The Meiji Guillotine Murders is set in the early years of the Meiji Restoration. Author Yamada, who is also known for his ninja stories that formed the bedrock of modern shonen, draws a vivid picture of a nation in the throes of change. The same government that cried “Revere the Emperor! Expel the Barbarians!” is now devouring Western ideals with a grin, the mighty bureaucracy is growing by leaps and bounds, and new modern housing and technology sits alongside rickshaws. Some things remain the same. The new government is filled with incompetence, graft, and corruption. Radical assassins target government officials. Corrupt rasotsu, the police, bully and exploit the common man for what little he has. Into this comes Keishiro Kazuki and Toshiyoshi Kawaji, chief inspectors who are part of the newly formed Imperial Prosecuting Office. Kawaji is a strict, law-abiding man, while Kazuki makes everything sound like “an incantation” and has “something uncanny about him. His subordinates feared him, and even his peers were known to feel uneasy in his presence.” Together, they intend to see justice done. But there are two other characters we have to meet.
One is Esmeralda Sanson, a beautiful young woman who lives with Kazuki, who happens to be “the ninth generation of Parisian executioners.” She’s also a miko who can communicate with the dead, an ability which will be vital in resolving the various mysteries. And then there’s the guillotine itself. “A grim specter,” “the most painless kind of death known to men.” Yamada’s introduction of the guillotine is powerful and chilling, and it loom over the narrative, casting a bloody shadow on the various stories.
Meiji Guillotine is a rarity in the mystery genre: the interlinked short story collection. The plots of the stories are mostly disconnected from each other, but the stories themselves are more like long chapters in a novel, with characters recurring from story to story. It’s a bit tricky for me to discuss them in detail since the actual mysteries are introduced late. The first two stories, “The Chief Inspectorate of the Imperial Prosecuting Office” and “Esmeralda the Miko” are just dedicated to introducing the setting and characters. Even when we get to the actual mysteries, there’s a lot of build-up, then almost no page time between the discovery of the murder and the explanation.
I found the stories to be engaging, but Yamada fairly bludgeons the reader with names and events that might not mean much. Here I feel that my lack of knowledge of the Meiji era worked against me; I couldn’t tell how many of these characters were actual historical figures and who was made up for the book. It’s like if a murder mystery set during the first Washington administration was translated into Japanese; most of the audience isn’t going to know what’s historical and what’s fictional. It didn’t ruin the book or anything, but I think it’s worth noting.
The mysteries are all quite good. I won’t go into detail about the plots, but I’ll mention the hooks. “A Strange Incident at the Tsukiji Hotel” has a man sliced in half at the titular hotel. The image of the murder is funny but also very ingenious. “From America With Love” will likely be the highlight for impossible crime fans, as a ghostly rickshaw dumps a body in the river…and while the rickshaw itself leaves tracks, there are no footprints of the person who had to have carried it. Once again, the solution is funny to picture but it’s also a picture that snaps right into place when Esmeralda explains it. “The Hanged Man at the Eitai Bridge” is an alibi problem: Two men had very good reason to hang the victim from the titular bridge, but neither of them had the opportunity to do so and then make it to where they were found. Yamada’s explanation takes advantage of the time period and is grotesque to boot.
“Eyes and Legs” opens with the characters witnessing a bizarre gathering from a newfangled invention, the binoculars. Later, a geisha is kidnapped and her severed leg turns up in a rickshaw. The explanation for what’s going on is a bit obvious, but this is still a well-constructed story. “The Corpse That Cradled Its Own Head” has a decapitated corpse covered in human waste. This one is simpler, but still good, although one part—the most clever part—isn’t explained until the last story…but ah. I will leave that final story for the interested reader. All I will say is that it wraps the book up very well, with a revelation that almost left me laughing in glee.
I admit, I would not necessarily recommend The Meiji Guillotine Murders as a murder mystery per se. I like the mysteries, and the solutions are great, but there’s little in the way of careful, logical detection. There are clues, but they rarely feature in the explanation. This is more interesting as a historical mystery novel, immersing the reader in a very unfamiliar time and place. In that sense, I really liked it. Of course, the ingenious crimes are a great selling point as well, but I wouldn’t want the reader to get the wrong idea.
For those of you who have bounced off other honkaku/shin-honkaku works, this might be different enough to get your attention. Highly Recommended.
Other Reviews: The Case Files of Ho-Ling, Beneath the Stains of Time.
*I did not think this, since “this slaps” was not slang at the time.
**He did not do this, since Ho-Ling is a professional.
***This time I am saying it, as the review shows.
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