lo mismo si resuelven el caso o si se hacen monjes de clausura. Hay tres o cuatro casos en los que estos policías japoneses post-rendición del '45 están trabajando. Y no puede interesarme menos quién es el asesino. Ni hablar del piojoso detective que narra la historia, que está casado, tiene una amante, se la pasa vomitando y rascándome y maldiciendo para sus adentros. Si en la página 320 se lo come Godzilla, me da absolutamente lo mismo.
Hay cada tanto algún atisbo de un buen libro. La forma de narrar el Japón devastado después de la guerra con ese intento de poesía con el que Peace escribe, esa parte está lograda. Pero son líneas, párrafos con suerte. Después tenés páginas enteras de "me pica y me rasco" y unos casos policiales que, de verdad, no me interesan.
Si algún alma kamikaze llega a terminarlo y quiere contarme el final, no me interesa. Así de mucho.
December 15, 2007
This is a fast, absorbing read that is a great way to start off the holiday season. I probably should have waited till I was done grading, because I kept coming back to read this book.
Stylistically, it is very repetitious, but in a good way. One of the other reviewers (who didn't like it) gives an example of this and there are other examples online, if you feel the need to preview it before visiting your bookstore or library. The reoccurring objects and phrases that increasingly take on a greater meaning reminded me a bit of Yasunari Kawabata's Snow Country (I've only read the translation, but maybe that's what Peace read, too). The way the narrative just seems to stop and start as it chooses, regardless of chapter breaks recalled Snow Country as well. If the style bugs you, it might help to know that it does have a purpose besides just creating a sense of what it is like to be in narrator's head (which by itself would be enough for me). If you read to the end, it comes together beautifully.
The plot does center around a series of rapes and murders: the descriptions are not unduly graphic (at least in my view), but they certainly don't try to gloss over the ugliness of the crimes.
I just finished reading it and immediately wanted to discuss the ending. My husband, though, is in the middle of a book he's been waiting anxiously to read, so I couldn't make him stop, read this book and converse immediately with me. This lead to me searching the internet for discussion groups, which I could not find. But I did find a rather strange Washington Post review. Before reading this book, I had browsed through the positive reviews in the New York Times and Los Angeles Times (as well as, I thought, the much more reliable, The Plot Thickens (the monthly mailer from one of my favorite book stores, Mysterious Galaxy, but I can't seeem to find the review anymore), all of which lead me to read Peace's book. According to Washington Post reviewer Carolyn See, I am a pervert and a failure as a woman ("Women will (or should!) be just plain grossed out," quips See). I disagree with her review: I don't think the novel revels in the details of the crimes; I just don't think you can paint a pretty or a happy picture in a novel based on a factual murders and rapes set in the rather bleak (at least from the history books I've read) of 1946 Tokyo.
Links to reviews mentioned follow:
Washington Post: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/...
Los Angles Times:
http://www.latimes.com/features/books...
New York Times (the site also has an excerpt from the book):
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/12/09/boo...
Mysterious Galaxy: I can't remember if they recommended it or not, but it's one of my favorite book stores, so check it out:
http://mysteriousgalaxy.booksense.com...
Stylistically, it is very repetitious, but in a good way. One of the other reviewers (who didn't like it) gives an example of this and there are other examples online, if you feel the need to preview it before visiting your bookstore or library. The reoccurring objects and phrases that increasingly take on a greater meaning reminded me a bit of Yasunari Kawabata's Snow Country (I've only read the translation, but maybe that's what Peace read, too). The way the narrative just seems to stop and start as it chooses, regardless of chapter breaks recalled Snow Country as well. If the style bugs you, it might help to know that it does have a purpose besides just creating a sense of what it is like to be in narrator's head (which by itself would be enough for me). If you read to the end, it comes together beautifully.
The plot does center around a series of rapes and murders: the descriptions are not unduly graphic (at least in my view), but they certainly don't try to gloss over the ugliness of the crimes.
I just finished reading it and immediately wanted to discuss the ending. My husband, though, is in the middle of a book he's been waiting anxiously to read, so I couldn't make him stop, read this book and converse immediately with me. This lead to me searching the internet for discussion groups, which I could not find. But I did find a rather strange Washington Post review. Before reading this book, I had browsed through the positive reviews in the New York Times and Los Angeles Times (as well as, I thought, the much more reliable, The Plot Thickens (the monthly mailer from one of my favorite book stores, Mysterious Galaxy, but I can't seeem to find the review anymore), all of which lead me to read Peace's book. According to Washington Post reviewer Carolyn See, I am a pervert and a failure as a woman ("Women will (or should!) be just plain grossed out," quips See). I disagree with her review: I don't think the novel revels in the details of the crimes; I just don't think you can paint a pretty or a happy picture in a novel based on a factual murders and rapes set in the rather bleak (at least from the history books I've read) of 1946 Tokyo.
Links to reviews mentioned follow:
Washington Post: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/...
Los Angles Times:
http://www.latimes.com/features/books...
New York Times (the site also has an excerpt from the book):
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/12/09/boo...
Mysterious Galaxy: I can't remember if they recommended it or not, but it's one of my favorite book stores, so check it out:
http://mysteriousgalaxy.booksense.com...
October 24, 2011
This is the worst book I have ever read. It was so bad I’m angry about it. James Ellroy gives a great review of this book and I want to personally ask him how he could find this book acceptable in any way?
I don’t know if this style of writing has an official name but throughout the entire story the author continually repeats himself exactly line after line, paragraph after paragraph. Example: I walk in the hot sun, the sun is like fire, I wipe my neck, the city is black. I walk in the hot sun, the sun is like fire, I wipe my neck, the city is black. I walk in the hot sun, the sun is like fire, I wipe my neck, the city is black. I entered the station house and saw everyone sitting at their borrowed desk, in the rooms with no light, and the fans that don’t move. I walk in the hot sun, the sun is like fire, I wipe my neck, the city is black.
If this wasn’t done the book would be half the size of what it is, and I would have preferred an interesting short story over wasting my time with this nonsense. I don’t understand it at all but it was enough to do two things 1. I will never read another book by this author. 2. For the first time in my life I literally threw a book away. I was so mad I didn’t want to contribute to circulating this garbage.
I don’t know if this style of writing has an official name but throughout the entire story the author continually repeats himself exactly line after line, paragraph after paragraph. Example: I walk in the hot sun, the sun is like fire, I wipe my neck, the city is black. I walk in the hot sun, the sun is like fire, I wipe my neck, the city is black. I walk in the hot sun, the sun is like fire, I wipe my neck, the city is black. I entered the station house and saw everyone sitting at their borrowed desk, in the rooms with no light, and the fans that don’t move. I walk in the hot sun, the sun is like fire, I wipe my neck, the city is black.
If this wasn’t done the book would be half the size of what it is, and I would have preferred an interesting short story over wasting my time with this nonsense. I don’t understand it at all but it was enough to do two things 1. I will never read another book by this author. 2. For the first time in my life I literally threw a book away. I was so mad I didn’t want to contribute to circulating this garbage.
March 30, 2010
I don't think I've ever encountered this before: a high-modernist crime novel. Postmodernist, yes (Paul Auster); sort-of-modernist-but-still-pulp-fiction, yes (Jim Thompson, especially the final pages of One Hell of a Woman). But this search for a serial killer in Occupied Japan (Tokyo 1946, the "Year Zero" of the title) is as concerned with its use of language as with its mystery. And honestly, that was the problem; the suck-you-in-and-pull-you-along nature of tradition crime fiction doesn't work well with -- is actually at odds with, I'd say -- the distanciation effect of a modernist prose style. Still, if Peace were playing with Big Ideas or in other ways engaged in a project that justified his stylistic choice, the slog (and I found it one) might have been worth the effort. But in the end (and in spite of an extensive bibliography appended to the novel), there's little to distiguish this from other historical crime fictions (for example, Phillip Kerr's Berlin books) except that there's less good old-fashioned pleasure here. It's not a bad book -- it's actually quite an achievement, I suppose -- but it's not something I'd recommend to most people.
May 16, 2023
Nem sei bem o que dizer sobre este livro. Jamais me irei esquecer dele é verdade, mas dizer que gostei de um livro em que não existe um único momento de felicidade e em que tudo é horrível, sofrido e negro parece-me estranho. Ainda me choca mais por ser baseado em factos reais: o cenário apocalíptico de Tóquio completamente em ruínas após a 2ª guerra é real assim como o serial killer que é investigado. Percebo as críticas de que o estilo repetitivo do David Peace é irritante, principalmente as onomatopeias (o gari-gari também me enervou e muito por vezes)…as citações de pensamentos do detetive Minami, que misturam alucinações e realidade, cortam um pouco o fio da narrativa policial mas dão uma imagem do seu (perturbadíssimo!) estado de espírito …Eu acho que o estilo de escrita, embora difícil, transmite bem a sensação de devastação que o autor pretendia. Eu pelo menos até pesadelos tive com este livro! Em resumo, não é fácil, não é óbvio, acho que muitos não o irão sequer terminar, mas acho que merece muito ser lido e não será certamente esquecido. Mas agora preciso de um livro leve para desanuviar.
July 20, 2020
A powerful book but not an easy read and definitely not for everyone.
English: https://elifthereader.com/books/tokyo...
Türkçe: http://kitaplikkedisi.com/kitaplar/da...
English: https://elifthereader.com/books/tokyo...
Türkçe: http://kitaplikkedisi.com/kitaplar/da...
May 12, 2019
Going into it, I love Peace's style and crime fiction. But honestly believed I'd have no interest in the story being based in Japan. I was wrong. Phenomenal historical crime fiction. Based on a good load of reality. Really good. I'm definitely reading the next one in the series.
June 13, 2013
1946 ovvero “Nessuno è quello che dice di essere”
Benché possa sembrare incredibile, David Peace è riuscito nell’intento di spingere ancor più all’estremo la sua scrittura e il suo stile. Quello che già nei quattro libri del Red Riding Quartet si caratterizzava come una sorta di espressionismo ossessivo e angoscioso che poneva la coerenza del racconto in subordine all’effetto di spiazzamento e caos della narrazione e del mondo in essa descritto, ora è divenuto un magma inaccessibile e oscuro.
Trasferitosi a Tokyo una ventina d’anni fa, Peace ha scelto di ambientarvi il suo nuovo incubo delocalizzandolo temporalmente ad un anno fatidico per il Giappone, appena sconfitto e annichilito fisicamente e moralmente dall’esito catastrofico della Guerra Mondiale.
L’io narrante (e letteralmente delirante) è un reduce della campagna di Manciuria, i cui massacri tornano più volte alla memoria (e, per inciso, in tanta parte della letteratura e del cinema giapponese) come un orrore impossibile da rimuovere; ora egli agisce in un Giappone altrettanto devastato, nel ruolo di ispettore di polizia, una polizia lacera, scalcinata, priva di mezzi, falcidiata dalle epurazioni, divisa al suo interno, che si trova a fronteggiare un (dis)ordine pubblico ormai fuori controllo.
Nonostante il mestiere del protagonista ed il frenetico sovrapporsi di inchieste su omicidi seriali, di testimonianze e di interrogatori, “Tokyo anno zero” non è inquadrabile come romanzo poliziesco (categoria già stretta per “1974” e seguenti…) perché il filo dell’indagine è progressivamente stravolto e scardinato da una forma che si fa via via sempre più astratta alternando azioni reali o presunte tali ad incubi immaginati, pensieri paranoici a minacce concrete, vittime dall’identità sfuggente a probabili carnefici.
L’effetto di vertigine e di inafferrabilità della logica degli eventi è accentuato, per l’estenuato lettore occidentale, dall’uso dei nomi giapponesi reiterati come un mantra ossessivo: i colleghi dell’ispettore Minami e le giovani vittime certe o presunte sono elencati continuamente come uno scioglilingua che confonde e ipnotizza, così come i nomi dei quartieri e addirittura delle linee tramviarie e ferroviarie.
Quartieri e linee ferro-tramviarie che punteggiano quella che in definitiva è la protagonista assoluta del libro: Tokyo, città azzerata e rasa al suolo, metropoli popolata da un’umanità umiliata e terrorizzata, infestata e malata terminale, rassegnata e privata di tutto, perfino dell’identità: “Nessuno è quel che dice di essere…”
Benché possa sembrare incredibile, David Peace è riuscito nell’intento di spingere ancor più all’estremo la sua scrittura e il suo stile. Quello che già nei quattro libri del Red Riding Quartet si caratterizzava come una sorta di espressionismo ossessivo e angoscioso che poneva la coerenza del racconto in subordine all’effetto di spiazzamento e caos della narrazione e del mondo in essa descritto, ora è divenuto un magma inaccessibile e oscuro.
Trasferitosi a Tokyo una ventina d’anni fa, Peace ha scelto di ambientarvi il suo nuovo incubo delocalizzandolo temporalmente ad un anno fatidico per il Giappone, appena sconfitto e annichilito fisicamente e moralmente dall’esito catastrofico della Guerra Mondiale.
L’io narrante (e letteralmente delirante) è un reduce della campagna di Manciuria, i cui massacri tornano più volte alla memoria (e, per inciso, in tanta parte della letteratura e del cinema giapponese) come un orrore impossibile da rimuovere; ora egli agisce in un Giappone altrettanto devastato, nel ruolo di ispettore di polizia, una polizia lacera, scalcinata, priva di mezzi, falcidiata dalle epurazioni, divisa al suo interno, che si trova a fronteggiare un (dis)ordine pubblico ormai fuori controllo.
Nonostante il mestiere del protagonista ed il frenetico sovrapporsi di inchieste su omicidi seriali, di testimonianze e di interrogatori, “Tokyo anno zero” non è inquadrabile come romanzo poliziesco (categoria già stretta per “1974” e seguenti…) perché il filo dell’indagine è progressivamente stravolto e scardinato da una forma che si fa via via sempre più astratta alternando azioni reali o presunte tali ad incubi immaginati, pensieri paranoici a minacce concrete, vittime dall’identità sfuggente a probabili carnefici.
L’effetto di vertigine e di inafferrabilità della logica degli eventi è accentuato, per l’estenuato lettore occidentale, dall’uso dei nomi giapponesi reiterati come un mantra ossessivo: i colleghi dell’ispettore Minami e le giovani vittime certe o presunte sono elencati continuamente come uno scioglilingua che confonde e ipnotizza, così come i nomi dei quartieri e addirittura delle linee tramviarie e ferroviarie.
Quartieri e linee ferro-tramviarie che punteggiano quella che in definitiva è la protagonista assoluta del libro: Tokyo, città azzerata e rasa al suolo, metropoli popolata da un’umanità umiliata e terrorizzata, infestata e malata terminale, rassegnata e privata di tutto, perfino dell’identità: “Nessuno è quel che dice di essere…”
December 5, 2013
A very long time ago, someone close to people I cared about got murdered. For weeks, every lurid headline made me shudder, hoping they hadn't seen it. I swore off crime fiction for years afterwards, no longer having any tolerance for the death of someone's loved one being reduced to a plot device. And for exactly that reason, there's a lot of crime fiction I still really can't bear.
What I admire most about David Peace his ability to make real grief and hurt and loss. Yes, there are murders, but in a David Peace book they matter. And the fact that they matter, that they are tragedies, means that reading Peace ain't no picnic. He is a master of his powers, its his skill that lets the reader understand tragedy. Characteristic stylistic techniques such as intruding internal voices, section introductions using different font, layout and voice in almost stream of conciousness flashes, and stark, short-sentence prose all work so effectively that there are bits that are hard to read, because you know that you probably should look away. And, perhaps because Peace draws from history to write his fiction (in this case a real case in immediate post-WWII Tokyo), redemption is hard to find. It you read crime for the satisfaction of justice and order being restored at the end, then this is not the book for you.
If there is redemption here, it is in a book rendered powerfully enough to make the reader see things they would rather ignore, the things that will continue for as long as we continue to look away.
I would rank it as good as GB84, better than The Damned United. The rest of the Japan trilogy is now on my list. (Might recharge the psychic batteries with something a bit fluffier first, though.)
What I admire most about David Peace his ability to make real grief and hurt and loss. Yes, there are murders, but in a David Peace book they matter. And the fact that they matter, that they are tragedies, means that reading Peace ain't no picnic. He is a master of his powers, its his skill that lets the reader understand tragedy. Characteristic stylistic techniques such as intruding internal voices, section introductions using different font, layout and voice in almost stream of conciousness flashes, and stark, short-sentence prose all work so effectively that there are bits that are hard to read, because you know that you probably should look away. And, perhaps because Peace draws from history to write his fiction (in this case a real case in immediate post-WWII Tokyo), redemption is hard to find. It you read crime for the satisfaction of justice and order being restored at the end, then this is not the book for you.
If there is redemption here, it is in a book rendered powerfully enough to make the reader see things they would rather ignore, the things that will continue for as long as we continue to look away.
I would rank it as good as GB84, better than The Damned United. The rest of the Japan trilogy is now on my list. (Might recharge the psychic batteries with something a bit fluffier first, though.)
January 6, 2016
2,5 μέχρι τη μέση ηταν τέλειο . Μαγευτικό . Μετα τα μαγιά έσπασαν , μαζί και τα ��εύρα μου .
February 29, 2024
Questo è un Giappone diverso da quello che siamo soliti pensare… "Tokyo anno zero" è un romanzo noir avvincente che offre una cruda e coinvolgente rappresentazione della Tokyo del dopoguerra. Ambientato nel caos e nella disperazione del Giappone post-bellico, il libro segue le vicende di un investigatore alle prese con un omicidio misterioso. La prosa è assolutamente originale e ricca di atmosfera, i personaggi complessi, l'autore dipinge un ritratto affascinante e inquietante della società giapponese in un periodo di profondo cambiamento.
I sopravvissuti sono davvero quelli fortunati? Come convivere con il senso di colpa schiacciante e la voglia di ricominciare da zero, con una nuova identità, portandosi il passato alle spalle?
C’è davvero una cura all’ossessione?
I sopravvissuti sono davvero quelli fortunati? Come convivere con il senso di colpa schiacciante e la voglia di ricominciare da zero, con una nuova identità, portandosi il passato alle spalle?
C’è davvero una cura all’ossessione?
August 5, 2024
vorrei avere a disposizione le parole per descrivere le sensazioni che ho a proposito di questo libro o di quelle che mi ha provocato durante la lettura.
sebbene alcune volte mi perdessi tra nomi, luoghi e spazi temporali non specificati, è stato un viaggio pazzesco e non vedo l'ora di rileggerlo per poterne avere una comprensione ancora maggiore.
David Peace penso sia uno dei migliori scrittori che io abbia mai incrociato, non so come sia possibile anche solo pensare di poter scrivere un libro del genere in questo modo: il suo stile mi ha colpita e affondata completamente. voglio poi assolutamente recuperare gli altri due volumi della Trilogia.
sebbene alcune volte mi perdessi tra nomi, luoghi e spazi temporali non specificati, è stato un viaggio pazzesco e non vedo l'ora di rileggerlo per poterne avere una comprensione ancora maggiore.
David Peace penso sia uno dei migliori scrittori che io abbia mai incrociato, non so come sia possibile anche solo pensare di poter scrivere un libro del genere in questo modo: il suo stile mi ha colpita e affondata completamente. voglio poi assolutamente recuperare gli altri due volumi della Trilogia.
January 30, 2020
I liked this one very much, though the style at times was a bit grating and I think letting us up for air a bit more would have worked better than drowning the reader under the heavy weight of constant repetition and confusion.
However, that weight did bring my heart to beat faster and my eyes to focus a bit more to be sure not to miss what would happen next.
Full review on blog soon:
However, that weight did bring my heart to beat faster and my eyes to focus a bit more to be sure not to miss what would happen next.
Full review on blog soon:
March 12, 2011
The sad irony of completing this book just before and reviewing it just after the latest major earthquake in Japan is not lost on me.
The book is set amongst disaster - a hint of an earlier devastating Earthquake that hit Tokyo directly in 1923 is overshadowed by the triple moral horror of Japanese atrocities in China in the 1930s, the downright evil Allied firebombing of the civilian population and the humiliation of occupation.
This is a crime novel written by a Briton who has lived long in Japan but it is also a novel of horror. Like all such novels, I cannot tell you the plot so I have to give you a warning instead.
This book is worth reading to the end but you may be irritated by Peace's irritating stylistic affectation of constant repetitions of sounds and phrases, incantations that have their ultimate purpose that becomes clear by the end but which bear down on the reader for the first 140 pages before the story really takes over.
Yes, this conceit does have its purpose in building atmosphere and psychological trauma but it is painful to read at times and some of you may just give up. I suggest that you don't ... he is a fine writer and a little experimentation in a hackneyed genre is welcome.
I am always wary of writers purporting to 'know' another culture or past but whatever it is that Peace is claiming to know, I won't quarrel with him. As if to deal with sceptics like me, the book closes with a glossary and four pages of further reading in Japanese culture, both fiction and non-fiction.
What he has done well is capture humiliation under an occupation that was far from humane but which was well deserved. As in Germany in Year Zero sex is currency in the battle for survival and humiliation lies not only in defeat but in becoming a whole race of beta males before the alpha conquerors.
The experience may have been relatively short-lived (two or three years perhaps) but it was scarring and, as disaster, it ranks with the earthquake and fire bombing in its own way.
Peace brilliantly captures the dogged a-moralism of a nation of men forced to reinvent themselves much as former Nazis had to do half way across the world.
This is no fashionable political conspiracy novel, however, but a grim tale of sexual obsession and murder and the horror lies less in the slashing of victims (we are used to that by now) and more in the ambience of despair.
It is the first of a trilogy based (we understand) on real murder cases during the American Occupation and, if I can bear any repetition of the stylistic conceits, I shall seek the rest out.
The book is set amongst disaster - a hint of an earlier devastating Earthquake that hit Tokyo directly in 1923 is overshadowed by the triple moral horror of Japanese atrocities in China in the 1930s, the downright evil Allied firebombing of the civilian population and the humiliation of occupation.
This is a crime novel written by a Briton who has lived long in Japan but it is also a novel of horror. Like all such novels, I cannot tell you the plot so I have to give you a warning instead.
This book is worth reading to the end but you may be irritated by Peace's irritating stylistic affectation of constant repetitions of sounds and phrases, incantations that have their ultimate purpose that becomes clear by the end but which bear down on the reader for the first 140 pages before the story really takes over.
Yes, this conceit does have its purpose in building atmosphere and psychological trauma but it is painful to read at times and some of you may just give up. I suggest that you don't ... he is a fine writer and a little experimentation in a hackneyed genre is welcome.
I am always wary of writers purporting to 'know' another culture or past but whatever it is that Peace is claiming to know, I won't quarrel with him. As if to deal with sceptics like me, the book closes with a glossary and four pages of further reading in Japanese culture, both fiction and non-fiction.
What he has done well is capture humiliation under an occupation that was far from humane but which was well deserved. As in Germany in Year Zero sex is currency in the battle for survival and humiliation lies not only in defeat but in becoming a whole race of beta males before the alpha conquerors.
The experience may have been relatively short-lived (two or three years perhaps) but it was scarring and, as disaster, it ranks with the earthquake and fire bombing in its own way.
Peace brilliantly captures the dogged a-moralism of a nation of men forced to reinvent themselves much as former Nazis had to do half way across the world.
This is no fashionable political conspiracy novel, however, but a grim tale of sexual obsession and murder and the horror lies less in the slashing of victims (we are used to that by now) and more in the ambience of despair.
It is the first of a trilogy based (we understand) on real murder cases during the American Occupation and, if I can bear any repetition of the stylistic conceits, I shall seek the rest out.
November 9, 2015
Narrando la historia real de la investigación de los crímenes un asesino en serie en el Tokyo durante e inmediatamente posterior de la Segunda Guerra Mundial, David Peace ha creado un relato paranoico en el que nos introduce en la mente del inspector Minami de la policía metropolitana. Contado en primera persona, la narración está salpicada constantemente de onomatopeyas japoneses y frases que se repiten una y otra vez ("Me pica y me rasco. Gari-gari") para crear un efecto muy peculiar que puede resultar molesto al principio pero fascinante cuando uno entra en el juego.
Peace retrata un Tokyo destruido y rendido a los estadounidenses, a los que el protagonista se refiere como Vencedores. Este orgullo herido y otras características propias de la cultura japonesa se entremezcla con la amenaza de purgas por crímenes de guerra y otras tramas clásicas de la novela negra (la corrupción, la vida privada frente a la personal del policía) para crear una trama en la que el argumento no es muy original pero el tratamiento sí.
Quizá esperaba una novela negra más clásica cuando empecé, pero al terminar no estoy nada arrepentido. Eso sí, si no entras en su peculiar estilo narrativo puede hacerse muy pesado.
Peace retrata un Tokyo destruido y rendido a los estadounidenses, a los que el protagonista se refiere como Vencedores. Este orgullo herido y otras características propias de la cultura japonesa se entremezcla con la amenaza de purgas por crímenes de guerra y otras tramas clásicas de la novela negra (la corrupción, la vida privada frente a la personal del policía) para crear una trama en la que el argumento no es muy original pero el tratamiento sí.
Quizá esperaba una novela negra más clásica cuando empecé, pero al terminar no estoy nada arrepentido. Eso sí, si no entras en su peculiar estilo narrativo puede hacerse muy pesado.
April 14, 2009
Apparently based on a true story, this novelization brings the reader into the mind of a troubled Japanese police detective struggling to capture and bring to justice a serial rapist/killer. The protagonist also must deal with shifting alliances, the Japanese underground as it struggles against foreign competition, and conditions wrought upon a proud people by occupation of the country by the victorious Allies at the conclusion of World War II. Minami also must deal with his complicity in atrocities committed in China at the outset of the war and his personal suffering. Although not a difficult read, I was bogged down and bored with the repetitions---the book could easily have been halved in length. I know it was part of the style, and it does come together at the end, but I must admit that I skimmed through much of the italicized portions. I found it interesting and compelling despite the drawbacks.
September 18, 2018
Original pela leitura vertiginosa que nos proporciona
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