Michael Pronko's Blog, page 13
May 24, 2017
Five Star Review Literary Titan
https://literarytitan.com/2017/05/22/the-last-train-a-tokyo-thriller/
The Last Train: A Tokyo Thriller
Posted by Literary Titan
Michael Pronko is a scholar and an on Japanese culture. He is also an excellent story teller that captivates readers and takes them on an adventure through his words. The Last Train is set in Tokyo, and even if you have never been to Tokyo, don’t worry, Pronko draws you into the life there. His attention to detail is not limited to the scenery, but the customs and mannerisms that make up the Japanese’s culture. There is extensive time devoted explaining the life and world revolving around the hostess clubs, not sex clubs, rather clubs where men go to find a woman to entertain them for a period of time, while drinking and getting their ego stroked. It is within this society of hostess clubs that murder mystery is flushed out. A killer, targeting foreign investors is using the trains as her weapon of choice.
The story revolves around Michiko Suzuki and the team of detectives that are investigating the train murders. Michiko is the daughter of a factory owner whose mother died when she was young. She was raised by her father and his workers. She learned early that business is not always neat and clean, and that sometimes getting their hands dirty and making backdoor deals is the norm there. As Pronko tells Suzuki’s story he alternates between current events and her memories of the past, telling how she got to where she is, and how she has picked her victims. The main detectives investigating are Hiroshi and Takamatsu. Hiroshi is an accountant that due to spending part of his life in America is fluent in English so he works white collar crimes for the police. Takamatsu is a homicide detective that pulls together his own dream team to work on this case. Their case takes a high profile turn and soon they’re dodging politics as well the cultural need to keep everything neat and tidy. Michiko tries to keep her activities low key but when several of her victims survive her plot, things get messy for her and the police.
One of the most fascinating things about this novel is not the mystery aspect. The murder is not a secret from the beginning. What is a mystery is why she is killing people, figuring out what drove her to this life. Hiroshi is a complex character as well, and his dynamic interactions throughout the investigations add to the plot as well as provide an unique look at the culture. Even though he is from Tokyo, spending time in America gave him a different perspective on the way things are done; whereas Takamatsu comes off as the typical Japanese man. They make an interesting and effective partnership. Having the diverse views interacting with witnesses and other characters makes for a dynamic story line, it is diverse and provides multiple views from different cultural perspectives. Much of the story takes place in Roppongi, here you see all the varieties of hostess clubs, the basic lounge style, mud wrestling, nude women, and the high-end invite only David’s Lounge. Each club gives readers a different taste of the culture.
Overall The Last Train by Michael Pronko is a well written and enticing look into the culture of Tokyo. The story behind Michiko Suzuki is compelling and engaging, you can’t help flipping the pages to see what she is going to do next and find out why her victims were chosen. Hiroshi connects well with everyone he interacts with so there is an emotional response from the reader. Pronko uses emotion, mystery and attention to detail to keep the reader engaged and wanting more. I look forward to seeing more from Pronko and hope he has more stories to tell with Hiroshi.
Pages: 348 | ASIN: B071DPXP7M
Interview on Patrick Sherriff’s great site
Tokyo professor turns to crime: An interview with Michael Pronko
Posted on May 24, 2017 by Patrick Sherriff
Michael Pronko contemplates a life of crime-writing.
You might have heard of Michael Pronko, the award-winning Tokyo essayist. Or maybe Pronko, the social commentator on Japanese culture for NHK, Nippon Television, Newsweek Japan, The Japan Times and Artscape Japan. Possibly, you know Pronko, the American Literature and Culture professor at Meiji Gakuin University in Tokyo. But do you know Pronko, the crime novelist? I was lucky enough to spend last weekend interrogating him by email before the release of his first novel, The Last Train, on May 31st.
Patrick Sherriff: How did you come to write Japan crime novels? I think you are better known as an essayist, certainly that’s how I came across your name.
Michael Pronko: Actually, I “came back” to writing novels. Outside of school assignments, all I wrote when I was young was fiction. I just didn’t publish it. And then just when I started to get things published, about twenty years ago, I got a couple of great gigs writing essays, reviews, and journalism, so I went with that. And then I got more offers, so I kept going. In a way, I can’t think of any better way to learn how to write than having a lot of deadlines for small-form writing. At one point, I had seven deadlines a month. But, I felt that I was always painting miniatures, and sort of disconnected ones. So, I wanted to work on a mural, or at least a bigger canvas, with more motion and fluidity and interconnection. Fiction also lets you work with different points of view, different characters, and to engage with a broader set of conflicts. Essays tend to stay within your own personal opinion. I love both novels and essays, and there’s great overlap between the two. I’ll go back to essays again after the Hiroshi series is finished, or even before.
Yes, the discipline that doing journalism instills is invaluable for any writer. Also, I think Jake Adelstein said that writing at speed in a newsroom environment where your words are looked over by benches of editors before they go public (this was back in the days when papers had staff) quickly cures you of being precious about having your stuff critiqued by others. And I agree, there are limits to what you can achieve with journalism alone. As Alain de Botton says, trying to understand the complex world around us with soundbites and headlines is like trying to understand a Tolstoy novel one shouted sentence at a time.
And working with editors, especially under time pressure, helps to internalize that editing function. It’s just easier to edit it yourself at the end of your drafting rather than having to listen to an editor nitpick with you on the phone at ten at night. Anything to shut them up and get the piece over with and get to a beer! The carefulness and constraint editors enforce make you realize you’re nothing special as a writer. It takes your ego down to a manageable level so you don’t have to stumble over it all the time.
Hah! Anyway, Is there really enough conflict to explore in homogenous Japan to fill a crime novel, let alone a series?
It’s true it would be hard to write a novel about bicycle theft, which is the most common crime in Japan a policeman informed me one time when he stopped me to check my registration. But then again, bicycle theft is probably a profitable little crime niche. Japan looks neat, clean and safe at one level, but if you dig deeper there’s lots of problems. Lots. Everyone seems to conform to the cultural harmony and unity, but Japanese have the same internal conflicts—and passions—as everyone else on the planet. At one level, Japanese are very group-oriented, but as individuals they still want to act freely and express themselves. That can lead to conflict and conflict leads to crime. Social problems often get glossed over in Japan, but that doesn’t stop them from being horrifying ordeals for whoever runs into them. Conflicts may not be as open and obvious, but they’re just as serious. And maybe more serious for having festered under the suppressing pressure of homogeneity.
I finished The Last Train last night (your third crime novel?) and thoroughly enjoyed it. It’s said that the strength of a mystery/thriller is directly related to the strength of the villain. And your villain, Michiko, is perhaps the best aspect of The Last Train . Tell me more about her character and internal conflicts. How did you come up with her?
That’s great you enjoyed it! Actually, it’s my first published novel. The other two are still being edited and polished. I finished all three first to see how they would go together. I wanted to know more about the series and the characters before I published the first one.
You can thank Prime Minister Shinzo Abe for Michiko! His plan for “womenomics” to bring women into society was a nice idea, but never followed with genuine action. So, I thought, “OK, you want womenomics, I’ll give you womenomics.” What if a woman started taking things under control herself? Like men do? In a country like Japan, which ranks 111th out of 144 in global gender inequality? Michiko does everything on her own. She exhibits traditional masculine virtues and strengths. She’s not soft or servile. She knows what she wants and learns whatever she needs, to do whatever she wants. At the same time, she’s also obsessed with clothes, a dutiful daughter, retires to her childhood bedroom, so she also encapsulates a bit of what’s supposed to be feminine. You can read her from several angles, or at least I do. Underneath all that drive forward in powerful ways she has this lingering desire for revenge. Whether that revenge is justified is up to readers.
You write convincing Japanese characters. I sometimes struggle with the idea of cultural appropriation, that as a white, middle-aged man myself, I have no place writing young, female Japanese characters. What’s your take on cultural appropriation?
My seminars are filled with mostly young, female Japanese students. That isn’t to say I know what they’re thinking better than they do—to say that would be cultural appropriation. Mostly, frankly, I’m clueless what they’re feeling. But I always ask them stuff and have listened to what they say for twenty-some years, not only about the novels or films inside classes, but about their job hunts, life problems and whatever small part of their experience they share with me. None of them are like Michiko, though!
Writing depends on a lifelong acquisition of that kind of input from people. For me, that’s interesting. If you didn’t “appropriate” a little bit, you’d only ever write about yourself. Not so interesting for me. Not to mention that people don’t usually understand themselves too well. I think of most interactions, conversations, and people observations as learning about character, few of whom are like me. The Tokyo trains are great places to observe people. What novels, or good novels, do is allow us—or challenge us—to understand points of view, feelings, experiences and stories that are dissimilar to our own. But also similar, too, in some way, or we’d get weirded out and stop reading.
Because it’s so tricky to write characters unlike myself, I’m always wondering what that character would be thinking, feeling, saying or doing. I’m always testing it against my own experience, and my experience with other people and what others tell me of their experience. If handled with sensitivity and balance, all that helps create the true-ish energy of an engaging and believable character. When writing another type of character, I feel like it’s more of a dialogue that I have with that character. I wouldn’t say I appropriated Michiko, rather she appropriated ME, to tell her story!
Can you tell me a little about your journey from finished manuscript to published book? Are you self-published? (Raked Gravel Press is a great name, by the way).
I really love Zen rock gardens, so Raked Gravel Press is a company I set up. I’m the guinea pig for now, but plan on expanding to other authors in the future. I tried for years to get agents and editors interested in my creative non-fiction about Tokyo and in my novels set in Japan. That met with various degrees of non-success, though I got good at cover letters. So, I gave up on the traditional publishing route and went indie. “Indie” I would define as self-publishing with attitude. After I finished the manuscript, I sent it to an editor for content editing. He made a lot of ‘meta’ comments. Rewrote it again. From there, several friends read it and gave me input. Another rewrite or two. Then, I gave it to an editor who commented scene by scene and line by line. Rewrite #something. And then to a proofreader. More fiddling. A cover and web designer, a formatter, distributors, printers, and a promoter are all more people who helped along the journey. Without them, it would never happen. All of that amounts to setting up a freelance-based publishing company, but “company” in the sense of companions more than a financial corporation, I feel.
How has the experience been of constructing a novel instead of deconstructing one, as you would do as a literature professor?
It’s fascinating to work in both directions, from inside out as a writer and outside in as a professor. I think writing has made my teaching more creative, and teaching has made my writing more critical and solidly constructed. I probably learned more about novels by writing one than in all the years in graduate school, but I never would have gone to graduate school if I hadn’t always been writing. One is interpreting and explaining language and narrative, and the other is producing and polishing sentences and story. I’m not sure those are so different at bottom. University professors tend to look down on writing skill as a lower form of knowledge that lacks conceptual or historical understanding, while writers tend to discount academic theory as too removed from the real world. Writers can benefit from literary and critical theory and academics can learn a lot by writing creatively. What both need is heart, or they end up being just a theoretical or a technical exercise.
Are there tropes peculiar to Japan crime novels not present in, say, American hard-boiled yarns?
Yes, I think so, many. It would be interesting to make a list of them! There are expectations about how a story best unfolds that are often very different. I read a lot of both, but I wanted to be flexible enough to pick and choose from both traditions. To overuse the tropes from either side would end up being predictable. Also, I think the sense of what’s right and wrong really differ between the two at a detailed level. How things are solved might be more individual in American hard-boiled fiction, though much more group-oriented in Japan. Still, I think mystery is a basic, universal story form that exists in every culture.
What’s next for your sleuth Hiroshi? And for you?
I have two more books in the Hiroshi series written and almost ready, but still being edited and polished. One will come out later this year, and the other in spring 2018. There are a lot of issues that Hiroshi will dig into as the series develops. I have several others in the series sketched out, so we’ll see which one emerges after the next two. For myself, I plan on keeping on teaching and writing. I’ll squeeze in more non-fiction, too. And maybe a non-mystery, too, at some point. Tokyo’s a big city, so there’s a lot more to say!
It’s remiss of me, perhaps I should have asked first, how did you end up in Japan?
And why stay? It’s interesting. After university, I traveled for a couple years, but traveling penniless forever is hard to do. I taught in China for a couple years, and had friends here in Japan from grad school. So, I taught for a couple years, went back to the States, then to China, then back here again—all some strange current in the Pacific Ocean? Once I settled into teaching at university here, I stayed. Tokyo’s an intense place and if not always easy to live in at least always interesting.
Where can readers get in touch with you and where can they buy The Last Train ?
The Last Train, and my other three books on Tokyo life, are available from Amazon, Smashwords, Barnes and Noble, Kobo and other e-book sites. Paper and digital copies inside Japan are available directly from my website, too. I love to hear from readers and writers, so please do get in touch!
www.michaelpronko.com/newsletter/
www.amazon.com/author/michaelpronko
www.facebook.com/pronkoauthor/
* * *
To get your Patrick Sherriff starter library for free, just tell me where to send it.
May 23, 2017
Starred Review from Blue Ink
STARRED REVIEW
The Last Train: A Tokyo Mystery
Michael Pronko
Raked Gravel Press, 348 pages, (paperback) $15.99, 978-1942410126 (Reviewed: May, 2017)
The Last Train wastes no time grabbing the reader’s attention: It opens with a mysterious Japanese woman who leads her hapless American victim to a Tokyo subway station, then pushes him into the oncoming last train of the night.
After this breathtaking start, we meet police detective Hiroshi Shimizu, still recovering from a breakup with his American girlfriend. He’s assigned to financial crimes because he speaks fluent English, but a friend and mentor keeps pulling him into homicides. He’s placed on this murder because the victim was American and his English skills might be helpful.
From there, author Michael Pronko deftly weaves together a plot that flashes back and forth between the killer, who we learn is named Michiko Suzuki; her dark, tragic past, and Shimizu’s determination to track her down. Along the way, Pronko introduces a cast of fascinating characters, including Shimizu’s gruff mentor Takamatsu; sumo-wrestler-turned-cop Sakaguchi; an accountant and photographer who have been helping Suzuki with her killing spree, and the Tokyo yakuza (organized crime syndicate). As the plot unfolds, Pronko takes readers through Tokyo’s sexually explicit “hostess bar” underground scene in the city’s lively Roppongi nightclub district, authentically rendered by the author.
For anyone who loves crime and cop novels, or Japanophiles in general, this is a terrific thriller. And fans of author Barry Eisler’s early novels featuring John Rain, a Tokyo-based half- Japanese assassin, will find the same satisfactions here. Pronko lives in Japan, and his knowledge of the culture and settings are obvious and impressive. The characters are believable and never condescending. Japan isn’t a mere exotic locale for the narrative; the story closely follows Japanese cultural values such as loyalty, honor and reciprocation.
In all, this is one you won’t want to miss. The Last Train will leave you scrambling for Pronko’s two other books featuring detective Shimizu: Thai Girl in Tokyo and Japan Hand.
Also available as an ebook.
Publishers Daily Reviews
Tokyo comes to vivid life in this taut thriller by consummate storyteller Michael Pronko. The fast pace is set early as an American businessman is pushed in front of a speeding express train deep underground — with predictable and gory results.
But who shoved him and why?
A trail of business cards leads two Tokyo detectives through the fascinating world of Japanese “hostess clubs” in search of a tall, brunette woman glimpsed only briefly in security camera footage.
Pronko’s richly layered and detailed description of Tokyo’s many facets — which only a native or long-time resident, like the author — can imbue, fill the narrative with the city’s robust sights and sounds, from glittering and raucous karaoke bars to savory ramen noodle shops.
Private detective Hiroshi Shimizu is paired with a seasoned plainclothes cop named Takamatsu to begin a methodical search for the killer under pressure from the U.S. Embassy — and it leads them inevitably through a string of nightclubs each night.
Drinking is serious business in Tokyo, as are the ritualized greetings and averted eyes that are so much a part of the culture in the Japanese capitol. If you’ve never been to Japan, you’ll learn a lot, just by soaking up the scenes that enrich this story.
The emerging list of clues the twosome must follow up is daunting. Like the startling fact that Tokyo has more than five suicides each and every day at train stations alone — more than 2,000 a year.
That would be an easy way to write off the unfortunate American’s death. But, for Hiroshi and Takamatsu, the image of the tall, broad-shouldered beauty glimpsed in the railway camera archives keeps floating to the top of the list of things that just don’t add up.
You, as the reader, have the woman’s name early in the book, and even a bit of back story on her. But watching as the determined detectives unravel the knotted skein of clues that will give them her name and location — that’s the most delicious part of the novel.
Well, that and the tough guy talk that’s apparently dished out by cops in Tokyo just like in New York. After roughing up a reticent doorman at one of the clubs, the manager says, “If you need information, you should ask politely.”
“That was polite,” says an ex-sumo wrestler plainclothes officer assisting in the investigation.
On and on, the trail becomes more tortuous but never tedious, filled with colorful characters that come and go as Shimizu and Takamatsu begin tightening the noose around the lovely neck of this mysterious — and deadly — killer.
In fact, you’ll know almost everything about the crimes, the perpetrator and the stunning number of times she’s struck long before you gain that last vital piece that marks any good whodunit — the motive.
Why did Michiko Suzuki do all these terrible things?
That’s what will keep you turning the pages of this first-rate piece of fiction far into the night. And you won’t be disappointed.
We’ll even go so far as to say this beautifully crafted thriller rivals The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo in its unrelenting portrayal of a strong female character driven to do dark deeds in a foreign land — and the heart-pounding search to find her.
Five-plus stars to Michael Pronko and The Last Train. They just don’t get any better than this — in any country, anywhere in the world.
Don Sloan Publishers Daily Review
http://publishersdailyreviews.com/
4 out of 4 stars from OnlineBookClub.org
Official Review: The Last Train by Michael Pronko
Post Number:#1 by katiesquilts » Yesterday, 05:56
[Following is an official OnlineBookClub.org review of “The Last Train” by Michael Pronko.]
4 out of 4 stars
Review by katiesquilts
In Tokyo, the main form of transportation used by millions of commuters each day can easily become a deadly force. Trains – subways, commuter lines, express and bullet trains – run like clockwork with barely a minute’s delay. If you were planning to kill yourself in Tokyo, your first and most likely option would be to jump onto the tracks — an option that, unfortunately, many people choose every day. What if you wanted to kill someone else?
Detective Hiroshi Shimizu mostly works with money laundering, tracking illegal funds, the sort of thing that he can do alone on his computer. However, when he receives a visit from his friend Takamatsu in homicide, he’s pulled into Tokyo’s dark underside. He runs all over Tokyo, from hostess clubs in Roppongi to Narita airport, trying to track down who may have killed a foreign businessman working in Japan. Marking the death as a suicide would be the easiest route, but the foreigner was seen with a beautiful woman right before his death. Unlike with his money laundering work, this time Hiroshi’s not sitting on the other side of a screen from the bad guys. He’s working on a time limit as well, hoping that he can find the mystery woman – before she finds him first.
The Last Train is Michael Pronko’s first full-blown novel. Pronko is known as an expert on Japan, and has written a variety of articles and essays about Japanese culture. In The Last Train, he puts all of his knowledge to use to create a vibrant and true-to-form Tokyo. As a reader living in Tokyo, I experienced déjà vu reading about the exact train I was riding on. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought The Last Train was an English translation of a Japanese crime novel.
Besides the larger-than-life descriptions, I enjoyed the characters and the way they interacted with each other. There were many characters in the novel, as Hiroshi followed leads and hunted down his suspect. Each character, even the seemingly minor characters, left lasting impressions. I was actually disappointed when the end of the novel came around, wanting to learn more about the characters and what they would do next.
Honestly, I couldn’t find one mistake or quirk in the entire novel. I would definitely recommend it to crime and murder mystery fans, especially those with an interest in Japanese culture. There’s nothing too graphic despite the mention of multiple murders. However, it’s a bit slowed-pace and true to real investigations, so it may not suit those looking for a lot of action in their novels. Overall, I give The Last Train 4 out of 4 stars and am looking forward to reading Pronko’s other novels, also featuring Detective Hiroshi.
******
The Last Train
View: on Bookshelves
Five out of five from Literary Titan
The Last Train: A Tokyo Thriller
Posted by Literary Titan
Michael Pronko is a scholar and an on Japanese culture. He is also an excellent story teller that captivates readers and takes them on an adventure through his words. The Last Train is set in Tokyo, and even if you have never been to Tokyo, don’t worry, Pronko draws you into the life there. His attention to detail is not limited to the scenery, but the customs and mannerisms that make up the Japanese’s culture. There is extensive time devoted explaining the life and world revolving around the hostess clubs, not sex clubs, rather clubs where men go to find a woman to entertain them for a period of time, while drinking and getting their ego stroked. It is within this society of hostess clubs that murder mystery is flushed out. A killer, targeting foreign investors is using the trains as her weapon of choice.
The story revolves around Michiko Suzuki and the team of detectives that are investigating the train murders. Michiko is the daughter of a factory owner whose mother died when she was young. She was raised by her father and his workers. She learned early that business is not always neat and clean, and that sometimes getting their hands dirty and making backdoor deals is the norm there. As Pronko tells Suzuki’s story he alternates between current events and her memories of the past, telling how she got to where she is, and how she has picked her victims. The main detectives investigating are Hiroshi and Takamatsu. Hiroshi is an accountant that due to spending part of his life in America is fluent in English so he works white collar crimes for the police. Takamatsu is a homicide detective that pulls together his own dream team to work on this case. Their case takes a high profile turn and soon they’re dodging politics as well the cultural need to keep everything neat and tidy. Michiko tries to keep her activities low key but when several of her victims survive her plot, things get messy for her and the police.
One of the most fascinating things about this novel is not the mystery aspect. The murder is not a secret from the beginning. What is a mystery is why she is killing people, figuring out what drove her to this life. Hiroshi is a complex character as well, and his dynamic interactions throughout the investigations add to the plot as well as provide an unique look at the culture. Even though he is from Tokyo, spending time in America gave him a different perspective on the way things are done; whereas Takamatsu comes off as the typical Japanese man. They make an interesting and effective partnership. Having the diverse views interacting with witnesses and other characters makes for a dynamic story line, it is diverse and provides multiple views from different cultural perspectives. Much of the story takes place in Roppongi, here you see all the varieties of hostess clubs, the basic lounge style, mud wrestling, nude women, and the high-end invite only David’s Lounge. Each club gives readers a different taste of the culture.
Overall The Last Train by Michael Pronko is a well written and enticing look into the culture of Tokyo. The story behind Michiko Suzuki is compelling and engaging, you can’t help flipping the pages to see what she is going to do next and find out why her victims were chosen. Hiroshi connects well with everyone he interacts with so there is an emotional response from the reader. Pronko uses emotion, mystery and attention to detail to keep the reader engaged and wanting more. I look forward to seeing more from Pronko and hope he has more stories to tell with Hiroshi.
Pages: 348 | ASIN: B071DPXP7M
4 1/2 Stars from The Bookbag
The Last Train (Detective Hiroshi) by Michael Pronko
The Last Train (Detective Hiroshi) by Michael Pronko
Category: Thrillers
Reviewer: Sue Magee
Summary: We’ve been delighted by Michael Pronko’s non-fiction pieces about his adopted city of Tokyo. He’s now turned his hand to fiction and produced a thriller that’s brilliantly plotted and brings Tokyo to life as never before. Michael Pronko popped into Bookbag Towers to chat to us.
Buy? Yes
Borrow? Yes
Pages: 348
Date: May 2017
Publisher: Raked Gravel Press
External links: Author’s website
ISBN: 978-1942410126
Share on:
Related Kindle books
Death on the Last Tr… Harry Potter and the… Iced Malice (Detecti… Lady Midnight: A Sha… Last Breath: A Novel… Last Train Home (The… Last Train from Ligu… Last Train to Istanb… Last Trains: Dr Beec… The Girlfriend: The … The Keeper of Lost T… The Last Train The Last Train to No… The Last Train to Sc… The Last Train to Zo… You Can’t Make Old F…
Detective Hiroshi Shimizu usually investigates white collar crime in Tokyo. It suits him: he gets to have his own office, which is rare. He’s got space at home too: his girlfriend has not only left him, but she’s moved back to the States as well. He’s yet to ship all her boxes out of his apartment but when he’s done that he’ll be able to sleep in the bed again. White collar crime’s usually non-violent, but Hiroshi speaks English (many years spent in Boston when he was studying) and when an American businessman ends up dead under the last train, he’s called in to help. He could have done without having to see the body – or the people removing it from the tracks with chopsticks – but detective Takamatsu insisted.
Suicide would be the simplest conclusion to the case, but there’s footage from a security camera which suggests that a woman might have been with him as the train approached and might even have given the drunken man a little help in going over the edge of the platform. It’s easy to confuse suicide and murder and the late night train stations are the perfect spot for either. This isn’t the first time this has happened. Hiroshi’s used to business accounts and spreadsheets: when Takamatsu takes him to the hostess clubs of Roppongi, he’s well outside his comfort zone, although the deeper he digs the more it becomes obvious that there’s a dubious trade going on – the buying and selling of information about land deals in what’s possibly the most expensive real estate in the world.
Takamatsu has a cavalier attitude to the way that the job should be done – and to marital fidelity as well, so his disappearance doesn’t immediately ring alarm bells, but when it does Hiroshi works with ex-sumo wrestler Sakaguchi and they work their way through sacred temples, office blocks and industrial wastelands to find out what has happened. They know who’s responsible: she’s called Michiko, she’s beautiful and she’s very, very clever.
I don’t usually enjoy books when we know whodunnit from the off, but here the story’s about the chase and Michiko’s motivation. What turns a beautiful and seemingly rich woman into a murderer? And why do these particular men have to die? The plot is excellent and it’s supported by some exquisite writing. Let me give you an example:
Sakaguchi was waiting in front of the Almond Coffee Shop. His huge bulk drew stares. Everyone wanted to ask of he was a sumo wrestler, but nobody did.
There are glorious descriptions of food and it’s not always high-end restaurant food that grabs you by the taste buds. Michiko has a meal with her Uncle Ono:
She got chopsticks for them both, and her favourite furikake topping of seaweed, sesame seed, and dry wasabi. Uncle Ono served the grilled fish, its skin crackling brown, on long thin plates with shaved daikon and grated ginger. Michiko scooped miso soup into small lacquer bowls. They both said Itadakimasu, and Michiko poured furikake all over her rice.
Michael Pronko knows Tokyo well and what comes through in The Last Train is that this is a book written from knowledge rather than research and that he knows a lot more than he has any need to tell us. He brings the city gloriously to life, but if you’d like to read more about his adopted home you can’t do better than read his non-fiction books: Beauty and Chaos: Slices and Morsels of Tokyo Life and Motions and Moments: More Essays on Tokyo.
Michael Pronko About The Last Train was kind enough to be interviewed by Bookbag.
You can read more book reviews or buy The Last Train (Detective Hiroshi) by Michael Pronko at Amazon.co.uk.
You can read more book reviews or buy The Last Train (Detective Hiroshi) by Michael Pronko at Amazon.com.
Five Stars from Reader’s Favorite
http://readersfavorite.com/book-review/the-last-train
Review by Ruffina Oserio for Readers’ Favorite
Review Rating: 5 Stars – Congratulations on your 5-star review! 
The Last Train by Michael Pronko is a thriller with a spectacular setting, a gritty plot, and awesome characters. Get acquainted with Detective Hiroshi Shimizu who is swept away by the tide of Tokyo, investigating a homicide. An American businessman has been murdered, the death has been staged to look like suicide and it is in a city where just about anything could be possible and where the most innocent-looking face could lead one down a perilous path. Join the detective as he races across the city with ex-sumo wrestler Sakaguchi, experiencing the nightlife, the corporate business world, and the temples, each step as dangerous as the previous one, looking for the killer. Can they find the mysterious killer in time to stop another murder?
The first lines of every book, in fact, the first paragraph always tells me if I’ll love the book or not. The opening lines of this one are very descriptive of the characters, loaded with style and humor, allowing the reader a clear mental image of what the couple looks like. That detail was a promise that there would be a lot of humor and great passages in this book and the author delivered on that promise, brilliantly. “She was as tall as he was, but he was twice as wide and at least a decade, maybe two, older. She held his swaying body weight upright with her arm tight around his waist. Her tall, strong limbs prodded him forward along the late-night street—another Tokyo couple after a night out.”
Michael Pronko’s writing is captivating and readers will enjoy the Tokyo that is veiled from the eyes of tourists, the bubbling city with myriad secrets. The social commentaries add a lot of color to this gripping story. This is the first thriller I have read with a setting in Tokyo and it seems the author has a unique signature for plot and character. The characters are well-developed and they are memorable. The Last Train is nothing short of electrifying, a masterpiece that combines action with humor and suspense to give readers a unique entertainment.
Review by Susan Sewell for Readers’ Favorite
Review Rating: 5 Stars – Congratulations on your 5-star review!
Experience the city of Tokyo in the exhilarating thriller, The Last Train (A Tokyo Thriller) by Michael Pronko. Detective Hiroshi Shimizu’s American girlfriend has left him and returned to America. Reeling from the breakup, Hiroshi is happy to stay in the station and solve white collar crimes. However, his colleague, Takamatsu believes that Hiroshi should be using his talents and getting out and mixing with people. Takamatsu takes advantage of an early morning murder and calls Hiroshi in on a special case. Hiroshi has the benefit of having attended an American university, understands the culture, and can speak English. Suicide by train is becoming a trend in Tokyo, but the one that occurred early that morning involves an American businessman. Takamatsu believes that Hiroshi’s abilities are an asset and makes him an unwilling part of his team. The only clue they have is a woman caught on CCTV cameras escorting the latest victim into the train station, then exiting the station alone after the victim has met his demise. Another businessman is murdered, and the evidence again points to the unidentified woman. What is motivating the woman to commit murder? What does she have in common with American businessmen? Hiroshi, Takamatsu and their team race against the clock to get the answers before another life is taken. Will they succeed or will they fall prey and become the next casualties of the savvy killer?
Brilliantly set in the enigmatic modern city of Tokyo, The Last Train by Michael Pronko is a fast-paced and enthralling thriller, that will keep you spellbound to the final page. The plot is riveting and includes some fascinating twists that lead to a dramatic finale. Amidst all the action is a stimulating tour of Tokyo, seeing the city and the Japanese culture through the character’s eyes. This crime thriller novel is a winner with its combination of a captivating setting, engaging characters, and a storyline infused with intrigue and action. It is a fascinating and enjoyable novel and comparable to, if not better than, a James Patterson thriller. I highly recommend it to fans of this genre; you won’t be disappointed.
Review by Joel R. Dennstedt for Readers’ Favorite
Review Rating: 5 Stars – Congratulations on your 5-star review!
Michael Pronko, a highly-accomplished author already, offers up a truly stellar performance in this debut mystery-series novel, The Last Train. Set in modern day Tokyo, a literary hologram for the enticingly complex and still largely inaccessible – to foreigners – Japan, about which Pronko is personally and convincingly conversant, this mystery is as much an introduction to the back alleyways, hostess clubs, industrial factories and local markets of an exotic, deadly city as it is a cat-and-mouse chase through those venues to find an elusive murderess, whose preferred method of disposal involves throwing her victims in front of Japan’s famously fast and timely trains. Which is precisely where the novel begins, with police detective Hiroshi Shimizu conscripted from his normal white-collar crime duties – due to his fluency in English – to aid in the murder investigation of an American investor.
Were it only for the intriguing plot line of Michael Pronko’s mystery thriller, The Last Train, a reader would be well satisfied. A master of his craft, however, Pronko’s deeper skill lies in his ability to reveal with concise Japanese subtlety the city beneath the city, the people beneath the people, and the cause beneath the cause for which an all too sympathetic villain is enacting her decidedly gruesome revenge. One wonders if he is rooting for the cop or for the villain – maybe both? This is a complex novel written sparsely, maintaining a high velocity of movement while inducing a meditative contemplation toward the motivation of each character involved. There is humor too, as subtle as the rest. Woven altogether, Michael Pronko has put in place the foundation for a truly engaging and popular mystery series.
Interview with the Bookbag
Sue was very impressed by The Last Train, a thriller set in Tokyo. She had quite a few questions for author Michael Pronko when he popped into Bookbag Towers.
Bookbag: When you close your eyes and imagine your readers, who do you see?
Michael Pronko: I see all sorts of people. Whenever I talk about mysteries or thrillers, people often sheepishly confess how much they love reading them. All novels are mysteries in some sense. I see readers interested in Tokyo or Japanese culture, since Tokyo is a big mystery, or millions of small mysteries. Thrillers and mysteries are very ethical at their core, despite the awful things that happen. So, I think people who are mystery readers have a sharp sense of justice and maybe a need to see things set right, even when they can’t be. I also see readers who just love a great story.
BB: We’ve always been impressed by your non-fiction pieces on Tokyo. What inspired you to turn to fiction?
MP: I love writing both, but with the novel, I wanted to work inside a larger frame to create new kinds of connections between ideas, images, places and characters. In the non-fiction pieces, I’m always there reflecting on what’s happening, on what I see. So, with fiction, I can take myself out of the writing to see through another character’s eyes. I was also interested in taking readers (and myself) into the concealed interiors of Japanese culture. Much of Tokyo is hidden away. I can go to those secret places in non-fiction, too, of course, but fiction has more potential to explore and examine the veiled sides of Tokyo life. I’ve always written fiction, just not published much of it, so in a way, it’s turning back to fiction.
BB: Which do you find more difficult to write – fiction or non-fiction? Does your writing overlap at all?
MP: I find fiction is an expansion of experience and non-fiction a condensation of experience. Fiction makes broader connections and non-fiction makes focused connections. The two forms of writing are two ways of ordering and examining the world around me, two different lenses, two different writing challenges. I’m not sure which is harder ultimately, but for me, they feed off each other. Many passages in fiction, especially description and exposition, could be non-fiction, and non-fiction employs fictional elements, like three-part dramatic structure, irony, dialogue, or symbolism. They overlap tremendously. It’s not the parts that differ, but the whole.
BB: I loved Detective Hiroshi! Will we meet him again? What was the inspiration behind him?
MP: Yeah, he’s this likeable guy, a little lonely, very demure, but with tremendous energy, well-honed talents, and a strong sense of what’s right and wrong. Because of his experience outside Japan, he’s divided between his internationalized mindset and the traditional array of Japanese feelings and attitudes. I often sense this unresolved divide inside many Japanese. Hiroshi’s different from the other two detectives who are more “purely” Japanese. Sakaguchi, the sumo wrestler, all instinct and brawn, knows who he is. Takamatsu is the old-style Japanese male who does whatever he wants because he can, always sure of himself, too sure, it turns out. You will meet all of them again in the upcoming books, Japan Hand and Thai Girl in Tokyo.
BB: Your love of your adopted city shines through the story, but at one point you say that ‘Tokyo’s a strange, lonely wacko place’. Is that how it feels to you?
MP: In the novel, the American guy who is escaping Tokyo says that at the airport. I feel that way sometimes at the airport, too, going in AND going out! But, living here, it all starts to make sense in a way, so I would not say it’s wacko. Some things are still strange to me, but I like that sense of strangeness. I find a little discomfort energizing, and motivating. Tokyo is a very lonely place, though, and that’s what many scenes express. Tokyo is a split way of life where you are massed into large groups, on the train, at work, in social outings, but you still spend a lot of time alone. Maybe that’s the wacko side?
BB: The men who move the boxes from Hiroshi’s apartment are described as ‘displaying the self-respect Japanese accorded all jobs, high or low’. Is this a particularly Japanese trait? Do you think the western world would do well to copy it?
MP: Yes, I think that’s a great attitude and very Japanese. In the West, many people lose the sense of self-respect that comes from work. I think in the west people should respect other people’s work more, whatever they’re doing. It’s amazing the level of service in Japan, and it comes from performing whatever job with dignity. You expect people to do their job, but you thank them for even the smallest of things. Japanese have a sense of duty, to do what they should do, even if that’s something—like wiping tables or wrapping a package—that seems trivial. It’s a form of mutual respect that pervades all public interactions in Japan.
BB: You describe real estate in Tokyo as being some of the most expensive in the world. Does this create problems for Japanese workers?
MP: It creates problems for everyone who doesn’t own any! This is the core social and economic conflict of the novel. Real estate became a dominant form of power during the bubble years of the 1990s when prices went sky high. But even after the economy slid into recession, owning real estate was still the great social divide. Things are spatially cramped in Tokyo, so you will see even small plots of land, I mean like arms-width, being turned into a store or a three-story house. Space is just always this calculation about everything. It drives the economy, not always in good directions. It’s a basic desire, because it’s so in demand, and so hard to get. That’s why Michiko in the novel is so unusual, because she figures this out and acts on it. She’s not satisfied accepting her land-less life.
BB: Your descriptions of Japanese food made my mouth water. What would be your perfect meal?
MP: I love having a bowl of ramen noodles by myself along a long counter in a steamy noodle restaurant. But I think “the” perfect meal is with friends, talking, eating, drinking. It starts with light vegetable dishes and tofu and proceeds to a plate of raw fish (sashimi) served on ice. From there, I order yakitori, a succession of grilled chicken and vegetable skewers, followed by grilled fish or deep-fried chicken. And I always order something I don’t know, some strange, seasonal, unknown thing. Wash it all down with cold sake. At the end, chazuke, which is green tea with rice, nori, and a sliver of salty fish. Puts you right to sleep. Perfect.
BB: You’re a university professor and you teach a wide variety of subjects. How do you find the time to write?
MP: I wonder myself. I’d love more time to write, but I feel teaching feeds into writing and vice versa. My students keep the reading side of literature alive for me. It’s so fresh and first-time for them. Outlining a novel to prep for my seminar is learning to write. When we work on a poem in class, it heightens both my students’ and my feel for the power of language. With the films I teach, my students and I work on outlines together before discussing characters, conflicts and themes. All that feeds into writing. And it flows in the other direction. Writing novels allows me to better help students understand how novels work and what they mean. William Carlos Williams said he couldn’t have been a poet without being a doctor, and vice versa. I take his attitude as good, solid advice. It’s less conflict than confluence. Most of the time, anyway.
BB: What’s next for Michael Pronko?
MP: Two more novels in the same Hiroshi series are penned and drafted, but not polished and finalized. The next one, Japan Hand, focuses on Japan’s relationship with America, especially the military bases. It features a great main character who is, unfortunately, dead from the beginning, and digs into US-Japan relations. The next after that, Thai Girl in Tokyo, looks at the world of teenagers, prostitution and pornography. It features two fantastic women characters on the lam, one a vibrant Thai girl and the other a street-smart Japanese teen. And some non-fiction, too. I’ll be in the U.S. for several months this year to do research, and will gather notes for a non-fiction book about Japan and America, a side-by-side cultural consideration. When I get back, I’ll focus on a non-fiction book on Japanese cultural objects.
BB: There’s lots to look forward to there, Michael. Thank you for taking the time to talk to us.
Sue was very impressed by The Last Train, a thriller set in Tokyo. She had quite a few questions for author Michael Pronko when he popped into Bookbag Towers.
Bookbag: When you close your eyes and imagine your readers, who do you see?
Michael Pronko: I see all sorts of people. Whenever I talk about mysteries or thrillers, people often sheepishly confess how much they love reading them. All novels are mysteries in some sense. I see readers interested in Tokyo or Japanese culture, since Tokyo is a big mystery, or millions of small mysteries. Thrillers and mysteries are very ethical at their core, despite the awful things that happen. So, I think people who are mystery readers have a sharp sense of justice and maybe a need to see things set right, even when they can’t be. I also see readers who just love a great story.
BB: We’ve always been impressed by your non-fiction pieces on Tokyo. What inspired you to turn to fiction?
MP: I love writing both, but with the novel, I wanted to work inside a larger frame to create new kinds of connections between ideas, images, places and characters. In the non-fiction pieces, I’m always there reflecting on what’s happening, on what I see. So, with fiction, I can take myself out of the writing to see through another character’s eyes. I was also interested in taking readers (and myself) into the concealed interiors of Japanese culture. Much of Tokyo is hidden away. I can go to those secret places in non-fiction, too, of course, but fiction has more potential to explore and examine the veiled sides of Tokyo life. I’ve always written fiction, just not published much of it, so in a way, it’s turning back to fiction.
BB: Which do you find more difficult to write – fiction or non-fiction? Does your writing overlap at all?
MP: I find fiction is an expansion of experience and non-fiction a condensation of experience. Fiction makes broader connections and non-fiction makes focused connections. The two forms of writing are two ways of ordering and examining the world around me, two different lenses, two different writing challenges. I’m not sure which is harder ultimately, but for me, they feed off each other. Many passages in fiction, especially description and exposition, could be non-fiction, and non-fiction employs fictional elements, like three-part dramatic structure, irony, dialogue, or symbolism. They overlap tremendously. It’s not the parts that differ, but the whole.
BB: I loved Detective Hiroshi! Will we meet him again? What was the inspiration behind him?
MP: Yeah, he’s this likeable guy, a little lonely, very demure, but with tremendous energy, well-honed talents, and a strong sense of what’s right and wrong. Because of his experience outside Japan, he’s divided between his internationalized mindset and the traditional array of Japanese feelings and attitudes. I often sense this unresolved divide inside many Japanese. Hiroshi’s different from the other two detectives who are more “purely” Japanese. Sakaguchi, the sumo wrestler, all instinct and brawn, knows who he is. Takamatsu is the old-style Japanese male who does whatever he wants because he can, always sure of himself, too sure, it turns out. You will meet all of them again in the upcoming books, Japan Hand and Thai Girl in Tokyo.
BB: Your love of your adopted city shines through the story, but at one point you say that ‘Tokyo’s a strange, lonely wacko place’. Is that how it feels to you?
MP: In the novel, the American guy who is escaping Tokyo says that at the airport. I feel that way sometimes at the airport, too, going in AND going out! But, living here, it all starts to make sense in a way, so I would not say it’s wacko. Some things are still strange to me, but I like that sense of strangeness. I find a little discomfort energizing, and motivating. Tokyo is a very lonely place, though, and that’s what many scenes express. Tokyo is a split way of life where you are massed into large groups, on the train, at work, in social outings, but you still spend a lot of time alone. Maybe that’s the wacko side?
BB: The men who move the boxes from Hiroshi’s apartment are described as ‘displaying the self-respect Japanese accorded all jobs, high or low’. Is this a particularly Japanese trait? Do you think the western world would do well to copy it?
MP: Yes, I think that’s a great attitude and very Japanese. In the West, many people lose the sense of self-respect that comes from work. I think in the west people should respect other people’s work more, whatever they’re doing. It’s amazing the level of service in Japan, and it comes from performing whatever job with dignity. You expect people to do their job, but you thank them for even the smallest of things. Japanese have a sense of duty, to do what they should do, even if that’s something—like wiping tables or wrapping a package—that seems trivial. It’s a form of mutual respect that pervades all public interactions in Japan.
BB: You describe real estate in Tokyo as being some of the most expensive in the world. Does this create problems for Japanese workers?
MP: It creates problems for everyone who doesn’t own any! This is the core social and economic conflict of the novel. Real estate became a dominant form of power during the bubble years of the 1990s when prices went sky high. But even after the economy slid into recession, owning real estate was still the great social divide. Things are spatially cramped in Tokyo, so you will see even small plots of land, I mean like arms-width, being turned into a store or a three-story house. Space is just always this calculation about everything. It drives the economy, not always in good directions. It’s a basic desire, because it’s so in demand, and so hard to get. That’s why Michiko in the novel is so unusual, because she figures this out and acts on it. She’s not satisfied accepting her land-less life.
BB: Your descriptions of Japanese food made my mouth water. What would be your perfect meal?
MP: I love having a bowl of ramen noodles by myself along a long counter in a steamy noodle restaurant. But I think “the” perfect meal is with friends, talking, eating, drinking. It starts with light vegetable dishes and tofu and proceeds to a plate of raw fish (sashimi) served on ice. From there, I order yakitori, a succession of grilled chicken and vegetable skewers, followed by grilled fish or deep-fried chicken. And I always order something I don’t know, some strange, seasonal, unknown thing. Wash it all down with cold sake. At the end, chazuke, which is green tea with rice, nori, and a sliver of salty fish. Puts you right to sleep. Perfect.
BB: You’re a university professor and you teach a wide variety of subjects. How do you find the time to write?
MP: I wonder myself. I’d love more time to write, but I feel teaching feeds into writing and vice versa. My students keep the reading side of literature alive for me. It’s so fresh and first-time for them. Outlining a novel to prep for my seminar is learning to write. When we work on a poem in class, it heightens both my students’ and my feel for the power of language. With the films I teach, my students and I work on outlines together before discussing characters, conflicts and themes. All that feeds into writing. And it flows in the other direction. Writing novels allows me to better help students understand how novels work and what they mean. William Carlos Williams said he couldn’t have been a poet without being a doctor, and vice versa. I take his attitude as good, solid advice. It’s less conflict than confluence. Most of the time, anyway.
BB: What’s next for Michael Pronko?
MP: Two more novels in the same Hiroshi series are penned and drafted, but not polished and finalized. The next one, Japan Hand, focuses on Japan’s relationship with America, especially the military bases. It features a great main character who is, unfortunately, dead from the beginning, and digs into US-Japan relations. The next after that, Thai Girl in Tokyo, looks at the world of teenagers, prostitution and pornography. It features two fantastic women characters on the lam, one a vibrant Thai girl and the other a street-smart Japanese teen. And some non-fiction, too. I’ll be in the U.S. for several months this year to do research, and will gather notes for a non-fiction book about Japan and America, a side-by-side cultural consideration. When I get back, I’ll focus on a non-fiction book on Japanese cultural objects.
BB: There’s lots to look forward to there, Michael. Thank you for taking the time to talk to us.
May 13, 2017
Plates, dishes, bowls, cups, glasses
At an onsen hot springs resort in Hakone, the bath, the bed, the bamboo outside the balcony in the afternoon sun were all perfect. After soaking, napping and reading all afternoon, dinner started arriving at 6:45 promptly, just as the waitress said it would when she showed us to our room.
The waitress carried in a tray filled with dishes, knelt and set it on the tatami. She began placing them on the low table, one by one by one, delicately, wisely, like notes from a jazz solo. Each dish touched down on the wood with a light thunk as the room filled with the tenderly intertwined aromas of fresh fish, steamed veggies and grilled fish. It took the next two delicious hours to load and unload all the food. Each dish could be polished off in a couple bites, but the slowly revealed series felt endless.
I once read that the custom of serving food in multiple, small, diverse pottery started out as a way of amusing the daughters of merchants in Osaka. A wealthy urban family at that time would never cook at home. They’d simply order out. Every day. Have it delivered. To keep the wealthy household happy, a succession of ever-unique, unique, small dishes had to be rotated to present the food and keep their business.
If that’s true, and it sounds true to me, our 18-hour stay at the onsen involved exquisite food served in 50-plus well-chosen dishes each with a unique size, shape, texture and material. Here’s the count:
Dinner (6:45)
Hors d’oeuvres 5 (square, round, flat round, large plate and gently curved glass)
Hot soup 1 (2 if you count the top)
Sashimi 2 (one white box and one circular soy sauce/wasabi dipping bowl)
Steamed dish 1 (again, not counting the top)
Fried fish 1
Noodles 1
Baked dish 1 (metal plate in wood frame)
Cold salad 1
Rice, pickles, miso soup 3
Dessert 3 (4 if you count the tray) (5 if you count the gold paper)
Tea cup 1
Sake flask and cup 2 (same flask refilled twice, so nothing new)
Beer glass 1
Chopstick rest 1
Total: 22
It was a blur of colors, shapes and textures, as if the chef was trying to include every possible variation of pottery. I wondered if the chef was in charge, or the sous-chef, or if there was just a specialist in charge of how each would look—the visual chef, the culinary designer.
A glass or two of sake and the myriad flavors dispelled my questions and eased me into the flow of a delicious meal, after which, I was ready for another soak in the bath. There’s no sleep deeper than after a steamy, outdoor bath. Or maybe it was the fatigue of watching all the dishes arrive, put in place one by one, and then seeing them all picked up one by one and carted off again.
The next morning, Despite the post-sake bleariness and yuzukari (bath fatigue), I restarted my count when breakfast arrived in the same ceremonial procession. Breakfast dishes were harder to count since the waitress brought them out on trays in just two or three deliveries. They filled the large, low table.
A few items could be included or excluded from that total, depending, like the dark orange origami box to hold the umeboshi dried-plum pits. Should I consider that as part of the count, or as just a lovely, minuscule trash bag? To be reasonable, I left out the two curved lacquer containers for oshibori (hot hand towels) and the placemats. I didn’t want to exaggerate, though in fact the count should be doubled, as there was one each for me and another for my wife. That’d bring the two-meal, two-person total to nearly one hundred.
Breakfast (8:30)
Grapefruit juice glass 1
Eggplant dish 1
Green vegetable dish 1
Western salad 1
Western salad dressing dish 1
Sashimi plate 1
Fish and fish egg bowl 1
Boiling tofu dumpling pot 1 (not counting wood container and fire pot below) (or the top)
Fried fish, egg and vegetable plate 1
Yoghurt and fruit plate 1
Rice bowl 1
Soy sauce dispenser 1
Soy sauce dipping tray 1
Miso soup bowl 1 (not counting the top)
Toothpick container 1
Umeboshi plum plate 1
Umeboshi plum pit holder 1 (for the pits only)
Leftover inarizushi container 1 (uneaten midnight snack, technically not breakfast)
Tea pot 1 (shared)
Tea cup 1
Tea cup saucer 1
Lacquered rice warmer 1 (shared)
Rice scoop bowl (with warm water) 1 (shared)
Extra bowl with spoon (not sure what for) 1
Chopstick rest 1
Total: 25 (more than dinner)
My wife, not generally given to humor, suggested we start eating out of small dishes like this at home. But our dishes at home are huge, American-sized things. And who would wash all these? Me, I realized she was suggesting, but I’d have to get smaller fingers and a teensy sponge.
I wondered how the waitress could remember the order, or if the cooks sent them in order up the dumbwaiter. She placed them in the exact same spot for both of us, which must have been THE correct spot. But how did she know that? Was she free to place them where she liked? Did she practice with the chef? Did she just know? And where did they store all these 50-some serving dishes? An intricate network of specially shaped shelves each a narrow height?
So, I asked her. She looked at me as if she had never heard that question before, and replied that a pottery delivery service (it took me a while to figure out her explanation) brought new pottery to match the rotating menu for each season. That meant we were just getting the spring set for this specific menu. When we returned, perhaps in the fall, (if we could afford it), there would be all new pottery to fit the fall food.
I felt stunned at the detail of this miniature parade, at how well the food matched what held it. Which came first—the food or the dish? The table became a canvas on which to paint with edibles and containers.
Somehow, I wanted to keep something of the performance for myself. My wife was not amused when I confessed my desire to pocket the blue-swirled soy sauce dipping plate and the green, leaf-patterned umeboshi dish, the two that called me to me deeply with their appealing asymmetry.
But that would have turned the experience into a concrete solidity and ruined the fluid, fleeting beauty. And as I thought about the micro-majesty of all the porcelain, lacquerware, and glass we’d been fed from deep in the post-meal bath in the cool night air, I felt not only my worries soaking way but I felt the steaming hot water working as a fixative, setting the colors and patterns of the food and the dishes deep into my mind, making sure the memory wouldn’t run or fade, and would remain with me for a very long time.
(May 12, 2017)
