Occupied City [ペーパーバック]

In this heart-thumping experimental novel which bursts the bounds of the usual genre categories, British author David Peace creates an impressionistic story of a real Tokyo bank robbery and the deaths of twelve bank employees on January 26, 1948. A man representing himself as a doctor investigating a case of potentially fatal dysentery in the neighborhood appears at the Shiina-Machi branch of the Teikoku Bank, saying he must inoculate all the employees in the bank against this disease. Two minutes after receiving the medication, sixteen victims, writhing in agony, have fallen unconscious, and twelve of them die, poisoned with cyanide. The physician then removes the day's receipts and disappears.

As detectives investigate those who might have had access to cyanide, they pursue an artist who uses cyanide in making tempura paints-a man who already has a history of fraud. The man is arrested and jailed, though a witness has stated unequivocally that he is not the killer. Further investigation of this crime involves a wide-ranging study of Japan's use of biological warfare in Manchuria, before and during World War II. Cyanide was the subject of much research and experimentation there by the Japanese Pingfan Army Unit 731, the chemical lab unit, and any one of the Pingfan soldiers could have committed these murders. Further investigation suggests that officials from all sides have colluded in a coverup of biological weapons programs.

The author uses a Rashomon-like structure for the novel, featuring twelve different narrators, each of whom, illuminated by a candle, tells his own story regarding the bank robbery and then blows out his candle, creating a darker and darker atmosphere until the final narrator leaves the participants in the dark--at the edge of the abyss. The individual testimonies build a complete archival record of the real story, which attests to the author's comprehensive research during the many years he lived in Tokyo. Despite the full background material, however, the novel is by no means straightforward or journalistic. Instead, the author creates swirling images of the Occupation of Japan, developing kaleidoscopic impressions which change at warp speed.

The novel's pace is driven by its language, which twists and turns in upon itself, echoes, and repeats, more like music than prose in style and emotional intensity. Sometimes the novel feels like a long canon, or "round," while at other times one can only think of a grand operatic chorus. Sometimes four or five different speakers reveal information simultaneously (often within the same sentence). Each speaks as if in a soliloquy, talking over the other characters and interrupting their sentences to include their own thoughts. It is a uniquely powerful technique which requires the reader's "willing suspension of literary expectations," and it can be both exhilarating and challenging. The author does not always distinguish between his real people and his ghostly shadows, and often a reader may be unsure who is speaking during these long "canons." The cumulative effect of this complex and artificial technique may frustrate those who are just looking for a good mystery but will delight those who enjoy the imaginative approach and a broad thematic scope. Mary Whipple

Those who are familiar with the work of David Peace, particularly TOKYO YEAR ZERO, are forewarned to expect the unexpected. Peace's latest book, OCCUPIED CITY, is no exception. While not a sequel to the 2007 novel, it certainly continues some of those themes. Tokyo is totally if uneasily occupied by American forces in 1948; the focus of the title, however, is on a mass murderer who arises from the indigenous population to wreak havoc, if briefly, upon the populace.

OCCUPIED CITY is based on a real-world occurrence that took place in post-war Tokyo. A man who identified himself as a physician attached to the national government entered a bank at closing time and announced that it had been exposed to a contaminant. He proceeded to administer an antidote to the bank employees and customers who were present. The antidote was in fact a fast-acting poison that killed 12 people. A suspect was quickly apprehended, tried and convicted of the crime. Although he died in prison, appeals to clear his name continue to the present.

What Peace does is present the prism of the incident and its aftermath from a number of points of view over the course of 12 chapters, or "candles." These range from the murdered victims whose collective consciousness --- caught between life and death --- give voice to a haunting, unforgettable chorus to a survivor who feels guilt and a quiet madness in which nothing will ever be as it seems again. Yet another candle consists of the case file of the murder investigation, which reflects the notes of a detective who ultimately helps crack the case but who may be relying too much on instinct and supposition. The accused murderer is also heard from. Some of the most chilling candles, though, concern Japan's biological warfare program, composed by one charged with investigating it --- and possibly falling victim to it --- and another who may have contributed to its creation.

OCCUPIED CITY is a difficult work that is somewhat dense in spots. One could quite reasonably be forgiven for questioning the utility of some of Peace's narrative, which is (overly) repetitive in places and obtuse in others. Yet, by the time one reaches the conclusion, it feels as if a quantum perception shift has been achieved, which, perhaps, was the author's intent all along. I was reminded to some degree of THE BRIDGE AT SAN LUIS REY by Thornton Wilder and (to a greater extent) THE ALEXANDRIA QUARTET by Lawrence Durrell, though in the end I would have to conclude that OCCUPIED CITY stands on the shoulders of those books, if unsteadily so. It is a work designed more to be sipped than swallowed, more to be nibbled a few pages at a time than devoured.

--- Reviewed by Joe Hartlaub

Others have reviewed the content of this book, I will not go into details. The story is highly pertinent and feels terribly relevant in today's world. The lies, the deceit, the helplessness of ordinary citizens ... all that is captured well. This is literature, or at the very least a valiant literary effort far beyond the average crime novel.

I am European and have studied Japanese and Japanese literature. Knowing the works Peace himself refers to in the acknowledgments helps a lot in understanding the structure of this book. From the very beginning, one feels reminded of Soseki & Co. "Konna yume-wo mita ...". The First Night ...

Peace uses the instruments of Japanese dream and crime fiction of the turn of the century, such as ellipsis, repetition, etc.; many of which are still very much present in modern Japanese works. He does so with aplomb, and only rarely stumbles.

The problem with this approach in an English novel is that many of the tools of Japanese fiction are by definition extensions of the Japanese language. They only work to their full effect in Japanese. Whole chapters full of ellipses are normal in Japanese, where even in ordinary speech sentences are very often incomplete, where, in fact, incompleteness is a sign of high style, of literacy. The same style in English sounds highly contrived. Incomplete statements in Japanese are often completed by the context, or the context of similar statements in other situations. That is completely lost in English. The endless repetitions are unoffensive in Japanese, where poetic style has always been part of ordinary prose, and prose itself, one may say, does not exist as separate from poetry as it does in English. Thus the tools of Japanese writing in an English novels often feel too alien, too out of place, and hard to grasp. I imagine this is even worse for the reader unfamiliar with the Japanese background.

Peace's use of Japanese style elements in English is often incongruous, and in many places simply not proficient enough, as if he lacked a full grasp of the literature he is emulating. The novel translated back into Japanese, which I have done for some parts as an exercise in literary criticism, feels almost childishly simplistic.

Even so, it is a great effort. This is the work of a good crime writer who tried something different, something really difficult: the transposition of a literary genre and style into another language. If he failed to do so perfectly, it is still a very convincing effort.