Ever since I watched my first 'Ghost in the Shell' episode I was hooked. Instantly it became my notion of cyberpunk, leaving the worlds of William Gibson and Neal Stephenson far behind. Though I had never read the manga, the world seemed so well thought out and crisp and interesting; every new facet of technology had a spring of interesting plots that could surge from it. I must admit that when I bought my first novels, I had little hope for them; I assumed they were just some lower writer from the show penning a minor fan-fic to piggy back on the shows success. In a sense I was correct. They were written by a younger writer from the show and weren't as sturdy and engrossing as the show (though one of them, I do admit, was much better than the other one and was overall a good read). After finding the last novel was out of print, I stumbled upon 'Innocence'.
'Innocence' takes the (in my opinion) lesser path in the fork of the series. After the first movie, the Major enters the Net and disappears; however, in the animated series, other novels, and subsequent movie, the first movie is not included in any of the canon and the Major continues fighting cybercrime with Public Security Section 9. 'Innocence' belongs to the universe of the Major who disappeared. This naturally puts a bit of disappointment on the pages because of how much I enjoy reading about the Major, but the author didn't choose what was written before him so I can't fault him for it.
Now, on to the book itself. Overall, it was a good book. I wouldn't recommend it to any one who wasn't a Ghost in the Shell fan simply because the world and characters rely so much upon the pre-existing knowledge and feel of the series (which is both a crutch that keeps the author up but also inherently slows him down), but if you have a hunger for more Section 9 (specifically Batou), then the book delivers.
Yamada's style is decent, though not wholly memorable. He has a tendency to dice up thoughts and lines into smaller and smaller paragraphs (sometimes consisting of three or four consecutive paragraphs which are five to ten words each) as if that framing some how makes them more dramatic, which is doesn't. I also was not a particular fan of most of the action scenes. Perhaps this is more of an inherent flaw in the genre than merely this book, but let me try to explain regardless. There are so many new and amazing technologies in this world of computers and science. For people living in it, there would be no need to describe them in detail but we, as ignorant, fictional observers hovering around and in the thoughts of the players, need something that 'shows' that this world is science fiction. The result is about a paragraph or two cutting up some dramatic, fast paced action with a very technical description of some sensor or gun or e-brain program Batou has running. To me, it feels (for the most part) like the author has called a time-out and needs to explain one more rule he forgot to mention at the beginning of his game and puts a huge damper on the momentum the story had at that point. Is there a good way around this? For Yamada it's difficult because outside of vagrants, every one in this world all ready knows; we alone are the troglodytes. So while I cannot offer a fix, I can say definitively that for me it was a problem.
Now as to the heart of the book; the plot and the characters. The plot was decent, on par with the above average episodes in the series. There are still a few gray areas for me (particularly concerning the motives of The Breeder in a few instances), but I don't doubt if I ever go back and read it with the fore knowledge they'll clear themselves out rather quickly. As I said before, I was pining for an appearance by the Major, but it was not to be (which I honestly should have known, seeing as how this book was a story leading up to the second Ghost in the Shell movie, where the Major makes a surprise appearance. In fact, one of the plots that I thought was a red herring turned out to move the plot of the story right into the plot of the second movie. Now I'll have to watch it again to see how well all the pieces fit). Batou, the lonely cyborg member of Section 9 who is depressed and suffering by his lonesome without the Major's presence, relies on the relationship he has with his basset hound to hold himself together. At first I thought this was a cheesy, cloying way of showing Batou's inner character, but I was wrong; how Yamada paints him as a smart, introspective, but doubtful and questioning character is wonderfully done. On the outside, he is a stern, bulwark of a man, but his inner guilt and borderline regret at being essentially a binary machine offers an interesting (and very real for this world) dichotomy. His musings, though sometimes seemingly incoherent on first glance, are very well thought out and rational, as we'd expect a computer to be. But they are also hopeful despite spawning from a depressed mind; though he is confident he does not have a soul, he knows he does have love and feelings for his dog and the Major and is willing to sacrifice all of his cold, mechanical self for just the chance to get them back.
As I read this, I empathized with his position and thought 'If this world were true, I could easily see a character struggle (and handle) his problems just the way he is'. And that is, in my view, the key to good sci-fi; the world can be as advanced and magical and awe inspiring as you want, but if it were to exist, would the players act as they are? I feel so many sci-fi authors build their novel around an interesting idea and forget the realistic human aspect of it, the part that every reader wants to empathize and relate to. If that's not there, the novel may be a unique, incredibly imaginative look at a new and dazzling world, but that's it; there are no characters to empathize with and give it flesh. 'Innocence' most certainly has flesh, even if it's made of ones and zeroes.