JAPAN IN HISTORICAL FICTION IN ENGLISH

This is something I’ve been working on for a while now, identifying eligible books from my own collection or library collections. For this ‘historical novel’ means a novel which is deliberately set in the past. Thus Yoshikawa’s Taiko qualifies but Genji Monogatari or the works of Saikaku do not because as far as their authors were concerned, they were writing about the here and now. Likewise Western authors writing in 19^th century Japan about (then) contemporary events unless it is plain their work is set in an earlier century. Thus you will find, for example, only two novels by the pseudonymous Onoto Watanna (an American author hiding - as well she might - under a pseudo-Japanese nom de plume) as these appear to be set some decades earlier than she was writing.

The historical fiction in this list covers from earliest times up to the end of the Meiji period (1868-1912). As can be seen the Restoration and Meiji periods are by far the favourites with Western authors, though there is also a small cottage industry devoted to Will Adams. Please feel free to add to this as I want to make it as complete as possible. Email me at reguli@netspeed.com.au.

The bibliography is divided into two parts. Novels are listed first, followed by short stories. Thus, for example, you will find I. J. Parker’s short stories in the second part, while her novels are in the first part. Likewise anthologies of short stories issued under a single title such as Fujisawa Shuhei’s The bamboo sword and other samurai tales won’t be in the Novels section but broken up into the individual stories in the Short Story section. Please check both parts before sending me any additions and if possible, could you include not only publisher and date but at least a sentence describing the plot.

For those who want to know where to get these, try Amazon (either http://www.amazon.com/ or www.amazon.co.uk for new and secondhand), Alibris (www.alibris.com for secondhand books) or Books and Collectibles (www.booksandcollectibles.com.au another portal to secondhand bookshops like Alibris). You could also try the Asia Bookroom (www.AsiaBookroom.com as they have this type of novel from time to time. In fact I was able to obtain Kumagai from them when I lucked out at Amazon).

Nikki White

A sort of sequel to the Kurosawa film, The Seven Samurai in that the hero, Kakemon, is the son of the swordsman, Kyuzo and returns to the village to visit his father’s grave. While there he encounters a girl who has escaped from the villainous Lord Yoshimatsu. Kakemon wants vengeance on Lord Yoshimatsu because he took his father’s lands. He gathers together the remnants of his father’s retainers and plans to assassinate Yoshimatsu. This is believed to be nearly impossible so he seeks out ninja to gain the necessary skills.

This is a serviceable pot-boiler with no great depth of characterisation and not much description to give a sense of time and place. Some of the names are really strange such as "Samsukuo", the girl who escaped Yoshimatsu. However, the sequences dealing with the ninja have a certain eerie fascination reminiscent of The Samurai.

Someone has hired ninja to kill off, one by one, members of the Kunitoki clan - or so it seems. Retainer Sugura sets out to discover who and why. Unknown to him, the scarred ninja, Honshu, has discovered someone is using the ninja to further his own ambitions, the Kunitoki clan being incidental to the plan.

Written some 15 years after Magnificent Samurai and set somewhat later, apparently the 17^th century, this is a more assured work with more complexity and more of a feel for the period though obviously written by someone without any knowledge of the language. Again the ninja sections are the strongest. However, we still have some rather weird names and carelessness in copy editing (‘nekode’ is also spelled ‘nekade’). The ending is rather abrupt suggesting a possible sequel which does not seem to have eventuated.

Not sighted

Ms Albery (I think she’s the widow of the British Japanologist, Ivan Morris) was a theatrical producer and apparently did quite a bit of research, including time in Japan for this book (so manages to avoid the gaffes and solecisms of Shogun) It’s a novel about noh drama in the 14^th century and depicts three generations of the Kanze family, most particularly the actor-playwright Zeami. It certainly gave me a new appreciation and insight into both noh (which I’ve always considered the best cure for insomnia outside of listening to parliamentary broadcasts) and of Zeami (who had hitherto been more a name on a goodly number of catalogue cards to me, even though I have catalogued quite a few of his works or books about him in Japanese). It’s well written and doesn’t fall into the ‘false exoticism’ trap. The people emerge as real characters - all the more astonishing when you get to the postscript and discover there isn’t very much documentary material on any of them so she had to virtually create them from scratch. Unlike Clavell ,but like Thornton Wilder in The Ides of March, she points out where she has deliberately departed from history and why she has done it, thus giving her readership some credit for intelligence and of prior knowledge of her subject. There are no samurai wielding great swords in this one (though there are some interesting portraits of some of the Ashikaga shoguns, notably Yoshimitsu) but for a look at another side of Japanese history, an important cultural and social side, I’d recommend this book.

This is a translation by Hironaka Wakako and Ann Siller Kostant of a historical novel about Kae, the wife of Hanaoka Seishu (1760-1835) who was the first doctor to develop and use anaesthetic in performing operations and is known for his pioneering work in surgery for breast cancer - some 40 years before doctors in England and the United States used chloroform. However, it is as much as about the conflict between Kae and her beautiful and clever mother-in-law, Otsugi, which in turn reflects the situation still found in Japan today.

The story is told in a series of scenes, beginning when Kae was 8 and begs to be able to see Otsugi who was famous as a beauty and for having crossed the river to marry into the Hanaoka family in Kishu province (now Wakayama Prefecture). Captivated by her, Kae is eager to marry Otsugi’s son, Unpei (later called Seishu) when Otsugi herself audaciously proposes the match to Kae’s father some years later, despite the fact that Kae’s family is of a much higher rank than the Hanaokas. The marriage is rather surreal as Unpei is in Kyoto studying medicine so his place is taken by a medical treatise. Things go well at first and Otsugi and Kae form a close bond as all the efforts of the pair plus Otsugi’s two daughters are bent to earning money to send to Kyoto to support Unpei. However, this all changes when Unpei returns and Otsugi pushes Kae aside, only mentioning the contributions of the sisters, not Kae, and even preventing Kae from sharing her husband’s bed, or even spending any time alone with him. Kae never forgives her and her earlier admiration turns to hate. Otsugi is likewise cold. Their rivalry intensifies when Unpei’s attempts to perfect an anaesthetic require a human subject and each puts herself forward.

This is a compelling study of two strong-willed, courageous women put in conflict by the system which focuses totally on the son/husband who blithely accepts everything they can give him without noticing the friction between the two. When he was studying and the women of the family worked so hard to support him financially, he never wrote home, much to his ailing father’s sorrow. When he came home, the situation didn’t change much as the famines of the 1780s were still affecting everything and later when prosperity returned, the focus changed from the women working together to sacrifice everything for the good of the son to a rivalry between mother and daughter-in-law as to who should undergo the experiment with the anaesthetic, how often and suffer how much. The loss of a child for both parties draws them together briefly but the forces which are at the root of the rivalry prove stronger and a tragedy occurs that leaves Otsugi feeling defeated and she withers away. Sharpest commentators on this are Unpei’s two sisters, particularly Koriku, the younger, who sees what Unpei does not, Unpei isn’t heartless, just self-centred and unobservant, totally focussed on his work as a doctor and on his research.

The characters are complex and well drawn and, part from the rivalry between the women, it draws a picture of the difficulties of a poor rural family and of the state of medicine in the late 18^th century Japan.

This is a translation by James Brandon of Ariyoshi’s Izumo no Kuni, a work originally published in 1972, after being serialised in a magazine in the late 1960s. It is a historical novel about Okuni, the woman who founded and created kabuki. It covers her life from 1588 to 1609. This has a wealth of detail and description to evoke time and place, as well as vividly depicted characters with depth. It’s a novel you can live in with its rich detail and lively style.

It begins with the young Okuni aged 17, part of a troupe of travelling players who come to a festival in Osaka. There her spirited, high-stepping dancing (unlike the shuffling noh) catches the eye of the festival’s patron, a personal assistant to Hideyoshi. This is the start of her career and the story follows her, a woman of great warmth, spirited, independent and driven by a desire to dance, through the vagaries of those turbulent times - her troupe patronised by this lord, then dropped only to be taken up by another. It shows her relationship with various members of her troupe, with the dandy Sanza, her spiteful betrothed from her village, Kyuzo, and others. I really enjoyed this work.

This is a novel about the Shimabara Revolt wherein a group of Christians and others oppressed by the tyranny of the daimyo of Arima seized the abandoned castle of Hara on the Shimabara Peninsula in 1637. The Shogunate laid siege and finally succeeded in storming the castle in April 1638 with the aid of Dutch ships shelling the castle from the sea. All the defenders not dead of starvation were put to death. The novel is about some of the people caught up in these events: Akane, rescued from the flames of Osaka Castle and trained as a samurai; Tajima Jubei, her adopted brother, a swordmaster with ninja connections; Jan Kriek, a brilliant young Jesuit; Maria, a noble Japanese Christian convert and Lord Sanjo, a prince of the Imperial Court, devious and treacherous despite his effeminate appearance. It is entertainingly written, and reads like a chanbara film with lots of colourful characters, action, swordfights, treachery, ninja and noble and not so noble samurai, plus Byzantine Tokugawa politics. Told chiefly from the Japanese characters’ points of view with less emphasis on the Europeans, it makes a contrast with other novels dealing with this period. There is a good sense of period despite the fact Bailey plays fast and loose with dates. Ieyasu died in 1616 not some time in the 1620s, Sen-hime survived the fall of Osaka Castle, Hara Castle fell in 1638 not 1635, and a whole generation of Tokugawas is skipped over - what happened to No. 2 Shogun, Hidetada? But these don’t detract from the enjoyment of the story.

A sequel to her vampire novel The Darkness Inside, one of its major characters is a thousand-year-old Japanese vampire. Fujiwara no Sanemori was a high-born courtier who met a ghostly woman in 1045 who turned him into a vampire. His story continues over the centuries taking in the Sengoku period (where he was a daimyo) and the Tokugawa era (where he was involved with a duel), ending with him as a yakuza boss (how the mighty are fallen!). The historical bits are well told, like an ancient legend with a poetic quality in places. Well worth a read.

This concerns an Englishwoman, Elinor Mills, who comes to Japan to visit her physician brother in Yokohama in 1862,and falls in love and marries a young samurai, Kenjiro, of the Satsuma clan. It makes a refreshing change to read one of these ‘Europeans-in-Japan’ sagas written by and about a woman. It is a paean - with some reservations - to the virtues of the Japanese male, his innate poetry of soul and sundry other virtues over the rather cloddish European males. occasionally, Ms Barr gets on her soapbox a bit too often in arraigning both the European treatment of and attitude to the Japanese at the time, and the attitude of men in general toward women. If some of it leaves a few men grinding their teeth, then they’ll have some idea how most women feel when reading some of the other, male fantasy bodice-rippers - the same ‘looking down the wrong end of a telescope’ sensation.

It’s quite an interesting novel with a number of fascinating subplots regarding others of the European community. A lot of it was very amusing and pleasantly familiar as I’d become familiar with the foibles of the Europeans, the types who were to be found in the treaty ports their prejudices, attitudes, life-styles, etc. through compiling a bibliography of the Harold S. Williams Collection, one of the finest collections in the world of books by and about foreigners in Japan, particularly in the early years.

Of course, some of the novel borders on the soap opera, particularly the second half which deals with the next generation (the book covers 1862-1869,then there is a break, and part two covers the 1880s onwards). It’s a colourful read, by and large, of a Japan undergoing transition from shogun and samurai to modern 19^th century state. A number of historical figures are mentioned and other characters appear who are obviously based on others (e.g. Desmond Hand is surely an analogue of Thomas B. Glover and Taneo Takahashi might well be Fukuzawa Yukichi among others). Events such as the killing of the two Englishmen at Kamakura form important parts of the first part of the book.

The main glitch is that Ms Barr has been ill-served by her copy-editor. The Daibutsu at Kamakura appears constantly misspelled as ‘Diabutsu’, for example. But my favourite was ‘bakafu’ for ‘bakufu’. Yes, well - if you are anti-Tokugawa. it makes a succinct neologism (‘government of fools’ rather than ‘tent government’). There are lots of’ lesser ones - ‘Emperor Komnei’ for ‘Emperor Konmei’, ‘Keike’ (the last shogun) for ‘Keiki’. Silly but annoying, because like Guest’s book, this is well researched. Barr has written other non-fiction books on this period and she knows her stuff. It shows in the ease with which she handles her characters. Unlike a lot of historical novels these days, her people actually talk like 19^th century people (I grew up on 19^th century literature, so I know).

Not sighted.

As a historical novel dealing with Will Adams, this invites comparison with the much later Shogun. Indeed, the Japanese-language wrapper does just that with the word ‘Shogun’ written in the same style as on the Japanese translation of the Clavell work.

However, the style and treatment of its subject sets this work apart from the Clavell novel. In the first place, all the historical characters have their own names. Secondly, while it begins in 1600 with Adams’s arrival in Japan, like Shogun, it continues his story until his death in 1620. Thirdly, it is told purely from his point of view. We are not privy to any conversations or actions where he is not present, unlike Shogun where we get inside the heads of shoguns, samurai, noble ladies, Jesuits, etc.

Drawing on the diaries of Cocks, Saris and Adams himself, Blaker tells a story that is more straightforward and not as cluttered with lurid detail as Clavell’s. There are no irrelevant and lengthy disquisitions on some aspect of Japanese culture which made Shogun so annoying at times (he thus also avoids Clavell’s anachronisms). The narrative is not allowed to bog down in false exoticism. Japan and the Japanese are presented naturally as a rugged 16^th century sea-dog might encounter them. Things are not as sensational (Adams’s fellow shipwrecked sailors are not boiled alive or ill-treated).

Adams himself emerges as an inventive man quick to learn and apply his knowledge, not without a touch of arrogance, evolving into a certain pathos with his obsession with finding the Northwest passage while the world changes around him. I could sympathise with his situation - oddly - of finding a niche and being secure and happy for about 15 years, doing what he did best, then finding gradually the goal posts got moved and the arrival of a number of johnny-come-latelies and wannabes on the scene, creeping into his area of expertise without possessing his knowledge and generally muddying the waters while those at the top have changed and have other ideas of his worth.

There’s humour in it - Blaker has captured both the ponderous sinicised Japanese of polite discourse between samurai and something of the flavour of 16^th century English. And we don’t get gratuitous lessons in Japanese (there is not a Japanese word used in the book).

Worth a read for a different and more economical approach to the subject, particularly if you found Shogun a bit indigestible.

This is a large, epic novel covering the Restoration period thought to about the 1890s, and involving a large canvas of characters all of whose lives somehow touch on each other, no matter in how slight a degree.

These characters consist of the brothers Shimizu, sons of minor samurai of Choshu, the elder of whom is fanatically anti-foreign and warlike, the younger who goes to work for foreigners in Yokohama and takes to following a French socialist. Then there is Ken the orphan raised in a San Francisco gambling house who drifts from protector to protector; Couzot the embittered, impassioned French socialist; Ulyana, the beautiful daughter of a Russian diplomat who follows her own destiny; Shio, the peasant who becomes a soldier in Japan’s modem army; Hirugo, the wandering Buddhist priest, and so on. And beyond them, the great figures of the era, Itagaki, Yamagata, Ito, Saigo, all of whom have their parts to play in the tapestry.

It is extremely well researched but unlike other sprawling sagas of Japan, that research has been assimilated and does not impede the narrative. Butler writes with a real feel for his disparate characters and each one lives and is real. He also has a real feel for Japan, the land, evoking it effortlessly and naturally. His writing is vivid, even poetic with some really lyrical passages and others where he uses the English language to build word-pictures and make word-games that reminded me at times of Gerard Manly-Hopkins.

It is thoughtful and intelligent in its depiction of the birth throes of modem Japan, occasionally foreshadowing Things To Come (Shio’s experiences in the modern Japanese army, for example, Couzot’s strictures on Japanese nationalism and, more obviously, Shio’s encountering a samurai named Tojo).

For a Japanese historical with a bit more meat than usual - no bodice-ripper, this - and one that doesn’t choke you with tedious minutiae of Japanese social life and customs whether relevant or not, or insult your intelligence by depicting the Japanese as types rather than individuals - recommended.

Story of the 16 year old Yoshitsune escaping the monastery and joining his brother, Yoritomo to lead the Minamoto against the Taira. Not sighted.

This novel is set in the 12^th century at the time of the conflict between the Taira and the Minamoto. The hero is Yoshi, the illegitimate son of the sister of the lord of Okitsu. A most unlikely hero he is when we first meet him, returning from a period at the imperial court at Kyoto when he is an over-refined social butterfly. However, a series of losses, first his cousin killed accidentally by the rather brutal Lord Chikara, then a series of mentors, hardens him, and teaches him skills with the sword, and about himself until he is ready to face his nemesis.

This is full of all kinds of anachronisms I won’t even bother to list. I am no expert on Genpei period Japan but most of what Charney described (metal armour, fencing academies, tea drinking, etc. etc.) seem to belong to a much later era, Sengoku and Tokugawa. And the names are equally as improbable for that era (or at all in some cases). However, the story is well told and well written, so much so that I found myself ignoring all but the most egregious.

This sequel concludes the story begun in Sensei and one is not left with the impression, as with some other two-parters, that a third (or more) novels were planned but never written or published (e.g. the Daimyo series). It begins the night after the first book ends with Yoshi returning with his father’s body from the cemetery where they duelled. The political situation deteriorates with the death of Kiyomori. At the latter’s funeral, Yoshi is forced to kill some of the young Taira ‘red guards’ and loses his only friend. Feeling himself cursed, he renounces the use of the sword, though he is prepared to teach it. With his now widowed childhood sweetheart, Nami, he makes his way to Yoritomo on the orders of the Cloistered Emperor who is considering giving his support to the Minamoto. On his way, a chance encounter makes him the enemy of Kiso Yoshinaka, though Yoshinaka’s companion, Tomoe, befriends Nami.

Much of the book details Yoshi and Nami’s adventures with Yoshinaka’s forces (where Yoshi is sent as an advisor) while civil war rages, culminating in Yoshi’s joining an acting troupe to enter Kyoto and secure it for Yoritomo from Yoshinaka who has grown too independent.

This is a better book than the first because the anachronisms are less glaring and there is more a feel for the era (even if the conceit that Yoshi might have started noh was a bit much and wisely Charney does not pursue it). There’s plenty of action from duels with war-fan against sword to full scale battles. Charney preserves the conventions of his sources (Heike Monogatari etc.) of describing the wardrobe of the combatants and this, plus the poetry sundry characters compose and exchange adds to the atmosphere.

Some things grated such as the character of Yukiie - weak, cowardly, obese and mincingly gay but I still enjoyed it because it was never boring and not many English-language historical novels are set in this period. Charney, we are informed at the end of the book, is a martial artist of 20 years standing (at the time), winner of the All-American and senior karate title in 1970 and 1975, who also studied assorted other Asian martial arts styles plus the sword. This explains the tendency to transpose the modern dojo to pre-feudal Japan that irritated me in the first novel and also his knowledge of sword-strokes put to good use in the second.

Not reviewed yet.

Clavell, James, Shogun. London, Coronet, 1976 (c.1975). ISBN 0340209178. 1600

The plot is almost too well known after over a quarter of a century, a TV mini-series and a film, to need repeating. Basically it’s the Will Adams story with the numbers filed off. The Dutch ship on which pilot John Blackthorne is serving is wrecked off the coast of Japan. The crew is rescued but is incarcerated. It is 1600 and Japan, after a century of civil war, is divided between the forces of two powerful warlords, Lord Toranaga (the Tokugawa Ieyasu analog) and Lord Ishido (Ishida, one of the regents of the Toyotomi heir, here called Yaemon). Blackthorne’s knowledge of ship-building and piloting makes him valuable to Toranaga who befriends him, gives him samurai rank, a household and a wife. However, it is Mariko, the Christian wife of a local daimyo whom Blackthorne loves but she, like so many others of his new friends is embroiled in the plots and counter-plots of Toranaga and his enemies as the two factions head toward a final battle.

This is a great sprawling novel, with lots of colourful characters and a vivid, almost cinematic writing style. Its strengths are the characterisations, the descriptions, all the plotting and intrigue and the sheer adventure. The weakness is that it is far too long, padded out with too much of the fruits of Clavell’s decade-long research. Some of these are extraneous to the plot and merely bog it down such as the disquisition on geisha (which appears to have been lifted holus-bolus from House of a Thousand Pleasures) and the lengthy language lessons ("Yomimasu", "Mimasu" etc straight out of a 20^th century primer and not reflecting the speech of 17^th century samurai). It is a common problem with putting in everything one has read that one is bound to introduce anachronisms and other errors (my favourite is the scene in Osaka jail where a character is said not to have a personal name but one derived from his occupation - porter which is rendered as ‘Akabo’, that is ‘Redcap’ i.e. a railway porter. Sorry, the Shinkansen won’t be through here for another 3 ½ centuries!) There is also some really strange Japanese such as ‘Mama-san’. The other minus is that towards the latter half of the book, it does become rather bogged down in dialogue. That said, it is still a rattling good read despite the verbiage, a classic ‘Mary Sue’ story but really so much better than some of the bodice-rippers which it inspired because not only can Clavell write but he treats all his characters, good and bad, men and women, with respect.

Story of Nakahama Manjiro (1827-1898) from age 13 when he is shipwrecked then rescued and taken to America. Juvenile fiction. Not sighted.

Told in the form of a memoir, written at the end of her life and based on her diaries, this is the fictional autobiography of Murasaki Shikibu, the author of Genji monogatari. It begins with Murasaki, then called Fuji, attending her mother’s funeral, aged 16 and discovering the need and ability to write. It traces her life looking after her father, a scholar of Chinese verse, her younger brother and her friendships with various young women which are the catalysts for her series of tales about an imaginary court prince, "Genji" which she circulates privately. Never once believing she will be summoned to serve at the court, she relies on her father and later her husband to describe the life there. Finally, in her 30s, she is called to serve the empress but by this time her feelings about Genji and his world are changing.

This is a very elegant novel, written in the leisurely style of the diaries of Heian court ladies. Dalby has used Murasaki’s diary as well as Genji monogatari to furnish background and narrative, augmented by Akazome Emon’s Eiga monogatari. It is no surprise to read that Dalby became engrossed in 11^th century Japan after being captivated by reading a translation of the Genji as a teenager because she has absorbed that world so well that she recreates it effortlessly and gracefully. The style is limpid and easy to read and there is no need for any real prior knowledge of the era, though to have read the Genji or at least the works of Murasaki’s contemporaries adds depth.

Murasaki develops, becoming disillusioned with her creation, restless and the other characters are well drawn, too, such as the rather self-centred Michinaga, Murasaki’s husband. The work concludes with a "lost" final chapter of the Genji which sets forth some of the ideas Murasaki was toying with in her narrative.

Dalkey, Kara, Genpei. New York, Tor, 2001 ISBN 03128970710 12^th century.

This is a retelling of the conflict between the Taira and the Minamoto clans, focusing on Taira no Kiyomori, Minamoto Yoshitomo, Yoritomo and Yoshitsune and the Emperor Go-Shirakawa. It is based largely on the Heike Monogatari, the Gikeiki and similar war poems. Written in a fluid, vivid style, it gives a fantastic twist to the familiar material by including the ghosts, demons, gods, portents and magic found in some of the sources to create almost an alternate world where such things are real and can shape events. By focusing on only a few of a rather large cast of characters, Dalkey can give them a bit of depth and colour and make the story easier to follow.

A major whinge is the constant misspelling of ‘Minamoto’ as ‘Minomoto’ which is rather disconcerting in a novel in which that family figures so prominently. There are other misspellings such as ‘Shinzei’ for ‘Shinsai’ and reference to geisha some six centuries before the term was used. Then there is the boast of the Monk Saiko that he is superior to Kiyomori because he is descended of a "respectable samurai family". This does not make sense in that time and place. Leaving out the fact that the Taira claimed descent from an Imperial prince, the issue here was that being a samurai of any sort was a social disaster. One had to be of a kuge (court noble) family to count. The respect shown samurai was still in the future. But apart from these problems, it is well worth reading.

Dalkey, Kara, Heavenward Path. New York, Harcourt, 1998. 11^th century, sequel to Little Sister. Not sighted.

Dalkey, Kara, Little Sister. New York, Harcourt, 1999 11^th century. Not sighted.

Dalkey, Kara, The Nightingale. New York, Ace Books, 1988. ISBN 0441579736

In the 1980s, Ace began a series of re-telling of various ‘fairy’ tales which aimed to restore to the genre its original adult, earthier, darker mysterious qualities which had been bowdlerised to make the stories fit for the Victorian nursery. Authors were encouraged to ring the changes on their chosen tale and embellish it as they saw fit. This one is based on the Hans Christian Andersen story of the same name (the one about the Emperor of China who has as his most prized possession a nightingale who sings for him and one day the Emperor of Japan send him a mechanical one which supersedes the real one until it breaks down and the Emperor falls ill.)

Dalkey transfers her story to Japan (because she knows more about Japan) and sometime during the Heian period. Uigusu (‘nightingale’ in Japanese), the daughter of an obscure courtier, is told by her guardian spirit that she will win her way to a high position and favour at the Emperor’s court because of her flute-playing. Uigusu is delighted with the prophecy, more so when it comes to pass and the Emperor falls in love with her. However, she discovers what is really behind all this, the true nature of her guardian spirit and it takes all her courage and that of other people including her friends to avert the evil and save the Emperor and the realm.

This is an enchanting work which retains many of the features of the Andersen tale: the satirising of the pomposity of the courtiers (many of the characters have names which reflect their occupation or personality) and instead of a bird who tells him everything, the Emperor has a cat. The story is peopled with engaging characters such as the poetic lady-in-waiting Shonasaki (no guessing which two prominent Heian period women authors this name is a portmanteau of), Kuma the guard, Katte the kitchen maid and Takenoko who struggles to be a hermit. The prose has a lyrical quality and there is a wry humour as well as some terrifying scenes. The final segment is quite powerful and moving when the aid of the Sun Goddess is invoked. The cover and frontispiece fit the mood of the series well as they evoke the era of the lavishly illustrated fairy tale book with their art nouveau Japanese lady reclining beneath a caged nightingale.

Minor whinge: the persistent misspelling of ‘Seiryoden’ as ‘Seriyo Den’ and double dipping with titles found also in Rowland’ Pillow Book of Lady Wisteria, such as Mt Fuji-san (either Mt Fuji or Fuji-san).

Enchi, Fumiko, A Tale of False Fortunes.  Honolulu, University of Hawaii Press, 2000 ISBN 0824821874

This novel, originally published in Japan in 1965, is set in the late 10th-early 11th centuries and purports to be, in part, what the narrator recalls of a (fictitious) historical document describing the love between the Emperor Ichijo (980-1011) and the Empress Teishi. This is counterpointed with the actual 11th century romance, Eiga Monogatari ("Tale of Flowering Fortunes") which is quoted in the novel but is seen as biased towards the regent Fujiwara Michinaga (no friend of Teishi's). Thus a detailed and layered picture is built up of not only personalities such as Teishi, Ichijo, Michinaga, a pair of fictitious mediumistic sisters. Ayame and Kureha, and Kureha's lover, Yukikuni) but also of the p;olitical machinations and jockeying for position that went on at court. A further layer is added in that the narrator, from time to time, refers to this supposed historical document as 'fiction' and as something which is, after all, only partly remembered from her youth as part of her father's library and never seen again thus imparting a layer of ambiguity.

Nevertheless, this is a tale of steadfast love between two people who come across as perhaps a bit naive or unworldly, given what is happening around them. For me, the political intrigue was fascinating, showing the lengths people like  Michinaga would go to in order to secure and maintain their position. It is also a tale of un required love - Kureha's for Yukikuni, Yukikuni's for Teishi - and jealousy.

A wonderful rich novel to immerse one in the hothouse elegant world of the 11th century imperial court.

This is a translation by Van C. Gessel of a novel originally published under the title Samurai in 1980. Set around 1613, this story concerns a rural samurai from northeastern Japan who is sent with eight others of similar rank, together with Velasco, a Spanish priest acting as interpreter, to open negotiations for direct trade between Japan and Mexico. The samurai (never named directly but referred to as Hasekura) wants only to serve his lord and complete the mission in the hope that as a reward his ancestral lands will be returned, something his elderly uncle constantly harps on. The others are similarly motivated. Velasco has his own agenda. As a Franciscan, he feels himself threatened by the Jesuits whose methods he believes have antagonised the Japanese authorities, leading to persecutions. He believes that by using the Japanese greed for trade as a lever, he can persuade them to allow in more priest and stop the persecutions. Meantime, in Japan, the shogun is playing his own game and those in power in Mexico, Spain and Italy where the embassy eventually ends up, are not much better.

Based on an historical events and on some of the historical characters involved, this is a complex study of two men, the loyal, long-suffering samurai who disdains Christianity as nothing to do with him but who, through a series of betrayals, comes to understand why Christ appeals to people: the friend who is always there, though as wretched and despised as the samurai feels himself, a view very different from that promulgated by the church; and the priest, Velasco, a passionate complex man who is something of a zealot. His desire to see Japan converted leads him to self delusion, arrogance and to manipulate others, such as the Japanese. Yet in some ways he is aware of his failings of ambition and arrogance and at the end recognises in full his errors.

Endo says in his introduction written for the English edition that he didn’t intend to write an historical novel, that is an account of the times. His interest is in the spiritual and psychological journey undertaken by Hasekura. Nonetheless this is a compelling historical novel precisely because of its psychological study of Hasekura, the other envoys and Velasco: how the long voyages, their ambiguous treatment, the people they meet (such as the renegade Japanese priest gone native in Mexico), even the food they eat and the sights they see affect them. Velasco’s attitude to the Japanese as a whole is ambiguous - he sees them as cunning and almost Ferengi-like in their pursuit of profit yet he risks his life to try to make them a Christian nation, though it could be argues that Velasco’s obsession with ‘conquering’ Japan is a form of egotism. There’s a lot of food for thought wrapped up in an engrossing tale.

This is a translation by William Johnston of a novel originally published in 1966 under the title Chinmoku, this English translation was originally published by Sophia University in 1969. Thus it predates The Samurai but deals with many of the same themes.

Set around 1638, it concerns two Portuguese priests, Rodrigo and Garpe (a third is left behind in Macao because of illness) who smuggle themselves into Japan to discover the truth about whether the senior Jesuit missionary in Japan, Christavao Fereira, had really apostased and what had happened to him. They also feel that the flock in Japan should not be abandoned despite shogunal decrees and bans, especially with the Church had been flourishing so well in the previous century.

Accompanied by Kichijiro, a former Christian who wants to return to Japan, they arrive by Chinese junk at a poor village and are sheltered for a time while they conduct masses. Unfortunately, they are betrayed and must flee, Rodrigo heading one way and Garpe another while the village leaders are cruelly punished. Rodrigo goes to Goto Island where he had previously made contact with another Christian village only to find it burned. Betrayal seems to stalk him as does the suffering of the Japanese Christians, not only because of their faith but the harsh conditions they live under, paying exorbitant taxes to their lords. He finds himself questioning God’s silence in the face of prayers, entreaties and this suffering. His nemesis is the astute and cunning Lord Inoue of Echigo who tries to persuade him to apostase and puts forth the argument that Christianity just can’t take root in Japan, it’s too foreign, it needs to adapt. Fereira, whom Rodrigo meets later during his own captivity, makes a similar point, noting that though there were many Japanese converts, were they worshipping the same god as the Jesuits and others were preaching about or some Buddhist/Christian fusion?

Another theme is the nature of apostasy - Kichijiro declares himself a weak man, not fit for martyrdom but Rodrigo feels that under normal circumstances he would have lived out his life in the faith as a solid citizen (a universal theme as similar could be said about collaborators and quislings during World War Two, people who often did not have that edge to resist, to take risks).

Again an involving story about a turbulent period of Japanese history which raises some interesting questions, peopled with interesting and well-drawn characters.

Not sighted.

Not sighted.

Love story set in Kyoto in the 11^th century. Not sighted.

In the early 17^th century, a corpse of a samurai, shot full of arrows, is discovered by a charcoal burner at the crossroads near his village. The village is plagued by bandits; the magistrate is a shady character and the governor of the province is severely into retro-Heian. Into this wanders Matsuyama Kaze, a ronin on a quest to find the daughter of his dead lord and lady. He decides to investigate to save the life of the charcoal burner who is accused of the crime, there being no one else handy.

This novel manages to pack a lot into its 210 pages in hardcover. The characters and settings a vividly evoked - and what characters! A bigger bunch of dubious and eccentric people would be hard to find. It is a very visual book and owes a lot to such Kurosawa/Mifune films as Yojimbo and Sanjuro. Matsuyama’s physical description is similar to Mifune’s and he introduces himself in much the same way as the ronin in those to films, by incorporating parts of the local scene into his name (there was wind blowing through the pines on a hill, hence "Matsuyama Kaze" i.e. "Mountain Pine Wind".)

My only whinge is that Furutani does spend a number of paragraphs, even in such a slim volume, regaling us with titbits of his research that he obviously found fascinating and wanted to share, no matter how irrelevant to the plot, such as how a peasant’s hut was constructed.

Kaze comes across a merchant and his bodyguard being attacked by bandits. He decides to help and kills them. He then agrees to escort the man, Hishigawa and his handcart of gold to Kamakura as they are still being pursued by the Hishigawa’s enemies. There was something odd about the attacking bandits, they seemed more interested in killing the merchant and less in the gold, especially the young man the Hishigawa identified as their leader. On top of that, Kaze’s sword broke in his duel with the leader. More mystery awaits him in Kamakura as Hishigawa’s mansion holds many secrets. Added to that, Kaze encounters the fierce granny, her grandson and servant from the Noguchi clan who are bent on a vendetta whom he met at the end of the previous book. They had given him a cloth with his clan’s crest on it, his only clue to the whereabouts of the missing girl.

This not a murder mystery as the first book was. Rather the mystery lies in the unravelling of the secrets of the Hishigawa household and the full story behind Elder Grandma’s quest. Too, Kaze also discovers pretty well what has happened to his lady’s daughter but still needs actually to find her. We are also given more detail about Kaze’s past and his relationship with his lady and what happened when the Okubo took their castle, thus filling in the sketchy information in the first novel.

The tendency to give lengthy disquisitions on points of interest in Japanese history or culture is still there but it is better integrated into the story, for example the excursus on sword-making is appropriate because Kaze is visiting a master sword-maker to get a replacement for his broken sword. These things may be overly familiar and a little irritating to anyone who has studied Japanese history but one has to remember that many readers have not. That said, this is every bit as enjoyable as the first, more so Furutani has curbed this discursiveness. Like the first book, it is extremely vivid and again happily borrows bits of business from Kurosawa films (a debt Furutani cheerfully acknowledges) thus lending a familiarity to fans of chanbara and aiding in the creation of atmosphere, time and place.

In this third book in Furutani’s series about ronin Matsuyama Kaze, we find him drawing closer to his goal of locating his dead Lady’s daughter. She is in a brothel for young girls in Edo. However, several things complicate what should be a straightforward rescue operation. First he is on wanted list of samurai attached to lords on the wrong side at Sekigahara and secondly, someone takes a pot shot at Ieyasu while he is inspecting the walls of his new Edo castle and the hunt is on for the assassin. Matsuyama, in his guise as a sword-juggling street entertainer is recognised by a guard captain and his old enemy Okubo sees to it he is placed on top of the list of suspects. So Matsuyama must discover who is behind the assassination attempt as well as retrieve the girl.

As with the earlier entries, the novel is stuffed with colourful characters, this time from Edo’s underworld: gamblers, their clients, ninja, street entertainers, brothel owners, bath-house attendants and so on. Matsuyama continues to appeal with his blend of intelligence, insight, sword skills and dry humour, very much in the Mifune Yojimbo character vein. The other characters are well drawn, too, especially Ieyasu, considering the author’s admitted lack of interrest in him. There’s plenty of action, including a night-time chase across the rooftops, duels and the eerie, shadowy world of the ninja (more like The Samurai than the usual modern American type,. thank goodness). Interspersed with these are sharp observations on the beauty and cruelty of life at the time, all written in Furutani’s vivid cinematic style. It all comes to a satisfying conclusion with the final defeat of an old enemy. Whether the series continues (what is Matsuyama to do with a young girl in tow wandering the countryside?) is anyone’s guess since a trilogy is all Furutani has ever spoken about.

Not sighted.

Grey, Anthony, Tokyo Bay: a novel of Japan. London, Pan, 1997. Perry Expedition (1852-1854).

Set in 1853, tells of the clash of cultures which occur when the Perry Expedition arrives. Not sighted.

This is a novel about Yoshitsune and his rivalry with his brother, Yoritomo, and is set against the Genpei Wars. It is not only readable but well researched, colourful, evocative, even quite moving at the end. It creates quite a convincing picture of Yoshitsune, a gifted warrior but rash and impetuous as a youth, too concerned with glory in battle and being A Hero to be fully aware of the treachery around him, or to really comprehend it, even at the end.

No false exoticism here, all flows smoothly with no ‘time out’ for disquisitions on food, customs and dress, though these are described where relevant. My only whinge was that, despite apparently drawing heavily on the Heike Monogatari, the Gikeiki and others, Guest manages to omit completely Tomoe Gozen in the Yoshinaka segments. She is never even mentioned, thus adding to the slightly misogynistic tone the book has at times (nearly all the women are wimps ,except Shizuka, Antoku’s grandmother and Hojo Masako ,though the last is a shadowy figure, little seen).

Set in 1860-1861, this novel concerns four people - two Japanese and two Englishmen - whose lives intertwine during the turbulent events surrounding the opening of treaty ports to foreign trade and the sonno-joi (‘revere the emperor, expel the barbarians’) movement which opposed it.

The four people are Tada Sho, the older son of a samurai family who has trained as a doctor in both Japanese and Western medicine; James Wilson, his friend, a doctor attached to the British Legation in Edo; Peverel Fitzpaine, a young language student from Devon, and Umegawa, the daughter of a sword maker sold to the Yoshiwara as a girl and now a second-rank courtesan in Shinagawa. In addition, there are other members of the British legation; Masayuki, Sho’s younger brother who has joined the sonno-joi lot; Nathaniel Jessop, the American consul, his Dutch interpreter, and Tada Akiko, Sho’s grim and traditional samurai mother.

The story concerns James and Sho’s various attempts (and failures) to understand each other’s cultures and attitudes; Umegawa and Pev’s bittersweet affair, the American versus the British approach to dealing with Japan; the sonno-jois beliefs and the reasons for their actions, and the violence surrounding them all. Unlike a lot of Restoration novels, this is set mainly in Edo and Odawara. In a pleasant change, Yokohama is visited only a few times and none of the characters views it favourably.

It is definitely one of the better Restoration stories as it attempts to present both Japanese and European views, feelings and attitudes without preaching or reading a historical lecture at the reader. Moreover, it isn’t a bodice-ripper, either (macho Western man having exotic Japanese beauties all falling over each other to get into his bed because he knows how to treat them, unlike their menfolk yawn). The characters are well drawn and three-dimensional, particularly Sho, a man strongly tied to his world and its traditions but able to see something can be learned from the West. Called ‘traitor’ by his own family yet treated with suspicion by the Europeans because of his samurai background, he emerges with considerable dignity.

Pev is another sharply drawn character whose youthful naivete and insensitivity causes heartache and confusion for Umegawa. Umegawa and her friends are not your typical marshmallow Madame Butterfly types, either, but realistic and rounded individuals.

Like others before her, Guest uses historical characters under aliases (eg Jessop is Townsend Harris) but she does so sparingly and acknowledges this in an author’s note. All her characters are treated sympathetically showing there were no real villains only people trying to do what they thought best for their respective countries. Lest the above give the impression of an elaborate character study, 1 should add that there is plenty of action - attacks by ronin, a fire, an outbreak of cholera, sword fights and even a mini-battle.

Harris, Geraldine, White Cranes Castle. London, Macmillan, 1979

Juvenile. Not sighted.

This is a sort of sequel to Haugaard’s 1984 novel, The Samurai’s Tale in that we discover what happened to Murakami and his wife Aki-hime. However, it is told in the first person by Saru. an orphaned boy growing up and living by his wits on the streets of Kofuchu, during the time of Takeda Katsuyori, Shingen’s heir. All Saru knows is that his father was killed in battle and his mother died giving birth to him, he doesn’t even know his real name.

It is a tale from the other side, the under side, of most stories set in the civil war period. To Saru, samurai are arrogant oppressors. He hates them and even when he comes to realise not all are like that, he has no desire to become one. Nor does he want to be a priest like the one who befriended him.

The story is vividly told, recreating what it must have been like if you weren’t one of the heroic elite, the difficulties just staying alive given harsh winters, famines and rapacious warlords. There are many acute observations and moments of humour and revelation, lest anyone think it grim and unrelenting. I really enjoyed it.

The story of the Ako Vendetta is told from the point of view of Jiro, the son of a servant in Oishi Kuranosuke’s household who serves sometimes as a messenger or spy for Oishi as he plots the clan’s revenge for the death of Lord Asano.

The viewpoint of a boy who is not even a samurai gives this familiar tale an unusual twist. Jiro has rather mixed feelings about the various samurai he has to deal with. While he respects Oishi and really likes Otaka Gengo, he finds their code and outlook on life baffling, something so far beyond him it is as if they are creatures from another world. In this way he reflects the reactions of a modern reader, reminding us that not everyone in feudal Japan thought as a samurai. Jiro’s ties to them cause him to stay with them right to the end, even witnessing the attack on Lord Kira’s mansion and the latter’s beheading. Jiro’s encountering playwright Chikamatsu Monzaemon brings out the theatrical nature of this highly ritualised and formalised society as Monzaemon considers the actions of the ronin good theatre and that Oishi, in his feigning of indifference to his lord’s death, a better actor than many on the stage. The style is spare, sometimes a little too economical resulting in jerky rather monotonous short sentences but it is overall a good read.

At four years old, Murakami Harutomo loses in battle his father, a samurai serving Lord Uesugi Kenshin, and then his mother and older brothers in the aftermath. Swept up by the victorious army of Takeda Shingen, he is given the name Taro and bestowed upon one of Shingen’s generals, Lord Akiyama Nobutomo, initially as a cook’s offsider, then as a stable boy. H never gives up his dream of regaining his heritage and becoming a samurai even though it lands him in strife. However, he does gradually rise in rank, gaining and losing friends for this is the time of civil war. There are battle and tragedies, treachery ghosts and ninja.

This is a very well written historical for young adults that anyone else can enjoy. Haugaard has a vivid evocative style and captures well the uncertainties and sadness of that eventful time, as well as the heroism and loyalty. The story is told by Harutomo as an old man which gives it an immediacy and lets us see "Taro’s" growth as a character.

Not sighted.

This is the first book in a proposed trilogy, set in one of those Japan-analogs along the lines of Jessica Amanda Salmondson’s Naipon or Ruth Manley’s Idzumo. Like those other trilogies, the country concerned is enough like Japan of a particular time (in this case the Sengoku Period) as to warrant being listed in a bibliography of historical novels.

Fleeing the massacre of his village in which his mother and step-father have died, and fearing the wrath of Lord Iida whom he has unseated from his horse in his fligh, the boy Tomasu is saved from Iida’s henchmen by the mysterious Lord Otori Shigeru. Tomasu’s people are the Hidden who worship a secret god but Tomasu bears an uncanny resemblance to Shigeru’s slain brother, Takeshi. Temporarily struck mute by his recent experiences, Tomasu, now called Takeo and part of Shigeru’s household, discovers some unusual powers, part of yet another legacy, that of the Tribe to whom his father belonged. The Tribe are remnants of families of sorcerers and keep to themselves, though hire out their skills to those whom will pay (think super-ninja, or rather ninja whose skills are real not illusion). It is a time of civil war with Lord Iida seeking to gain control of as many fiefs as he can, having defeated the Otori in battle some years before. As the one responsible for Takeshi’s death, he is Shigeru’s sworn enemy. Shigeru’s uncles control the Otori fief and want Iida as an ally while Shigeru wants revenge. Meantime, young Lady Kaede is hostage at the castle of one of Iida’s allies, where she is shamefully treated but Iida sees a way to use her to bring down the popular Shigeru.

This is a tale of treachery, mystery, intrigue and hidden agendas, and conflicting loyalties, particularly Takeo who is torn between his loyalty to Shigeru who saved his life and who has treated him kindly, and the bonds he has with the Tribe, much as he might despise them, and the Hidden, the people and religion he grew up with. His story is told in the first person and alternates with Lady Kaede’s tale, told in the third person as the two are gradually drawn together by chance, at least for a while.

Although the seasons pass in turn, the chief impression is dampness and oppression - humidity, storms, floods, typhoons and constant rain. Water everywhere, all of which fits the sombre mood of most of the novel. The style is straightforward with short sentences, yet vividly descriptive. There are enough twists and turns to keep one guessing. It will be interesting to see how this all develops since both protagonists have been left at a plateau in their lives.

Sequel to Across the Nightingale Floor, this novel deals with the aftermath of the defeat of the Iida and Lord Arai’s takeover. Kaede returns home, the home she hasn’t since she was seven. She finds the place run down and her father unhinged. Shizuka, her attendant and a member of the Tribe (the ninja-like organisation) puts it about that Kaede secretly married Shigeru to explain her pregnancy, whereas the father is Takeo, his adopted brother. The eccentric exiled neighbour, Lord Fujiwara, takes an interest in her, wanting to add her to his collection of fine art but he might be Kaede’s best hope if she wants to claim her Maruyama inheritance.

Meantime, in fulfilment of his promise, Takeo has gone off with the Tribe, leaving Shigeru unavenged. He wants to explore that side of his heritage, however, the others fear his powers even though he lacks their training and their mindset. He soon finds their ruthlessness and cruelty repellent and resolves to escape. Lord Arai plans to exterminate the Tribe.

As in the first novel, this is told in the first person by Takeo alternating with a third person account of Kaede, though this time the book begins with Kaede instead of Takeo. Both characters develop considerably. Kaede discovers strength and steel she didn’t know she had, as well as a rebellion against a woman’s lot of that time and place, and a desire to lead. Actually, I found her and her story the more interesting of the two this time around. Takeo not only finds out he really isn’t suited to be one of the tribe, despite his Tribe-derived skills but that he is a fusion of the three elements: Otori (through an unsuspected blood tie), the Tribe and the Hidden (he reconnects with the Hidden and hears a prophecy). Though both learn and grow, neither is cured of a certain rashness and an impulsive act near the end puts them in danger from several directions.

The tone of this novel is not as sombre as the first. There is more action and the passing seasons lyrically described, especially autumn and winter. One is not left with a feeling of oppressive humidity. The cover is exquisite, the soft blue-toned snowy landscape beneath a foregrounded sword.

Set right after the conclusion of the previous book, Grass For His Pillow, we find Takeo and Kaede are married and are at the temple of Terayama from where they proceed to Maruyama to claim Kaede’s inheritance. In the process Takeo fights two of the prophesied battles as the Tohan are besieging Maruyama. Once Maruyama is taken, Takeo turns his attention to retaking Hagi and neutralising his Otori uncles. To do that, he seeks the assistance of a childhood friend turned pirate. In the meantime Kaede finds her sisters have been sent away and visits Lord Fujiwara to demand an explanation and is captured by him. Takeo loses Maruyama through treachery and the forces of Lord Arai and in the end is compelled to surrender to him as well. Things look very bleak indeed with Kaede kidnapped, friends killed, his own capture and news of the birth of his son by Yuki, the son destined to kill him, and only part of the prophecy fulfilled.

This concludes the story quite satisfactorily. It has a lot more action and battles than the earlier books, including a spectacular ‘ninja’ style duel near the end. However, I feel characterisation suffered a bit, particularly Kaede who was developing in an interesting way in the second book but her sense of empowerment disappears in this one to be replaced with an impression she is being punished for daring to be bold and independent. In fact, there is a decidedly anti-feminist subtext at times. There is a hint that more novels set in this universe could appear. After all, there are some loose ends or ideas which are not followed up such as the presence of foreigners and their technology and the fact the Hidden and the Christians believe the same thing. The Tribe is split but not destroyed and there are still restless warlords trying to overthrow the peace that Takeo has struggled so hard to bring. It’s as if nothing has really changed.

At almost 700 pages, this novel is almost as big as the trilogy which precedes it. The 'three countries' have been at peace for 16 years and have grown prosperous under the wise rule of Takeo and Kaede. The couple have three daughters, the older, Shigeko, is a practitioner of the Way pf the Houou, while her younger sisters, the twins Miki and Maya, study at the secret villages of the Tribe. Takeo's brother-in-law, however, is plotting against him and an imperial messenger comes with an order from the Emperor that he abdicate. Meantime, Takeo's son  by Yuki is now 16 years old and has been raised by an old enemy among the Tribe to hate Takeo. Other cracks in the smooth surface of life in Three Countries appear - old teachers and mentors die, foreigners appear wanting trade and even the loyalty of the Tribe is in doubt. Piece b y piece the idyllic world Takeo and Kaede worked so hard to build is  unravelling.

You know this is going to be a bit doom, gloom and epitaph as the famous opening lines of the Heike Monogatari are used as a commencing quote. Indeed, if there is a theme, it is that not only that nothing lasts forever, not even good things as there is always some envious person trying to tear them down  but that things built on white lies and deception can't last anyway even if the deception was done for the best of reasons.

That said, the novel sorely needs a good editor. Too long and wordy by half, it seems to take ages to get anywhere. Fully a third of the book is taken up with a lot of to-ing and fro-ing from each of the major cities of the Three Countries and in long slabs of dialogue discussing the political situation, There are too many characters introduced with their genealogies but little else to distinguish them. This would have been better handled with a list of characters at the front of the book. The prose is rather more ponderous than in the previous three novels. It does pick up, however, and there are some exciting battles near the end. There are also some gorgeous lyrical descriptions of scenery which we have come to expect but it is quite a struggle at times to get there. Another problem us characterisation. Kaede seemed slightly "off" to me with her obsession with having a son and her total besottedness with the the child when it did eventuate. Her reactions near the end seemed over the top and she actually became quite unsympathetic. Lord Saga's forgiveness of and attraction to Shigeko also seemed unlikely given she cost him his eye and forced his withdrawal. Some reviewers have described the ending as 'rushed' and I have to agree. Not a bad read but it could have been pruned to allow for better character development later on.

Hearn, Liam, Heaven's Net is Wide. Sydney, Hachette Australia, 2007. ISBN 9780733621444

This 'prequel' tells Shigeru's story and begins about 16 or 17 years before the events in Across the Nightingale Floor. In it, we learn of the backgrounds and motivations of many of the people who feature in the original; trilogy, especially Nightingale Floor such as Shizuka, Muto Kenji, Kikuta Kotaro, Arai Daiichi and Maruyama Naomi; and how they figure in  Shigeru's life and consequently that of Takeo. From the outset, we see the Middle Country threatened by the ambitious Iida family of the Tohan. It is only a matter of time before they start making incursions into Otori territory drawn by its wealth. Shigeru is aware of this and tries to make preparations but is hindered by his uncles who would rather appease the Iida. The turning point comes with the defeat of the Otori at Yaegahara where so many of their people are slain - a defeat caused by the treachery of one of their vassal. Shigeru must tread a dangerous path, feigning weakness and an obsession with agricultural matters while he is plotting his revenge with a wily, suspicious enemy on the one hand and his treacherous uncles on the other. Gradually the pieces fall into place: the realisation that assassination  is the only way to deal with Iida, the alliance with Lady Maruyama, the discovery of his half-brother's son surviving among the Hidden and the construction of the Nightingale Floor - so the scene is set for the events of the original trilogy.

This books is a great improvement on Harsh Cry of the Heron. One reason is that in being a 'prequel' it has a certain symmetry and the events build on each other to form the background to the later stories. This isn't all, however, as the novel stands up well enough on its own. Shigeru is an appealing character and I found him more sympathetic than Takeo in the later books. He is humorous and humane, quick to learn, curious, not afraid to branch out into other areas of learning. His motives are clear and he is consistent. The same is true of Lady Maruyama - she, too, loses a child to the Kikuta 'sleep' but she doesn't go bonkers suddenly and throw away everything she's worked for as Kaede did in Harsh Cry. The prose is as lyrical and as descriptive as in the other books and it moves swiftly. Something - indeed, quite a few somethings - happens and continue to happen right from the start and it isn't as ponderous as Heron. There is a list of characters in the front and how they are related, something Heron could have benefited from and saved a lot of tedium.

One thing I find curious is that both in  Heron and Nightingale Floor, the death of a major character - Takeo in the former and Shigeru in the latter - happens off-stage and is described by a third party. I am also not sure what the significance of the Hidden is - a sect of Christians founded long before the coming of the Portuguese, apparently founded by missionaries coming from India. It never really amounts to much. But these are minor quibbles. Net is a satisfying final novel which is also the start of the series.

This is borderline in that it is factual but written as a collection of short stories. It concerns the samurai of the bakumatsu period, (hence the subtitle – "from the bloody final years of the shogun"). The usual suspects appear such as Sakamoto Ryoma, Kondo Isami, Katsu Kaishu, Saigo Takamori and so on. However, it is an engaging read (despite some curious lapses of grammar or syntax and some irritating repetition of certain phrases in places) with lots of blood and thunder, or at any rate blood and suicide, usually described in loving technicolour detail. Best of all, it tells in English, often for the first time, the stories of many of these men. Hillsborough has also written a biography of Ryoma (Ridgeback, 1999) and a study of the Shinsengumi (Tuttle, 2005), both apparently in a similar fictional style though solidly grounded in research.

In the 1730s, Seikei, the 14 year old son of an Osaka merchant, is travelling with his father to Edo. They stop at an inn at Kamakura and during the night Seikei is wakened by the terrifying sight of a demon with a glowing jewel in its hand. In the morning, another guest, the arrogant daimyo, Lord Hakuseki, reports the theft of a rare ruby and accuses a paper-maker. Judge Ooka comes to investigate and, taken with Seikei’s account of the demon and his powers of observation, uses him to investigate, thus uncovering a story of long laid plans of vengeance involving a troupe of actors who were staying at the inn, a ruined Christian daimyo family with the tale of the 47 ronin as a leitmotiv, echoing or underscoring the action of some of the main characters.

This is a well-written tale for young adult readers, and an Edgar Allan Poe Award finalist. Seikei, with his dreams of becoming a samurai is an appealing hero with his observant eye and adherence to the code of those he is barred from joining by bis birth. The glimpses of travelling theatre life are interesting and the ‘villain’ is not unsympathetic, in fact is in fact a victim as much as anything. There’s plenty of suspense and action, too.

Seikei, now adopted by Judge Ooka and thus nominally a samurai, is endeavouring to learn archery from the samurai, Bunzo, while Ooka is away investigating a spate of fires and murders in Edo. Bunzo, Seikei and others of ooka’s household are summoned to Edo by the judge. It seems that the fires and deaths surround a beautiful geisha, Umae, though most people attribute it to a demon stalking the Yoshiwara. Seikei is left to investigate becoming and oddjob boy at the teahouse frequented by Umae. Here he finds himself not only involved in the life of this artificial world but accused of arson and responsible (or so he feels) for a kidnapping. His investigations take him away from the Yoshiwara and put his own life in danger.

Another suspenseful story, this time with the Yoshiwara as background rather than the theatre in a tale of jealousy and spite. What is a little confusing is that the Hoobles conflate geisha with oiran but perhaps the editors may have thought it too confusing to distinguish between the two. Still it is vividly written and moves well.

This is the third novel about Seikei and his adopted father, the famous Judge Ooka. This time a lord is murdered and it looks like the work of a ninja. As Lord Inaba was in Edo on the compulsory alternate year’s attendance, the shogun is responsible for his safety and requests Ooka to investigate. The only clue is a blood-stained origami butterfly and Ooka sends Seikei off to Shinano to the maker of the paper to find out who bought it. With him, he sends Tatsuno, a former ninja, while he visits the governor of Yamato province. On the journey Seikei learns of the plight of farmers on Lord Inaba’s lands and tries to help them only to have things go very wrong. He also learns that the killer was a ninja named Kitsune who lives on a sacred mountain no one has set foot on. But who hired him?

Although it is pretty obvious early on who is responsible for the murder, this is still an enjoyable story with a strong hint of the supernatural. Seikei learns that sometimes, no matter how good your intentions, you can’t always save people or even help them. He also learns something of the origin of ninjutsu and its spiritual side.

There are some minor whinges such as the persistent misspelling/misromanisation of ‘shimenawa’ as ‘simenawa’ (they are using Modified Hepburn, not kunreishiki) and the fact that Inaba was killed in his castle in Edo, rather than in his mansion which is what domain lords lived in while there.

Seikei is summoned to the Shogun who has a special task for him. The boy emperor, Yasuhito, has gone on strike, as it were, saying he is not the emperor and refusing to carry out his duties. The Shogun feels that Seikei, being about the same age, might be able to persuade him to return to his duties. Judge Ooka cannot help him as he has other commitments so Seikei is on his own in Kyoto. The emperor is kidnapped after Seikei sees him and he finds himself embroiled in a plot against the Shogun and being mistaken for the boy emperor whom he is trying to find.

This fourth novel about Seikei is fast-paced with lots of twists and turns, once you get over the fact that Seikei got to see (and I do mean ‘see’) the Emperor rather too easily. Interesting idea to make the Grass-cutting Sword (part of the imperial regalia) a sword of power, rather like Excalibur and it makes sense in the context of these novels which often have a slightly mystical element in them. There’s humour too with the Minister of the Left and the Minister of the Right who can never agree on anything but must contradict each other, even when forced to be beasts of burden.

Hoobler, Dorothy and Thomas, A Samurai Never Fears Death, New York, Philomel, 2007 ISBN 978-0399246098

Judge Ooka and Seikei arrive in Osaka, the judge to stay at the castle and investigate reports of smuggling while Seikei visits his family. Things have changed since he left. His parents are in semi-retirement and living elsewhere while his younger brother has taken over the running of the business and lives above the shop with their sister, Asako. When Asako's boyfriend is accused of murderer at a local puppet theatre, Seikei finds himself involved in discovering the real killer and what the connection is between a popular puppet play and a gang of smugglers when he is quite alone, a samurai among merchants and townsmen and help is far away.

Another fast moving entry in this series which has the added interest of being set in the world of the puppet theatre. Seikei is growing up and showing maturity as well as initiative.

Not sighted.

This is a translation by Gavin Frew of Ikenami’s Koroshi no yonin and is described on the jacket as one of the few English translations of a jidai novel. This novel from the prolific Ikenami is about Fujieda Baian, an acupuncturist in 18^th century Edo who hires out as an assassin as a side-business (obviously never heard of the Hippocratic Oath). A TV and film series was made in the early 1970s starring Ogata Ken, entitled Hissatsu shikakenin based on this novel and its sequels.

The book consists of six loosely connected short stories serving as chapters through which we come to realise that Baian has a definite code and although he doesn’t trust women (he has good reasons) certain individual women command his respect. The prose - its always hard with translations to know how much of the style reflects the original and how much the translator - is sparse and serviceable with a minimum of description and the dialogue can come across as a little stilted somewhat like subtitles on a chanbara film or some of Van Gulik’s Judge Dee stories.

Still, once you get past the first story this settles down a bit and the misogynistic tone is shown to be a foible of Baian and his friend, not everyone else. An OK read for some action and some devious ideas on how to do away with pestiferous persons.

Ikenami, Shotaro, Bridge of Darkness. Tokyo, Kodansha, 1993

Contains four tales featuring Fujieda Baian. Not sighted.

Originally published in Japanese as Furin Kazan in 1959, this is the tale of the mysterious Yamamoto Kansuke, military adviser to Takeda Shingen. It takes up his story in 1542 when he is around 50 and living on his wits as a ronin in a temple, advising the Imagawa family though not actually employed by them. He comes to the attention of the Takeda of Kai and thus begins a highly successful collaboration between Shingen and Kansuke which leads to the expansion of Kai and eventually to conflict with the equally ambitious Uesugi Kenshin of Echigo. Added into the mix is Princess Yuu, the daughter of a defeated enemy whom Kansuke finds, about to commit suicide, in the ruins of a castle he has captured. She is just as strong minded and ambitious in her way as Shingen, who takes her as a concubine, a union Kansuke sees as being the key to the future success of the Takedas. He vows to defend her and Shingen with his life. Of course, things don't go that smoothly and there is plenty of intrigue and rivalry not only among the various warlords but among the women in Shingen's life.

The 1969 film Furin Kazan (aka Samurai Banners, starring Mifune Toshiro as Kansuke, Nakamura Kinnosuke as Shingen and Sakuma Yoshiko as Yuu) was the first Japanese feature film I saw (in 1970) and I've always had a soft spot for it. So I was pleased to find that an English translation of the original novel has been published. This entirely lives up to expectations, being full of intrigue and the clash of strong personalities, particularly the complex Yuu (who would have fully understood the feelings behind Catullus' Odi et amo). There are battles and Kansuke's cunning, diplomacy and almost prescience, and the irony that his life up until he joined the Takeda, had been liv ed as a bluff. There are not man y novels available in English set in this period, the middle of the Sengoku Period. It's either 50 years or so later with Will Adams; the Restoration or, more recently, the mushrooming of a whole sub-genre of novels set in the Heian period and aping the style of the old court diaries. So this is something to treasure, even if the translation seems a little rough and awkward in places. 

Not sighted.

Set in the late 10^th century, this is the diary of a court lady and her rivalry with another court lady, Izumi, over the love of one deceitful man who has been exiled for seducing the Vestal of Ise who in her turn has been recalled in disgrace (lucky they weren’t in ancient Rome – the man would have been beheaded and the Vestal buried alive.)

At first one feels that the narrator is rather spiteful, especially as a piece of gossip she circulates about the Vestal’s sister in order to deflect Izumi’s suspicion from herself has unforeseen and rather dire consequences for the Emperor and the country. Then one realises that Izumi is every bit as spiteful and vengeful in her retaliation. As the novel progresses, we come to see the narrator as a complex woman capable of honesty and self-awareness, especially when she falls in love a second time.

This is a tale of obsessions and jealousy played against the elegant life of the Heian period court, a life which is threatened by natural disasters and plague. The introduction, written by the Vestal’s sister, considers the entire diary a web of lies, a fabrication written by someone unable to distinguish the truth. Perhaps there is some truth in this, something one considers in the later chapters as the narrator seems set on unravelling her own world.

This is a very well written book, evoking so well those old court diaries and the hothouse world in which those women lived with all the pettiness and rivalry of people living close together with too much time on their hands, vying for position or favour. Though it is a first novel, Jedamus is very much in command of her material, unlike, say, Elizabeth Kostova with The Historian. It haunts one long after one has finished the novel.

Jennings, William, The Ronin. Tokyo, Tuttle, 1968. ISBN 0804805067

The Zen myth this ironical novel is based on is the one about the sinner who eventually achieves enlightenment by digging a tunnel with bare hands through a mountain so travellers will not have to risk their lives on a precipice. However, the bulk of the novel concerns the events that brought the ronin of the title to such a place. He is a big, strong, somewhat amoral, self-centred and violent young man, proud of his skills with a sword who is eventually employed by a lord much against the wishes of the lord’s rather prissy wife. The ronin fantasises strangling her and gets himself appointed her body guard whereupon he seduces her. However, he finds the tables turned when she comes regularly to his rooms and wears him out. She tricks him into killing her husband and runs off with him but their relationship doesn’t last as he becomes disgusted with her meanness as they slip down the social ladder, both resorting to prostitution and theft. He eventually abandons her in a village and ends up in another village where travellers must pass a precipice to cross a mountain. Almost inadvertently he starts helping them cross, then resolves to dig a tunnel through the mountain. In the meantime, the son of his late lord has grown and wants vengeance on the murderer of his father and abductor of his mother… This is a black, wry story, peopled with selfish, self-deluded folk, some of whom eventually wake up, some of whom do not. It can be read again and again for its black humour and observations on human foibles as it is written in an elegant, limpid style.

Johnson, Kij, The Fox Woman. New York, Tor, 2000. ISBN 0312875592

Based on an old Japanese tale, this is set during the Heian period and concerns a nobleman, Yoshifuji, in self-imposed exile from the court on a remote estate. He is dissatisfied with his life and longs for something but doesn’t know what which leads him to become fascinated by a family of foxes living on his estate.

One of these foxes, Kitsune, a young vixen, is equally fascinated by Yoshifuji and comes to love him. With the aid of her puzzled family, she invokes fox-magic to become a human woman living in a splendid palace.Shikujo, Yoshifuji’s wife, has an inordinate fear of the foxes and we learn that in her past, she had a strange encounter with one in her husband’s absence.

This is exquisitely written, evoking not only the world of monogatari (which characters often refer to) and Heian court ladies’ diaries but also a languorous world of mystery where the division between reality and illusion is very fine and often crossed. The story is also about identity, facing up to the truth behind comfortable half-truths we tell each other about ourselves and our actions, about leading one’s own life and not having it depend on another (Yoshifuji is not the centre of fox-magic) but at the same time to allow others their illusions, especially if you have nothing better to put in their place. Some minor but persistent typos such as Michinoka for Michinoku (a type of paper) do not spoil a lovely tale.

Johnson, Kij, Fudoki. New York, Tor, 2003 ISBN 0765303906

Princess Harueme, an old court lady, is dying and starts to write a story in the empty notebooks she finds as she clears out her trunks preparatory to moving out of the palace where she has lived for 50 years to a convent. The year is 1129 and she has never written a tale before. This tale is about a cat living in an abandoned house on Kyoto’s Nijo Avenue until, following an earthquake and fire which destroys her family and their colony of related feral cats. Alone, she flees but cannot feel she can join another cat colony as she has lost her fudoki, the collective memory and tales of her own colony and another colony’s would not be hers. Her loss drives her to take the Tokaido road east where she is beset by the chattering of assorted kami, including that of the road itself. She is not impressed and perhaps as a punishment, she awakens one morning to find she has been changed into a human woman. She is even less impressed. She travels on meeting various humans but remains very much a loner and more cat than human. For a time she travels with Osa Hitachi no Nakara, a woman of the eastern provinces with whom she forms a friendship and so becomes involved in her family’s struggle to reclaim estates taken from them by a rival. As she travels, she evolves from a simple traveller to a pedlar of needles to a woman warrior.

This story is intertwined with Harueme’s own, her reflections on her early life, her relationships with her imperial family, especially her beloved half-brother, an emperor, her three husbands, her lover, her maid and her cats. As she has aged, she has lost husbands, her half-brother, her lover. Though independent-minded with a fascination for things mechanical, particularly the making of water-clocks, she has never left the palace apart from one futile attempt to run away. Now as she nears the end of her life, she thinks again of escape.

This is a story of loss (the cat has lost her fudoki, even her feline form), of transformation and rediscovery. It is beautifully written, poetic and evocative of those old court diaries and stories. And for cat lovers, it captures the spirit and attitudes of cats so well.

Like Shogun, this is set in 1600 and involves the conflict between Tokugawa Ieyasu and Ishida Mitsunari but it is on a much smaller canvas, dealing with one event, near Lake Biwa and from the point of view of ninja. Fuma Kotaro successfully completes an assassination assignment for Ishida but returns to his base to discover it in flames and all but a handful of his ninja dead. Suspecting treachery in the ranks, he devises a number of stratagems to discover the culprit. Meanwhile the traitor tries to warn Ieyasu that Kotaro is still alive and dangerous but the sentry who discovers the note is illiterate. This breakdown in communication compromises the traitor’s position among the Tokugawa men and he must redeem himself while heading for a final showdown with Kotaro.

Preceding the novel itself is an introduction by the author which describes the history of the ninja, their skills and weaponry, illustrated by photos and reproductions of old prints. The novel, too, is lavishly illustrated with original line drawings making for a slim but attractive book. The story is quite slight once stripped of the descriptions of weapons, particularly the more ingenious ninja devices and the first part gets bogged down a bit with too many glosses, some not always accurate (‘hankyu’ is just the bow, not the bow and quiver). There are some misprints: ‘Genghis Kahn’ for ‘Genghis Khan’ and ‘shinobo’ for ‘shinobi’ but it isn’t a bad read, all the same. Incidentally, Fuma Kotaro’s band of ninja were not divided into the traditional jonin, chunin and genin (this was an Iga/Koga thing), they chiefly operated in the Kanto region as they worked hereditarily for the Go-Hojo, Lords of Odawara, so both the Toyotomi and the Tokugawa were their enemies.

Yet another novel set in the Restoration period but this one, by the Australian author of Patch of Blue, manages to avoid most of the clichés. This one is a little reminiscent of Lyn Guest’s Yedo but goes one better in that it is told entirely from the Japanese point of view.

It begins in 1845 and traces two generations of the Yamamoto, a samurai family who live near Yokohama. The first half is mainly concerned with Kenichi, his wife Masa and his son Renzo and ends in 1854 with Perry’s arrival. The second half picks up some 20 years later (thus avoiding the usual decades so beloved of writers dealing with this era) and deals with the adult Renzo and his friends and family.

One of the best things about the book is that it avoids the usual foreigners versus Japanese troubles so well covered elsewhere, leaving it free to concentrate on the years before and the years after the Restoration; to look at how these events would impact on the lives of ordinary people. Another strength is the characterisation. These people live, you can see them and hear them, particularly the women. Kata does much to dispel the cliché of the submissive doormat so beloved of a lot of male writers, yet without getting into warrior maidens and martial artists. As one of her male characters says: "...the ladies of Japan are known throughout the land as flowers with iron stems." Most memorable are the aristocratic Masa and the tortured Aiko. But the men are also well drawn and don’t suffer because of the attention given to the ladies, as can happen. A third strength is the description - you feel as though you are there.

I had a few whinges, though. First was that the editor seems to have been asleep as a number of spelling errors/typos crept into the English, never mind the Japanese, eg ‘dilletante’ for ‘dilettante’, ‘obsequities’ for ‘obligations’ and ‘centurian’ for ‘centenarian’. Second were the anachronisms in the first part where Kata writes of late Tokugawa Japan as if it were already the Meiji Era, employing such terms as ‘Imperial palace’ for Edo Castle (why? the Emperor wasn’t living there); ‘judo’ for the unarmed combat of the samurai; giving a character the title ‘Count’; having people giving garden parties with samurai accompanied by their wives attending. Just plain confusing was some historical background given where things decades apart were said to be centuries apart (eg the Shimabara Rebellion and the banning of foreigners) so that you wouldn’t know when it was set except for the introduction that gives the year. Kata seems totally confused or ignorant of the social classes of the Tokugawa period, making no distinction between Kyoto court nobility and samurai, treating the daimyo as something separate from samurai, and dividing people into ‘aristocrats’ and ‘plebeians’, never mind farmers and merchants. Naturally, once she reached the Meiji period most of these problems disappeared.

Another whinge was that it was told in a rather allusive way. Very little happens directly in front of the reader, as it were. Most events are reflected on by one character or another sometime after they have happened so the story proceeds in fits and starts. To gloss over some events in a tale by having a character think back on them from some point further along in the story is fine but not when most of the book is like that.

In sum, not a bad read if you don’t mind a few historical glitches and confusion in the first part. There are some very vividly written sequences with a fair bit of suspense and action such as when Perry arrives.

A collection of short stories about samurai drawn from various sources retold for children aged 11 and up. Useful to have these all in one place.

A samurai bully is defeated by a wise old samurai who wins by not fighting. A traditional story retold for ages 4-8. Not sighted.

This story is set in 1637-1638 and concerns members of the Dutch Factory at Hirado who unwittingly become embroiled in the Shimabara Rebellion and its aftermath. Chief among these are Dirk Jongh, an Englishman by birth who speaks Japanese and knows the people; the Director, Becker, a real bureaucrat with no love for the Japanese; the historical Francois Caron, a Frenchman by birth who also speaks Japanese. and Trudi Van Os, the spirited Japan-born niece of one of the other members

This is a colourful, fast-paced novel with a good amount of background cultural and historical yet doesn’t get bogged down (and he uses the real names of the historical characters unlike Clavell et al.) Lancaster explains in the preface the liberties he’s taken, using Tokyo rather than Edo and simplifying some of the personal names to avoid confusion. After all, the book was published a scant six years after the end of the Pacific War. The historical background is sound except one minor whinge: he calls the samurai attached to the shogun the ‘Imperial Army’ and gives the men in it pre-war Japanese ranks such as taisa (colonel) and gunso (sergeant) and attributes to the Japanese many traits and attitudes associated with their early 20^th century counterparts.

Trudi was a typical Hollywood heroine drip who, while not lacking courage definitely lacked commonsense, rushing into danger and having to be rescued; doing the Hollywood heroine thing of beating ineffectually with her fists on the back of some man restraining her, and making irrational objections to certain decisions. The way she is mistaken for a Japanese because of her dark colouring when she is of pure Dutch descent is also a bit hard to swallow. On the other hand Caron and the wily lord of Hirado are well drawn. The descriptions are vivid giving a good feel of the sights and sounds of 17^th century Hirado or the desperate siege of Hara Castle and its unhappy inmates.

Lancaster, Bruce, Wide Sleeve of Kwannon. New York, Frederick A. Stokes, 1938 (reprinted Rivercity Press, 1976 and Amereon, 1977)

Not sighted.

This is the third in a series of books based on the Ray Bradbury short story where someone, on a time safari into prehistoric times, accidentally kills a butterfly and in doing so alters his own present. I haven’t read the first two but couldn’t resist this one because of its title which manages to combine two currently megatrendy things. Actually, though aimed at teenagers, it isn’t a bad read. The premise is that one Eckels (not to be confused with anyone from The Goon Show), a psychotic not only killed a butterfly but shot a dinosaur, thus messing history up and creating a series of alternate realities by his actions.

The books opens on a world where humans never evolved and dinosaurs are the intelligent species. Most of the action takes place in yet another alternate reality where Japan colonised America in the 16^th century and is set in what would have been Illinois with samurai warring with Mound Builders and Iroquois, using arquebuses (this now being the 17^th century) as well as swords. Apart from the usual glitches over names (Akira being used as a family rather than a given name and the odd masculine given name such as ‘Tomiko’) it was fun.

Murder mystery set in a remote, snowbound inn in northern Japan in 1903. Not sighted.

Not sighted.

The story is set in Edo of 1794 in the reign of Ienari. It involves the geisha O-Kita, the most popular in Edo, and her friends, the painters Hokusai and Sharaku, and their encounters with Daniel Heacock, a young New England surgeon brought secretly from Dejima to treat Ienari for bladder stones. They are embroiled in court intrigue, assassination attempts by different factions and near civil war.

The authors’ background is Japanese art and their love for and knowledge about woodblock prints and their artists shines through. Indeed, the writing is almost pictorial - vividly evoking images of scenery. However, away from that it falls in a heap. It is quite obvious they know next to nothing of the language, customs or history of Japan beyond what art history touches on and the book was full of the most annoying glitches which tended either to confuse the reader as to what was really meant or to shake credibility and bring one outside the story. What can you say of a book which constantly refers to Japan’s "sun god"! Or which describes O-Bon (a summer festival) and in the next paragraph refers to the scent of cherry blossoms.

The Japanese words and names need a good proof-reader (if you are going to use Japanese and gloss it with English, at least get the term correct). The authors had samurai all tarted up in full armour and helmets at all times - in the midst of Pax Tokugawa - and wandering around with muskets; a geisha appears before her mistress wearing shoes indoors and the same mistress is sitting on a Chinese chair; later the geisha entertains shipwrecked European sailors in Kyoto (unlikely they would have got so far inland before the Restoration)…and these are just the major whinges.

However, I did like the Longstreets’ portrayal of Hokusai, and Heacock was a good depiction of someone who undergoes what I call the ‘Hal Porter Syndrome’ - intense fascination with Japan (usually its art which in Heacock’s case includes O-Kita), then equally intense revulsion and rejection, occasioned by a perceived ‘barbarity’ or other failing in the people. Definitely a curiosity which could have been so much better with more care and more research.

This is a novel about Will Adams. It is told as his memoirs, written as he lies dying in Japan, and starts with his youth in Kent, going on to his apprenticeship as a shipwright with Nicholas Diggins in London. It records sundry of his voyages to the Levant, his service under Drake, culminating in the Armada. It is not until half-way through the book that he sails to Japan on the Liefde. Once there, we are on territory made familiar by various other Adams novels: his friendship with Ieyasu, his problems with the Portuguese, conflicts with John Saris and the hostility of Hidetada, Ieyasu’s son, and his marriage to the daughter of Magome, here called Yuriko (in The Needlewatcher, for example, her name is given as Bikuni).

The first half is, for me, the most convincing. Lund knows and loves the sea and this shines through. He depicts Adams as a well-educated man who finds tolerance after a difficult childhood and who tries to play fair, despite the jealousies of others. When the novel moves to Japan, things fall apart a bit chiefly because of the historical boo-boos, e.g. Hidetada is at Sekigahara when it is one of the best known things about him that he was not (and got a rocket from the old man because he stopped off on the way to defeat an enemy). A bit of a worry is the description of Sekigahara as if Ieyasu had a classic wings formation and won by use of guns (on Adams’ advice) whereas it seems to have been a bit of a mess. Even more bizarre was having these two wings of Ieyasu’s commanded by, of all people, Uesugi Kenshin and Takeda Shingen! Apart from the fact both men had been dead for about 30 years, they were no friends of Ieyasu’s. About the only thing Lund got right was the fact various warlords waited to see which way the battle ran and then deserted to Ieyasu once he seemed to be winning. Other less egregious glitches include the constant misspelling of Japanese names such as ‘bukufu’ for ‘bakufu’, ‘Toyatome’ for ‘Toyotomi’ and even ‘Injin’ for ‘Anjin’, Adams’ best known nickname (‘pilot’).

Like Shogun, it is a bit of a ‘Mary Sue’ story. Adams is just too good. He gives Ieyasu all sorts of advice, not only telling him how to win at Sekigahara but at just about everything else. He also has assorted women who are depicted, on contrast to his flighty English wife, as being only interested in pleasing him. At least Magome’s daughter is not in this mould. She is portrayed as something of an intellectual and a partner to him and not a spaniel. This rather patronising attitude towards women was well and truly grating by then. Certainly, it may be argued that this is correct for the 16^th century but the way the book was written suggested it was a foible of the author’s. After all, The Needlewatcher and similar novels, are free of it.

This is a beautifully even lyrically written fantasy based on a number of Japanese legends or myths, most notably the story of Susanoo and the eight-headed dragon, and the Grass-Cutting Sword of the Imperial regalia (the titular sword of the demon which doesn’t appear until about two-thirds of the way through).

It begins with an androgynous golden figure being pursued by a black sexless figure in infinity, during which chase the first figure gradually becomes a woman named Kishimo who arrives in a woodland. She is saved from a deadly spider (whose appearance harks back to the black pursuer) by a man-god named Aizen (Aizen-myoo, a Buddhist god of love). This is Kishimo’s story as she grows as a person in strength, going from the grim Sea of Mists and a mysterious ship bearing the all-powerful child, Miroku (the bodhisattva to be born in the future), Aizen’s rival, to the Land of Gloom (Yomi, the Shinto underworld) where they are joined by Susano-wu (Susanoo). Each has a quest to fulfil Aizen to seek enlightenment; Kishimo to grow as a person and Susanoo to atone for the shame of losing the ‘Kuzanugi’ sword (ie. Kusanagi, the Grass-Cutting Sword).

Set in no particular era (references are made to samurai and the weaponry is of the feudal era) it has the feel of one of those wonderful children’s tales, such as The Princess and the Goblin, though it is not a children’s story. There are swordfights and battles as well as exotic and strange places. Kishimo is an interesting heroine, warrior as much as anything. Other items from Japanese myth featured include the Tide Turning Jewels and shikimo (here more like tengu rather than ugly women). An unusual and well done type of ‘Japan’ novel.

Not sighted.

A trilogy for children and young adults but like the best of them able to be enjoyed by any age. It tells the tale of Taro, an orphan odd job boy at the Tachibana-ya inn as he and his friends battle the evil of Lord Marishoten, the Jewel Maid and others who attempt to destroy or subvert the land of Idzumo. Set in no particular period it is draws on myths and legends of Japan from the Kojiki, the Nihongi, popular folklore and even The Samurai TV series, blending them skilfully into a witty whimsical epic along the lines of Lloyd Alexander’s Chronicles of Prydain (only he used Wales and Welsh legend). For a detailed discussion see Plum Rain Scroll, Dragon Stone and Peony Lantern

Matsuoka, Takashi, Cloud of Sparrows. New York, Bantam, 2002. ISBN 1863253580

Set in 1861, this story concerns Genji, Lord of Akaoka who is of a family where one in every generation has the gift (or curse) of prophecy and his interaction with a trio of American missionaries who have come to Japan for various reasons not all to do with propagating the faith. This is a time of upheaval with the old order breaking down under pressures brought by foreigners. Genji’s family is out of favour politically and he is being watched by the chief government spy, Kawakami who is jealous of him. His uncle Shigeru, the visionary of his generation, has gone mad and killed his own family. The three missionaries are Genji’s guests at the request of his late grandfather and they have their own problems. Their leader is killed by a ninja’s bullet and of the remaining two, the young woman, Emily, seeks escape from what she has come to see as her cursed beauty in Japan where she is considered ugly, while the man, Stark, is seeking revenge.

This has everything – daimyo, samurai, geisha, ninja, plots, treachery, family secrets, revenge, swordfights, gunfights, gunslingers and cowboys. It’s not surprising it has been optioned as a film. The style is elegant, economical and doesn’t burden you with excessive detail, historical and cultural. Even the people’s physical descriptions are pared down except for Genji and the geisha, Heiko, but there is enough description of places and buildings to bring the scenes to life. It moves along and holds the interest even if afterwards you find yourself querying some things which on reflection appear a little far-fetched such as Stark learning iaido in five minutes because he can quickdraw a gun so should be able to ‘quickdraw’ a sword – and then he defeats even the best samurai of that clan!

There is a strong anti-feudal message, though. Matsuoka does rather overstate it at times. People were only required to prostrate themselves if one of the Gosanke (one of the three shogunal families) passed by, not all lords. As for stopping in one’s tasks when a samurai passed, if one reads Saikaku and others, one gets the impression respect for samurai was rather variable even in the 17^th century never mind the 19^th. On the other hand, if feudalism made Japan something like Gormenghast, the alternative as represented by Shigeru’s visions of the future isn’t a lot better as he sees World War Two, congested modern cities, unhappy-looking people and heavy atmospheric pollution. This gives the book a rather grim subtext.

The ending is somewhat diffuse with the four main characters parting, two to remain in Japan (and fulfil one of Genji’s visions) and two to go to America. Only two of Genji’s three predicted visions have occurred so that there is room for a sequel. The final chapter is a translation by Emily of the secret history of the Akaoka Clan, detailing their origins.

Matsuoka, Takashi, Autumn Bridge. New York, Bantam, 2004. ISBN 1863253661

After a delay of almost a year comes this continuation and expansion of Cloud of Sparrows in which we learn more about the Okumichi family and its visions and the fulfilment of a 600 year old prophecy. The narrative folds and doubles back on itself, sometimes retelling events from the earlier book from another perspective. It jumps around from 1281 to 1953 but mostly between 1311, 1861, 1867 and 1882 which can be a bit irritating.

By 1867, Emily is well into her translation of the Cloud of Sparrows secret history of the Akaoka clan. She discovers a box with an unusual design and starts working on the scrolls within which turn out to be have been written by a Lady Shizuka in 1311 who has the gift of prophecy and indeed seems to exist at all times and able to converse with later Okumichi lords such as Genji’s grandfather and a 16^th century ancestor. Rather more disturbing is the fact Lady Shizuka seems to know all about Emily and later scrolls address her directly.

Interwoven with this are the events of the Restoration in which Genji plays a significant part and her feelings for him. Meanwhile, in San Francisco, Matthew Stark has become a successful businessman with a Japanese wife and an unruly stepson, Makoto.

This is rather different in tone from Cloud of Sparrows which had a lot of action and violence. Its mood is rather mystical and mysterious with a haunting atmosphere, peopled by strong individuals, each with an agenda. The criticism of feudalism is less direct and mainly focuses on the trope of self-sacrificing, totally obedient samurai being a construct of the Tokugawa shogunate. The modern Japanese come in for some stick, too, in the form of the media types who interview one of the characters in 1953 and seem to illustrate another character’s observation that while Japan should change it should not become something it isn’t. An interesting twist is that Genji, who had been at the forefront of modernisation, even furnishing one of his palaces in western style in the late 1860s, prefers to live in the Japanese wing of his residence in the 1890s.

While much is made of Shizuka, his daughter, she doesn’t actually figure much in the story nor do anything. On the other hand, the original Shizuka has some wry and sarcastic comments on the failings of men in general and samurai in particular in her writings. Likewise much is made of plot and counterplot involving Lord Saemon, but again nothing much happens and in the end they work together in the 1880s and beyond with no resolution. Similarly Makoto, after a strong start, also seems to fade away. All this imparts a deamlike quality to the novel.

My only whinge is that in the early 14^th century, far from being centres of power and influence, Edo was a tiny fishing village if it even existed while Kobe was not known by that name. There could be a sequel since there is the missing untranslated scroll and what was so special about Shizuka the younger and what did Makoto do with his life?

Matthews, Andrew, The Way of the Warrior. London, Usborne, 2007 ISBN 978-0746076354

Ten year old Jimmu is summoned one night by his father who tells him he has been falsely accused of treachery by his rival, Lord Ankan, places him in the care of Nichiren, his bodyguard, the commits suicide. Nichiren trains him well in the art of the sword and the spear, all the while telling him his mission in life is to seek out and kill Lord Ankan. So, aged 17, after Nichiren's death, he goes to Lord Ankan's castle and asks to serve him. He begins as a lowly soldier but his skill with a sword, especially when he saves Lord Ankan's daughter from bandits, brings him to the notice of his superiors. His promotion and additional grainiThis one touches on the political ramifications of a samurai's actionsng he believes will bring him closer to Lord Ankan and the fulfilment of his destiny. However, a number of minor things start to make him wonder if Ankan is the monster Nichiren said he was.

This is a well-written young adult book set in the middle of the 18th century and describing a young samurai lad's conflict between what he has always been told by his mentor and what he actually sees which makes it a bit more that the usual 'coming of age' story and Jimmu is a sympathetic character. There are some minor whinges, apart from many of the names - Tokugawa Ieyasu was not the son of a peasant and I rather doubt Takeko or any lady of that time would have been encouraged to flirt in order to capture a rich husband (sounds a but Jane Austen to me). But despite all that, this is a good quick read.

Miyamori, Asataro, Katsuno's Revenge and Other Tales of the Samurai. Mineola, NY, Dover, 2006 ISBN 0486447421

This is a reprint (minus the play "Lady Hosokawa") of Tales of the Samurai and Lady Hosokawa published by Kelly & Walsh in 1920. It has the original colour plates which add to its appeal. There are eight stories in this collection and they are adapted from stories told by traditional storytellers which were based on historical events or characters. All but one of the stories concern samurai and most are set in the 16th century. The titular story is about a samurai woman who takes a rather spectacular revenge on the man who killed her betrothed. It also touches on the political ramifications a samurai's actions could have for his (or her) lord given the complex alliances among the many warlords of the day. Another is about a loyal samurai whose lord thoughtlessly strikes him over a misunderstanding and how a desire for vengeance leads this man to become a learned priest. A third story about a 13 year old samurai boy who was an attendant to the young Ieyasu is reminiscent of those Boys' Own Annual stories of boys in public schools who refuse to rat on a mate no matter what the punishment. In another story, a samurai comes up with a  novel solution to the problem of his lord's death in  battle at the hands of someone who is now supposed to be an ally. Yet another tells the story of the brave and ingenious men who found a way through enemy lines from the besieged castle of Nagashino to seek help. Another deals with the siege of Osaka Castle and the resolution of one of the defending samurai. The final one is about an honest hardworking labourer who demonstrates many samurai qualities. In all, a samurai's loyalty, courage and resourcefulness are stressed as well as the need for flexibility and compassion and commonsense.

The stories are charmingly written and the book is a most enjoyable read.

This is a lively tale of a 16^th century samurai, Tonomori, who becomes a ronin through the treachery of his lord’s son and who intends to take vengeance not only on him (as he also killed his own father in battle) but on the clan’s traditional enemies. He finds himself bodyguard to the Dutch noblewoman, Diana de Edgemont, sent into hiding at a mission in Japan to avoid her enemies. Together with their friends, they travel back first to Portugal, then Spain and finally Holland where they have to deal with the plot of a Spanish noble to deprive Diana of her estate to finance his own plans for power.

This was a good action yarn with just enough historical detail to set it firmly in its era and give local colour and not so much as to wear you down. Of course, there were the usual minor glitches (some of the Japanese names were anachronistic eg. Toriko, or just plain odd. And it was just a tad convenient that Diana’s companion was a ninja and somewhat unlikely that Diana herself would be made a daimyo). But unlike some other more weighty tomes, they didn’t detract from my enjoyment of the story.

More derring-do as Tonomori, Countess Diana, Toriko and Sir Ian foil a plot of the French to put the child, Mary Stuart, on the throne in place of the young Elizabeth. This has lots of action and colourful characters from assassination attempts at Whitehall to skirmishes and single combat on the Scottish borders. A good read, my only whinge is the overuse of modem (American) expletives like "goddam" and the f-word when the Elizabethans had so many inventive and colourful ones of their own.

The ending leads one to expect a sequel, set in the Ottoman Empire, which would be fascinating, pitting a samurai against janissaries. Also, both Diana and Toriko are pregnant to their respective lovers (who don’t know) and Tonomori is still no closer to meting out vengeance on the unworthy Masanori.

Third in the series. Tomomori and Diana go to the Ottoman Empire and face treachery in the Sultan’s palace. Unsighted and apparently quite hard to find.

Not sighted.

Story of a Japanese princess who twice became Empress during the 8^th century. Not sighted.

Religious persecution in Japan, 1661-1673, translated by Kenzoh Yada and Henry P. Ward. Not sighted.

The first of a series for young adults about two late 16^th century ronin, Zenta, older and more worldly, and Matsuzo, younger and new to being a ronin. In this they come to Kyoto to enter service with Oda Nobunaga and become bodyguards to some Portuguese, Pedro and Father Luis, at the suggestion of Nobunaga’s agent. The Portuguese have been harassed by Lord Fujikawa who resents their spreading of Christianity as it has cost him a serving girl. However, Fujikawa turns up dead and the Portuguese are accused. Meantime Lady Yuki, Fujikawa’s daughter and the servant Chiyo complicate matters. Zenta and Matsuzo try to discover Fujikawa’s murderer and run afoul of Nobunaga who is trying to blame the priests of Mt. Hiei.

This is a straightforward lively whodunit with much amusement in the way the two ronin view the Portuguese and vice-versa. There’s double dealing and skullduggery aplenty and Nobunaga appears several times.