Back in June, 2016 I fell a little bit in love – with a book. I was able to read The Decagon House Murders (1987) due to the efforts of three men: author Yukito Ayatsuji, scholar and translator Ho-Ling Wong, and Locked Room Internationalpublisher John Pugmire. I was a fresh-off-the-farm blogger and had never heard of Japan’s honkaku mystery movement. Only a few other Japanese titles had been translated up till then, but this was the title that sparked a new craze among the English. I adored the book’s tricky plot and multiple homages to Christie, Carr and the rest of the Golden Age tribe. 

What began as a trickle turned into a publishing landslide, thanks to John, to translators like Ho-Ling, and to small presses like LRI and Pushkin Vertigo. As much as I enjoyed those first titles (Decagon, The Moai Island Puzzle, The Honjin Murders), I think what really won me over was the very idea that classic mystery fiction, while remaining a niche taste within the American public (although the niche has spread into a nrash over the past several years), is very much the thing in Japan. There were no mystery clubs at my university, no posh gatherings where all the cool kids and future best-selling authors could hang together, worshipping Ellery Queen and discussing what a masterpiece The Tragedy of X is. (They like The Tragedy of X, people!!!!)

Over the past nine years, my honkaku collection has grown, but , alas, so too, have my doubts.  Of course, not every title can be a banger, but lately I’ve been feeling a haunting sense of disillusionment, much like the atmosphere on Gokumon Island. Speaking of which . . . a lot of the blame can be laid at the late feet of Seishi Yokomizo, whose Kosuke Kindaichi series has become something of a mixed bag. The historical aspects of those post-war books are always fascinating, and Kindaichi himself is a memorable, if sometimes irritating fellow. The mysteries themselves, however, have started to let me down. At least, that was the case with the most recent arrivals, The Devil’s Flute Murders and The Little Sparrow Murders. 

I have had more luck with modern-day shin honkaku authors – those hybrid horror-mysteries seem promising – but even Ayatsuji disappointed me with the follow-up title in his “Bizarre House/Mansion” series, The Mill House Murders. Still, I had heard rumors that the next book, The Labyrinth House Murders, was much better, which is why I snapped it up when it was published last fall. And yet, even after my pal and fellow blogger, John Harrison reviewed this one all the way back in November, I sat on my hands and the book stayed on the shelf . . . 

. . . until a week ago, when I really felt in the mood for Japanese. And then, halfway through reading the book, I discovered that my buddy JJ had had the same idea over at The Invisible Event. He wrote about this book a few days ago, and while I had to forego reading it until I myself had finished the book, a brief glimpse at JJ’s review hinted that Labyrinth might not be the cure for what’s ailing me when it comes to honkaku.  

So let me say this: this now is lots better than The Mill House Murders, and for a while the premise really got me going. It presents a world largely akin to my fantasy, where everyone not only loves GAD mysteries but talks the talk even in the most casual of situations. A world where people know the difference between a “closed circle” and a “locked room!” And for a while, when it seemed like the plot was heading in the direction of a sort of Arabian Nights of crime fiction, I thought that my romance with honkaku was back on track. 

Our detective-hero, Shimada Kiyoshi, has made it his purpose to explore the secrets behind the dangerous architecture of the late Nakamura Seiji, who reveled in the building of elaborate, trick-laden death-traps before his untimely demise in one of his own houses. (If there really is an overarching mystery connected to this series of books, I’ll lay you odds, right here and now, that Nakamura is not dead!!!) After solving the dastardly crimes connected with the Decagon and Mill Houses, Shimada has tracked down the owner of another Nakamura dwelling, the Labyrinth House, which is inspired by the myth of Theseus and of the huge maze built by King Minos and guarded over by the half man, half bull monster known as the Minotaur. 

According to superstition, labyrinths are structures meant to protect their creators from evil, but in the world of honkaku, good luck is in short supply! Suffice it to say, the house is the scene of a series of horrific murders, a fact that is made known to us at the novel’s beginning because it has inspired a pseudonymous author to write a “fictionalized” account of the case and to send a copy of their book to Shimada in order to garner his opinion. Thus, the bulk of the book we hold in our hands is the novel-within-a-novel, and it tells the story of the house’s owner, famed mystery author Miyagaki Yotaro, who is about to celebrate his 60^th birthday with a weekend gathering that includes five of Miyagaki’s proteges, four of whom have become successful mystery writers and the fifth a top critic in the genre. Also present are Miyagaki’s editor. the editor’s wife, a secretary, a housekeeper, and a special guest – mystery fan and Nakamura obsessive, Shimada Kiyoshi. 

Soon after everyone arrives, the secretary breaks some horrible news to the guests: due to ill-health, Miyagaki has committed suicide. But he has left behind a most unusual video will: he gives the four younger writers five days to write a fifty-page mystery story. Each tale must be set in Labyrinth House and include a murder; what’s more, the chosen victim must be the tale’s author. Once the stories are finished, they will be read and judged by the editor, the critic and Shimada the fan, with the winner receiving half of Miyagaki’s considerable fortune. 

This is a terrific set-up! How I wish we had had a chance to read those four stories and really see what Ayatsuji could do with different styles of writing and a potential variety of classic tropes. But the plot quickly veers into bloodier territory, and I will say this: if Decagon House was inspired by Christie and Mill House by Carr, this book is a clear homage to Ellery Queen. Each murder is truly bizarre – real Period One Queen territory – and includes elements of The Egyptian Cross Mystery, The Tragedy of X, and any novel that incorporates one of Queen’s favorite tropes – the dying message. There’s also a locked room mystery, the solution of which is going to disappoint all fans of Carr and his ilk, much like those aspects of Queen’s The King Is Dead did for many.

There is atmosphere aplenty, and although most of the characters die before you can tell them apart from each other, here we find some genuine feeling for once, due to the loving relationship between the editor and his wife. Unfortunately, the novel-within-a-novel does not end well, at least for this mystery fan: the various little clues that lead to the unmasking of the killer are fine, but the actual solution is all too “meh.” 

And then we get an epilogue, and everything is much improved – except it leads to an issue of fair play between author and reader that I can’t get into here. Ho-Ling Wong, whose translation is really wonderful, had many challenges ahead of him due to the nature of the book’s trickery, and I think he translated those tricks into English as well as anybody could. But there are simply things that this poor English speaker could not have known which make solving the case next-to-impossible. (How I want to sit down right now with Ho-Ling and have a long conversation about how he would deal with the translation issues stemming from several of my favorite Christie novels.)

Ultimately, I rank this one below Decagon, Arisugawa’s Moai Island Puzzle, or Yokomizo’s Inugami Curse, but better than the last few titles I’ve read. And believe me when I say I’m pleased that Pushkin Vertigo is pressing forward with bringing more bizarre mansions to us. They’re actually skipping the next title in the series, The Doll Mansion Murders; perhaps it isn’t as easily translatable, but rumor has it that the story isn’t very good. The Clock Mansion Murders, due out later this year, is supposed to be one of the best. And there are more and more other authors starting to appear: Taku Ashibe’s Murder in the House of Omari, due out in July, is said to be an epic family mystery spanning half of the 20^th century. And, yes – sigh! – the latest Kindaichi case, Murder at the Black Cat Café, is coming in September. And there are whispers of many more.

I guess I will remain ever hopeful . . .