Often when reading narratives that decide to play with time, jumping back and forth without warning, I wonder if the book would hold up as well if it were rearranged in chronological order.
There’s a tenderness within Gazdanov that seems to recall Carson McCullers or Anne Tyler
Themes of security, honour, obligation and voyeurism converge into something enticing and engaging under Togawa’s pen.
Lies fill rooms like smoke, choking and confusing the inhabitants while the truth slips out unnoticed, its remnants pushed into tall corners by the spreading fumes until nothing is distinguishable from the dark.
The Judge and His Hangman could be devoured in a single sitting, its haunting contents continuing to unspool for days after the backcover folds over.
A modern Japanese murder mystery with a jaded worldview in need of urgent investigation.