If anyone saw the recent Japan travelogues from Sue Perkins on the BBC, you would have seen a country full of daft quirks and eccentricities delivered in the irreverent comedienne's trademark "Oh arent you a silly bunch" humour.
But what lies behind the oddities and unique, bizarre traditions of this rather insular nation of beauty and cosmopolitan grandeur and technological revolution is a deep dark psyche and contradictory nature. A simplistic severity and traumatic attitude towards sex and the genders amid dominated and submissive porcelain doll children. A race of people who think and act towards those of other nationalities like nobody else and who have a perverted fascination with foreigners. And in particular, women.
Which brings us to the suburbs of Roppongi and Kabukicho and the dark, seedy world of adult entertainment. Of deeply sick and twisted men and their fetish for non-Japanese, catered for by hostess bars, strip clubs and brothels. Restaurants you can cuddle cats and eat off toilet bowls, then head to a vending machine to pair of used schoolgirl's knickers. Of anime comic novels that are deeply soaked in violence and Paedophilia.
But then again, you can buy those in the Japan Centre store, in Piccadilly Circus if were that way inclined. Yeah, it's a fucked up place.
Tokyo Hostess follows a few cases from over the years of the naive and hungry for adventure who find themselves in what they believed to be a safe and innocent profession. That of sitting in a cafe and fake laughing at business men, desperate for smiles and attention, away from their stern but agreeable wives. But what they evidently find is an occupation fraught with punishing schedules, peer pressure and the lure of drug and alcohol addiction. Not to mention dangerous temptations.
The way the girls featured in this book were killed also were both harrowing and inventive. Not to mention brutal and worryingly highlights a psychological nature of a fascinating peoples and a forever evolving, peculiar culture.
Lock up your daughters.