Yokai Relations, the border between the monsters of Japanese legend and the regular population, doesn’t pay as well as it used to. Nick McLeod clings to his job on the dense streets of Tokyo, satisfied as long as he covers his rent and whiskey each month. Nick lives on the line between functional and full-blown alcoholic and has managed to not fall over yet. Until Lin, the only fox to show him any tenderness, ends up dead. Her apparent murderer, a black cloaked monster shrouded in cigarette smoke, is dead set on throwing him over that edge. Together with his assistant Tom, a 7-foot tall, fashionista ogre, Nick fights to survive this threat before he’s crushed under the weight of his own personal demons. Addiction can wear down the strongest man. The heaviest thing Nick’s lifted in months? A fifth of whiskey. Nobody hits rock-bottom in free fall. You skid.
Yokai Blues is a story that has the potential to be deep and thought-provoking, and indeed it is, but there are several things that get in the way of the message and make this book a little less enjoyable than it could be.
Now, I’ll preface this review by saying that what I read is the original version that was released in 2014. Since then, the book seems to have been re-released as three separate parts. Though I’m not sure why the book was divided—it’s not a long book and it flows decently well as a whole—I imagine the re-release is part of a revision plan, as Parts I and II are out but III is still pending. I have not read the newer re-released versions, which came out in 2017, so bear in mind that some of my comments may now be outdated. For the best experience, you may have to read the newer versions, but if you want to read the finished story, this will be your best bet.
In any case, on to the review. In short, I actually really enjoyed this book. However much a few things might have irked me, I thought it was well thought-out, had a fascinating world, and excellently fleshed out characters. What really impressed me was that the story actually has a very deep and thoughtful ending, that likely mirrors LaTorre’s own personal experiences. I did not expect that, and it was a pleasant surprise.
I also really like LaTorre’s version of Japan, where yokai live and work together with humans. He did seem to include a fair bit of Japanese folklore in his characters’ foundations, which I thought was really cool. There are few books that delve into that genre, so this was definitely a treat! I also thought he penned an interesting view of the grungier, seedier underbelly of Tokyo, which many people are not aware of.
However, there were some poorly written things in this novel that I just could not ignore. For one, the main character, Nick, was such an unlikeable character that I didn’t really care much what happened to him. I suppose that’s the whole point, but readers typically want a character that at least in some way makes them want to root for him. Having a horrible, sloppy personality, as well as making a slew of terrible and stupid decisions made Nick someone I wanted to take by the shoulders and shake violently in every chapter.
The story also had strange pacing. There were a lot of scenes that felt like a climax even though they were not, and after a while, when one began I started to think, “Again?”. Some of them seemed almost repetitive. I wouldn’t say that those scenes need to be cut out, necessarily, because they did all add to the story. But…I’m not sure how, but some things need a little tweaking here or there.
I also found things that were improbable about the setting. I lived in Japan myself—as did LaTorre, whom I actually met in 2014 at a comedy club in Shibuya (he likely doesn’t remember), where he invited me to check out his book (and I regret immensely that it took me 6 years to do so). Based on my experience in the country, there were numerous scenarios that just seemed utterly unlikely. How would a Japanese landlord be okay with his foreigner tenant burning down his apartment? What nurse—Japanese or otherwise—would willingly bring her ICU patient alcohol to drink while in the hospital? There were quite a few little things like this that irked me and brought me out of the story.
The last thing, which drove me absolutely nuts, was that LaTorre has a tendency to write in incomplete sentences. That is an absolute pet peeve of mine, and I hope he’s fixed that in his updated editions.
Fortunately, none of these factors truly deterred me from finishing the book, and I’m glad I did, because the ending ended up being profound, if a little mysterious. I think LaTorre has real potential to be a very moving and thought-provoking author—provided he finds a good editor and perhaps a few beta readers to check his work before he publishes.
All in all, I would recommend this book with a caution if you have been to Japan, know a bit about Japanese folklore, or just enjoy a bit of a fantasy mystery/thriller with a twist of realism. It’s an intriguing story, and no doubt you’ll come out of it thinking a little more deeply about yourself and the world around you!
I have been internet stalking John LaTorre for quite some time now as I enjoy his writing and was waiting impatiently for the release of Yokai Blues. The book didn't disappoint - fast paced, excellent descriptions and a riveting storyline. He doesn’t explain and spell everything out, leaving gaps for us readers to fill in ourselves and keep us wondering. If the story had ended a page sooner (hard to tell on the kindle version) I think it would have been stronger, but that is only a minor quibble. There was also one section that seemed a bit of a non-sequitur to me, but when you're dealing with magic you have to expect the unexpected from time to time.
The portrayal and interaction between the main character and his assistant was excellent. I knew exactly where Nick was coming from, as I've come close to that state myself, and the long suffering nature of Tom was spot on. The mother was enigmatic in that annoying way that older relations of old flames can be. The Big Bad was deliciously despicable, a real mustache twirler out of a pantomime. I felt like booing and hissing every time he strode onto the page.
John LaTorre creates an interesting hybrid between our world and the fantastic. He leaves us wanting to know a lot more, for example why it's only Japan's mythical creatures that have appeared. I'm hoping that this is just the first of many in a long series of books where some of these questions will be answered (and even more will be raised).