BRAIN DRAIN

(Continued from a previous post.)

The other author to have made a name for herself writing mysteries set in Ancient Japan is I. J. Parker, whose protagonist du jour is the clever Sugawara Akitada.

Parker’s stories are set in 11th century Japan, when Heian Kyo (modern-day Kyoto) was the country’s capital. The first of these, The Dragon Scroll, introduces readers to the young Sugawara, an impoverished nobleman occupying a low-ranking position in the Ministry of Justice. In one of his first assignments, he is sent to the province of Kazusa to investigate the matter of missing tax convoys. Upon arriving, however, he is dismayed to realize he had been assigned there ostensibly to whitewash the incident and give the provincial government a rubber stamp of approval; in short, he has been sent there to fail. Yet his underlying sense of duty and knack for getting to the bottom of things work to his advantage as he slowly but surely makes progress, unearthing schemes that are much larger than he could have possibly imagined. Sugawara’s adventures are continued in the sequels Rashomon Gate, where he goes on leave from his ministerial duties in order to investigate purported anomalies at the state university, and later on in Black Arrow, which finds Sugawara assuming the role of governor at the northern border province of Naoetsu.

There is a specific formula that Parker applies to her stories that makes for engaging reading. For one thing, each novel involves not just a single mystery but what quickly evolve into a series of mysteries that, quite naturally, tie into each another. As such, Parker is able to leave readers guessing about the direction the story is taking perhaps much longer than the usual novel, without necessarily throwing in the obligatory red herring. More notably, while Parker sets up Sugawara as her protagonist, it becomes apparent in each story that the detective work is not so much a one-man show as it is a team effort, with Sugawara’s loyal retainers and the other allies he acquires along the way playing key roles.

If there is anything to complain about in Parker’s works, it would be in two areas. First, it is hard not to come to the conclusion that each of the Sugawara Akitada novels are a tad underwhelming for the mystery genre. The singular joy of jumping headfirst in a good mystery is the big reveal; yet in each of her novels, Parker seems to prefer subtlety to drama at the climax of her tales. At best, it may be argued that this is in keeping with the historical setting within which her stories are situated. Second, the Japanese flavor of these tales at times comes across as underplayed, if not incidental. This is only to say, however, that Parker does not seek to bend over backwards to introduce cultural elements to the story where they are not warranted. Granted, to some extent these boil down to a choice of style more than anything else.

Nevertheless, the one area where the author shines is in her ability to write characters with whom readers can empathize. Again, each of the Sugawara Akitada novels is as much about the protagonist — who is deceptively easy to identify with — as it is about the colorful supporting cast, and in setting up each story in this way it is clear that Parker is writing to her strengths. Perhaps this is a manifestation of her skill at short story writing, albeit in an extended format (and it is worth noting that she has written a number of short stories also featuring Sugawara Akitada). As such, each of her books is perhaps less elaborate than the typical novel, but retain the charm and simple elegance of a good short story and are just as engaging. Further, there is a historical note added at the end of each novel that briefly expounds on some of the cultural aspects of the book, demonstrating that good research ultimately makes for compelling reading (especially in fiction).

If Laura Joh Rowland and I. J. Parker are any indication, Japan as a setting for mysteries written in the English language is an idea long overdue. While the two authors have convincingly carved out their respective niches in the area with their irrepressible characters, it is clear that there are many creative possibilities left to be explored for stories along these lines. If these accomplish anything, it will be to remind us that great detectives can be clad in kimonos and topknots, too.

(First of two parts.)

There is something about Japan that manages to inspire the imagination of readers and writers alike. Where fiction is concerned, tales set in the land of the rising sun work best as elaborate stories that explore and demistify the country’s enchanting culture or as thrillers involving sword-wielding samurai. Arthur Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha perhaps exemplifies novels of the former variety while Shogun, by the late James Clavell, arguably stands head and shoulders above those of the latter sort.

Although volumes have been written using the country as their backdrop, mystery is the one genre that people least associate with Japan. It is not difficult to conceive of period pieces set in Japan, nor tales of science fiction, horror and even romance. The whodunit, however, is a different matter altogether.

Fortunately, two highly regarded and capable authors have seen fit to leave their mark in this literary niche. Both have taken the trappings of the usual mystery novel and applied them to a Japan of bygone eras. In so doing, readers are introduced to detectives of an altogether different variety, cast from a mold clad in kimonos and topknots instead of the iconic bowler hats, spyglasses or monocles. Although much has been made of the fact that the two offer characters and stories that are but mirror images of one another, beyond the immediate similarities lie nuances that will appeal to readers of decidedly different persuasions.

First there is Laura Joh Rowland, whose debut novel Shinju was the beginning of a series featuring a new kind of hero-cum-detective in Sano Ichiro. When readers are first introduced to Ichiro, the ronin is beginning his career in Edo’s police force when he is made to investigate a purported ritual double-suicide (shinju) between a lowly artisan and a woman of privilege. Ever inquisitive and observant, he suspects that not all is as it seems and a murder is being covered up. Consequently, his pursuit of justice pits him against a corrupt bureaucracy and Tokugawa-era Japan’s rigid class structure, which casts his future career into doubt. He perseveres, however; and owing to a service rendered to the Shogun ends up promoted to sosokan-sama — the Shogun’s Most Honorable Investigator of Events, Situations and People.

The immediate appeal of the Sano Ichiro series lies in the fact that Japanese culture is front and center in the different crimes that inform each mystery. For instance, in Shinju it is the ritual double-suicide that spurs events into motion, whereas in the immediate sequel, Bundori, assassinations by beheading and the subsequent use of the victim’s heads as war trophies are the crux of the matter. Obviously these are more extreme examples, but even in the finer details Rowland evinces an understanding of the subject she is writing about, and thus Tokugawa Japan and the period’s underlying bushido culture spring to life before readers’ eyes.

There are two problems inherent to Rowland’s style that blemish its overall novelty, though. One, Rowland has a tendency to “over-sell” Ichiro’s finer qualities. Akin to the manner Tom Clancy would build up Jack Ryan as protagonist par excellence, Rowland does the same for Sano Ichiro almost to the point of absurdity. Ichiro is repeatedly depicted as more of an academician than a bureaucrat or keeper of the peace, and much of each novel involves his inner struggle between living up to his ideals on the one hand and honoring obligations borne of familial ties, political association and social mores on the other. Admittedly, this adds an additional layer of complexity to the storyline; however it is implemented quite poorly on the whole. Thankfully, there is a marked improvement in the use of this device between the first and second novels in the series (and one would presume in the remaining installments as well).

The second problem is an even greater matter of taste than the first: Rowland tends to pepper her stories with sexual scenes that are not just explicit but largely unnecessary. Certainly this is not as graphic as some other reading material out there, and should come as no surprise to those familiar with Japanese culture of the late 1600’s. Yet it is doubtful whether such contribute anything to the story that could not have been added in a much more subtle manner. Whether these detract from the enjoyment to be had from Rowland’s work as a whole is something for individual readers to decide.

(To be concluded.)

You would think that a comic book meant to distill superhero comics to their very core would be bland entertainment at best. Low on plot and high on action, you would think that a comic of the sort works better to parody what the genre is all about instead of as a title meant to be taken the least bit seriously. Throw into the mix a set of c-list characters as protagonists, what you would expect to find is a comic book that is not only trivial but one that cannot help but be utterly terrible as well.

Ordinarily, you would be right. Unless the person writing that comic is Warren Ellis. And that comic happens to be Nextwave: Agents of H.A.T.E..

The premise is just too good to pass up: the Beyond Corporation’s Highest Anti-Terrorism Effort (H.A.T.E.) assembles the Nextwave squad, a cadre of second-tier superheroes whose sole purpose is to combat weapons of mass destruction being deployed on American shores. Yet things unravel when Nextwave learns that H.A.T.E. and the Beyond Corporation are themselves terrorist fronts. As a consequence, the squad go rogue in a bid to foil the machinations of their former employers.

What sets Nextwave apart is the simple fact that Ellis does only as much to develop the plot as is necessary to advance the story — and makes no apologies doing so. The result is a barebones superhero tale taken to the extreme, with story arcs that conveniently resolve themselves every two issues. At a minimum, yes, Nextwave is widescreen comics writ large as only Ellis can pen it, chock full of unabashedly over the top action more or less within good taste. But at its best it also works as a satire of superhero comics in general and Marvel comics in particular, with the added bonus that its sensibilities and humor — ah, the humor! — are just spot on. Further, Stuart Immonen’s cartoonish artwork complements Ellis’s little tongue-in-cheek experiment by reminding us all that, at the end of the day, this is nothing more (or less), than a comic book. How else are we supposed to take a book whose first chapter begins with the description Nextwave: Healing America by Beating People Up?

Nextwave: Agents of H.A.T.E. is surprisingly entertaining, and it is a shame that it ran for only twelve issues. The first six of these have already been collected in one volume, This is What They Want. A second volume collecting the remaining installments, I Kick Your Face, is slated for release in July 2007.

I’ve been struggling for the past few weeks to develop an opinion on Sonic and the Secret Rings. For the life of me, I can’t quite decide whether the Wii title is some kind of awful or deviously mad fun.

The fact of the matter is that the Sonic franchise has seen better days since its first installment on the Sega Genesis. With the bar having been set so low in recent years, Secret Rings has a lot to live down, which it actually does with yet another contrived storyline that involves the mythos of the Arabian Nights. To overcome this, however, the game makes full use of the Wii’s functionality by allowing players to “drive” Sonic as he rockets through the various stages. For Secret Rings, players hold the Wiimote horizontally, akin to the NES and Famicom controllers of old, and “steer” a perpetually forward-moving Sonic by tilting the controller left and right. The controller’s buttons are used for braking, sliding and jumping, while a quick shake of the controller while Sonic is in mid-air unleashes a homing attack to lay down a beating on the various enemies that are encountered along the way.

For all the promise that Secret Rings embodies, it comes with a learning curve that tends to make gameplay frustrating and tedious, not to mention rather repetitive. At the heart of the issue is how the game is designed: Sonic acquires new skills the more “experience” players obtain, and new stages and unlockables are revealed as more skills are obtained and old stages are completed. As a consequence, getting started with the game can be a very painful experience as Sonic is extremely unwieldy to control without the appropriate set of skills at his disposal, which naturally makes certain stage obstacles nigh insurmountable. Of course, it is possible to overcome this difficulty by clocking in the requisite hours to obtain the necessary experience and acclimatize oneself to the initially available stages. The problem with doing so is that certain stage elements, such as sudden perspective changes, can make this a chore, and gameplay quickly regresses to a matter of doing the exact same thing in the exact same stage in the exact same way in order to make some progress. And don’t get me started on the game’s patently faux-rock theme song.

Despite all this, I have found it extremely difficult of late to keep from taking the game for a whirl.

Given its shortcomings, Sonic and the Secret Rings becomes an altogether different game as more and more of Sonic’s skills are unlocked, typically after the fourth set of stages become available to play through. Along with skills that make the hedgehog’s lateral and airborne movements easier to control, obtaining the twin abilities of performing a “speed break” to accelerate at dizzying speeds on the one hand and a “time break” to slow down time on the other breathes new life to the task of playing through stages. It is almost as if the developers really intended the game to be enjoyed with this “superpowered” version of Sonic instead of the “plain vanilla” one players are initially introduced to, with the latter being incorporated into the game more as an afterthought given that it would take some time to get used to the character’s various abilities.

Overall, there is no question that Sonic and the Secret Rings could have been a much better game. If one can momentarily overlook the things that the game gets wrong — and there are several — it becomes easy to surrender to the one thing that the game does get right: the overwhelming sense of speed that makes Sonic the Hedgehog such an irresistible character. On balance, it is not a game that will endear itself to novices, nor is it of the type one can (or should) play for hours on end. Rather, it is best enjoyed in small doses and over short bursts. Thankfully, with a character than can zip through stages at supersonic speed, very little is lost in the process.

A year ago today I began this blog at Blogger and thought I’d keep at it for all of three days. I’m glad to see I’ve exceeded my own expectations.

When I first started the blog I hoped it would be a means for people to keep tabs with what I was up to, seeing how I’d get bombarded with the same set of questions whenever I’d bump into friends or they’d drop me a line. But that “purpose” promptly got thrown out the window as the same people would ask me the same questions even after I had told them about the blog. So I decided to shift gears and turn Brain Drain into a pesonal column of sorts, and have tried to write accordingly.

I can’t help rambling, though. But I’m working on it.

Of course, there are days when I feel that blogging is an exercise in futility. I’m not doing anything particularly interesting with my life that would be worth reading, I write reviews of things that aren’t exactly new, and I feature things I find on the net that get to people faster by word of mouth than by word-of-blog. And then there is a matter of readership: on balance, I’m pretty convinced that the folks who regularly visit the blog number only about ten. As painful to my overblown sense of importance as that might be, I’m very happy to have you and hope you continue to find the ride entertaining.

Whenever that feeling of futility begins to overwhelm me, my conscience (you know who you are!) brings me back in line by asking who I’m writing for anyway. Viewed from that lens, I suppose there’s nothing to complain about. The blog is my outlet: it gives me something to do and ultimately keeps my meager writing skills a little less dull. Also, while it’s been suggested that I’d probably snag a few more readers by limiting the blog’s focus, I just can’t bring myself to do that. I think things are more interesting this way. Again: at the end of the day, I’m writing for me.

I was hoping to “celebrate” the first year anniversary of Brain Drain by showing off my current repertoire of html tricks and doing something really snazzy with the site’s look and layout. Instead, all I ended up doing was setting up this WordPress account, falling short of migrating the blog here wholesale. Hence, for the past few weeks I’ve been cross-posting and maintaining the same content over at both sites, which perhaps makes me one of the few people in the world ignored multiple times on the interweb.

Ah, me.

So here’s to the 365 days of blogging that were, and to the many more ahead. May they prove to be as interesting, if not more so. And if for some reason I fail to post anything new in the near future, I beg my ten loyal readers not to dismay: I won’t give up that easily.

Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World skyrocketed Haruki Murakami to fame outside Japan, and with good reason. On one level, it is a thriller that straddles the fine line between contemporary fiction and science fiction/fantasy. On another, it is an existential treatise that explores such topics as life, consciousness, and immortality. That and it is peppered with enough of the weirdness characteristic of Japanese fiction to make it entertaining, intriguing, occasionally predictable and perhaps ultimately bittersweet. In short, it is as good a read as one can find out there right now, as difficult to describe as it is enjoyable.

On the left, the cover image to the original publication of Flight Volume One, by series editor Kazu Kibuishi. On the right, Kazu’s reworking of the same image for the book’s re-release. It’s interesting how the latter is at once the same and very different from its predecessor.

I neglected to mention in my prior post on Flight that the series was first published under the banner of Image Comics. However, with the third volume onwards the title has moved over to Random House, initially under Ballantine Books and thereafter under the Villard imprint. Now that Villard will begin releasing the first two volumes of Flight as well, Kazu revisited the cover to the first one to give it the same look as that of later installments, obviously with amazing results.

The reissue will be available come April, for which Amazon is already accepting orders. The world’s largest bookseller also has the original cover still in stock, which should be good news to the purists out there.

Spring break is upon me, and it couldn’t have happened sooner. Off the top of my head, the things I have to do over the next ten days include:

Unless it becomes painfully apparent that any of these things can best be done by the sea on some glorious beach, I sincerely doubt anyone will find me as a nameless gyrating extra on MTV Spring Break: Cancun.

Right. As if that would ever happen!

Who hasn’t seen Star Wars without wanting a lightsaber? As these guys demonstrate, in the Youtube era all it takes to make this fantasy a reality is a bit of technological know-how and a lot of imagination. And yes, the cheesy acting is part of the charm:

Even better, the sequel:

It would seem that these guys have been at it for quite a while, and more information about the video and their exploits can readily be obtained from RyanvsDorkman.com. Now if only it were as easy to get one’s hands on a real lightsaber.

Growing up, I thought I’d seen every possible variation of the school fundraiser. Yearbook drives, bake sales, raffles and bingo socials, just to name a few, were the usual fare whenever the school I happened to be attending needed the cash for some project or another.

Apparently, when you’re the child of a world-class animator, things are so much more interesting.

At his daughter’s school, The Astonish Factory’s Mike Kunkel decided to contribute an illustrated book for a fundraising auction. The difference, however, is that the book that he’ll be illustrating will feature the different kids in his daughter’s class playing their favorite sport and with their favorite animal.

Now isn’t that sweet?

Mike has stated that he’ll be posting the finished “Kids in the Class” illustrations in separate entries at his blog over the next couple of weeks, and what he’s put together so far look awesome. Personally, I was stoked just reading about the project. I can just imagine how excited the kids are.