You Were Never Really Here

You Were Never Really Here is a brilliant title, I think, full of possibilities. It drew me to Jonathan Ames' novella, published by Pushkin Vertigo, whose list is eclectic and very interesting. Apparently, this began life as a long short story in 2013, and a somewhat expanded version appeared four years later. I found the novella gripping and very well-written, and my only reservation was that it seemed oddly truncated. Perhaps Ames could have expanded it even further. But at least excessive brevity is a good and rather uncommon fault. There's no flab in his writing. None.

It's the story of Joe, a formidable ex-Marine who is troubled by suicidal thoughts. He specialises in covert rescues of the victims of human traffickers, and through a contact is introduced to a senator whose daughter has become the prey of a criminal gang. Joe's implacability makes him an impressively menacing protagonist, and the story grips like a cobra. There's a good plot twist, and although I did feel frustrated by the way the book ended, the quality of the prose was such that, overall, I was impressed.

The story has been filmed, with Joaquin Phoenix cast as Joe. His performance as a deeply disturbed character is superb. His dialogue coach won't have been over-worked, since he's inarticulate in the extreme, and indeed I did wonder how easy people would it to follow the story if they haven't read the book.

Nevertheless, the film has attracted excellent reviews, and comparisons to Taxi Driver. Personally, I don't think it's in the same league as that classic movie, and I wasn't convinced by the rather obtrusive soundtrack, either. But Phoenix's acting, and some excellent photography make it worth watching. The book is better, though.

Forgotten Book - The Tokyo Zodiac Murders

Today's Forgotten Book, The Tokyo Zodiac Murders by Soji Shimada, dates back to 1981, but more than thirty years elapsed before the novel was published in English by those splendid publishers Pushkin Vertigo. The translation was undertaken by the equally splendid John Pugmire, whose own imprint, Locked Room International, has been responsible for bringing to to English language readers some truly fascinating locked room mysteries.

Shimada's book caused quite a sensation in Japan on its original release, in that it represented a striking move away from a focus on gritty realism. The story has many elements (such as floor plans and footprints in the snow) that are pure Golden Age, and Shimada is a long-time admirer of classic detective fiction from Britain and America, but it is also modern, dealing with some subjects in a degree of gruesome detail that you would never find in, say, the work of John Dickson Carr or Anthony Wynne.

The story deals with a sequence of murders (and dismemberments) that took place in 1936, and their reinvestigation in 1979. The new inquiry is undertaken by a sort of Holmes-Watson duo, the brilliant young astrologer Kyoshi Mitarai and his friend, the narrator (of most but not all of the book), an illustrator called Takeshi Yoshiki. So it's a cold case mystery, and a very complicated one too. But there are some nice touches of humour, as in Kyoshi's witty debunking of some of the most famous Sherlock Holmes stories - rather as Holmes affected to disdain Gaboriau's stories about Lecoq.

I've never visited Japan, but in recent years I've become increasingly interested in the country's detective fiction, and it was a great thrill for me when The Golden Age of Murder was bought by a Japanese publisher. The Tokyo Zodiac Murders paved the way for a new generation of writers such as Alice Arisugawa who have made intriguing use of classic tropes in their fiction, combining elements familiar from Carr and company with a Japanese sensibility that I find intriguing. I gather that Pushkin Vertigo are planning to publish more crime fiction from Japan, and I look forward to reading it.

Forgotten Book - Vanish in an Instant

I've mentioned several times my admiration for the crime writing of Margaret Millar. She was, in my opinion, one of the best crime writers of the second half of the last century, and it's a shame that her reputation has faded somewhat, although that - sadly - is a fate common to many fine writers, as well as some who aren't quite so good. Happily, Pushkin Vertigo are reintroducing her work to readers of today, and when they asked me for a blurb, I was happy to oblige.

The book they sent to me for comment was Vanish in an Instant. It first appeared in 1952, at a time when she was moving away from her earlier, rather humorous stories, to crime novels which probed the well-springs of violence with subtlety and insight. The story starts at a point where Virginia Barkeley has been accused of murdering her lover, an unpleasant fellow called Margolis. Her mother brings in a young lawyer called Meecham, and he soon finds someone else confessing to the crime.

But Meecham isn't satisfied. The man who claims to have killed Margolis is seriously ill, and Meecham suspects he has an ulterior motive of some kind for making his confession. He begins to dig into the case, and starts to unravel a tangled web of multiple deceptions. As is often the case with Millar, there's a confusion about identity which plays a key part in the plot. It's a device I like, and she handles it very capably, time and again.

Meecham is in some ways a forerunner of her later protagonist, Tom Aragon. A cussed but likeable amateur sleuth, as he investigates, he also finds love. This isn't Millar at her absolute peak, but she was on her way up the ladder as she was writing this book, and there are plenty of good lines, as well as a plot pleasing enough to satisfy fans of the traditional mystery. Well worth reading. I'm glad Pushkin Vertigo have brought it back to the shelves.

Pushkin Vertigo

Recently, I was contacted by the publishers Pushkin Vertigo, who asked if I would be willing to supply a quote in relation to their reissue of Margaret Millar's novel of suspense Vanish in an Instant. I was happy to do so for two reasons. First, I'm a big Millar fan and I'm always delighted whenever her books return to the shelves. Second, I've been impressed by the Pushkin Vertigo imprint, and some of you may recall that I've previously reviewed a couple of their books, by Frederic Dard and Augusto de Angelis, on this blog.

I've taken a further look at their list, and found it really interesting. One of the titles is Vertigo by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac. I hope that more books by that brilliant duo resurface - including, dare I say, some of those which have never been translated into English in the past. I would love to read more of their work; alas, my schoolboy French is not up to it!

I note also that PV have reissued several books by Friedrich Durrenmatt. I first came across this fascinating Swiss writer when I was studying German at A Level. One of the set texts was Durrenmatt's sardonic play The Visit. I loved it, and was prompted to read much of his other work, including his detective stories, some of which are now, happily, available again. The Judge and His Hangman is a good place to start.

I recently read Maria Angelica Bosco's Death Going Down and Leo Perutz's Saint Peter's Snow, both of which I enjoyed. Of the two, Perutz's is perhaps the more striking, because the storyline is quite remarkable. No wonder the Nazis hated it. But both novels are well worth reading,and when time permits I'll talk about them in more detail. Bosco, incidentally, was someone to whom Jorge Luis Borges gave encouragement, and if, like me, you are a Borges fan, that in itself is an endorsement. 

Forgotten Book - The Mystery of the Three Orchids

Since I read my first Maigret novel at a tender age, I've been interested in crime fiction in translation. Until recently, however, there was a real shortage of Golden Age crime translated into English. All that is, happily, beginning to change. And as I mentioned recently, I'm making my own contribution to this by putting together Foreign Bodies, an anthology to be published by the British Library later this year.

Meanwhile I'm taking the opportunity to extend my knowledge of foreign crime fiction of the past. An example is The Mystery of the Three Orchids by Augusto De Angelis. It was published recently by Pushkin Vertigo, who were also responsible for introducing me to the books of Frederic Dard. The translation by Jill Foulston is smoothly readable. It's not a long novel, and none the worse for its relative brevity.

The setting is Milan, where a man's body is found in a leading fashion house. An orchid has been left nearby. Soon, another murder is committed, the victim this time being female. Again, an orchid seems to have been left on the scene by the murderer. What is the significance of the flower, and who is responsible for the crimes? Inspector De Vicenzi, a likeable fellow, sets out to solve the puzzle.An American gangster appears in the story, a plot development that usually makes me wince, but overall it's a nicely done story, and at least the gangster plays a crucial part in the plot.

There's a useful afterword which supplies a little background info about the author. De Angelis (1888-1944) led an interesting life, and enjoyed considerable success with his fiction. The Murdered Banker (classic title!) appeared in 1935, and this particular novel came out seven years later. Sadly, injuries sustained as a result of a beating by Fascists proved fatal two years after this book appeared. But thanks to Pushkin Vertigo, his work is enjoying a new lease of life, and a good thing too.