1996 story. Written by Koji Suzuki.
Related Reviews:
- The 2007 television adaptation for the series Masters of Horror.
This starts off a nice social satire as Masayuki Enoyoshi has the misfortune of being conned onto a yacht by a well-to-do couple, the Ushijimas, who are trying to bring him into their pyramid scam. Suzuki plays to his strengths, with morally grey characters and rich descriptions of Tokyo Bay.
Then the supernatural kicks in and things take a dip (which is Suzuki playing to his weaknesses). Seriously, a ghost pops up out of the middle of nowhere with no motivation, no real reason to be there ... other than a weak, throw-away metaphor of putting snobs in their place.
As with other supernatural stories, Suzuki fails when it comes to ghost logic. Why this ghost? Why those victims? If a ghost can do this so easily, then why isn't it happening more often?
Thankfully, things wrap back around to satire for an appropriate ending.
This story is collected in the Koji Suzuki anthology Dark Water, which is available in English in trade paperback and hardcover formats. For more information, visit the anthology's page at the Vertical, Inc. website, or its Wikipedia page.
January 22, 2008
January 14, 2008
[The Works of Koji Suzuki] The Hold
1996 story. Written by Koji Suzuki
Despite a steady income as a fisherman, Hiroyuki Inagaki's life is a nightmare of alcohol and anger. His once abusive father has gone senile and slumps around the house, munching on a steady diet of jelly rolls. His daughter has developed a speech impediment that's keeping her from school. And his son, Katsumi, is a quiet, apologetic boy who fears water - blasphemy to a fisherman!
As the story begins, Hiroyuki's dragging his son around the small fishing town where he lives in search of his wife, Nanako, who seems to have left the night before. Hiroyuki can't quite remember what happened. He was drunk at the time. I think that, coupled with Hiroyuki's sudden dread of his boat's hold (aka "the well" - a familiar Suzuki image) pretty much solves the mystery of where she went. But that's not the main thrust of the story, so its predictability doesn't do much harm.
No, this is a tale of cyclical abuse. Hiroyuki, who was abandoned by his mother and abused by his father, finds himself abandoned by his wife and the abuser of his boy. It's obvious and a little heavy-handed on Suzuki's part, but still well told, with Hiroyuki's fear and doubt in regards to his own son's upbringing constantly buried by flashes of irrational rage. My problem is the ending. For two reasons.
One, the cyclical violence is further explored as Hiroyuki comes to a bizarre revelation about the disappearance of his mother and the reason for his father's senility. I see where Suzuki's going, trying to further the karmic metaphor, but it's forced.
Second, a gripping, psychological study lapses, in its final two pages, to the supernatural. Suzuki was on a roll. Sure, it's not the most original story ever told, but Hiroyuki, while an unsympathetic ass, is interesting fodder for examination and, as with all Suzuki tales, the characters are grounded in a rich, detailed, real world. Most of that is lost with a final, parting image that throws everything for a loop.
Those issues aside, it's still a good story. Wouldn't hurt to check it out.
This story is collected in the Koji Suzuki anthology Dark Water, which is available in English in trade paperback and hardcover formats. For more information, visit the anthology's page at the Vertical, Inc. website, or its Wikipedia page.
Despite a steady income as a fisherman, Hiroyuki Inagaki's life is a nightmare of alcohol and anger. His once abusive father has gone senile and slumps around the house, munching on a steady diet of jelly rolls. His daughter has developed a speech impediment that's keeping her from school. And his son, Katsumi, is a quiet, apologetic boy who fears water - blasphemy to a fisherman!
As the story begins, Hiroyuki's dragging his son around the small fishing town where he lives in search of his wife, Nanako, who seems to have left the night before. Hiroyuki can't quite remember what happened. He was drunk at the time. I think that, coupled with Hiroyuki's sudden dread of his boat's hold (aka "the well" - a familiar Suzuki image) pretty much solves the mystery of where she went. But that's not the main thrust of the story, so its predictability doesn't do much harm.
No, this is a tale of cyclical abuse. Hiroyuki, who was abandoned by his mother and abused by his father, finds himself abandoned by his wife and the abuser of his boy. It's obvious and a little heavy-handed on Suzuki's part, but still well told, with Hiroyuki's fear and doubt in regards to his own son's upbringing constantly buried by flashes of irrational rage. My problem is the ending. For two reasons.
One, the cyclical violence is further explored as Hiroyuki comes to a bizarre revelation about the disappearance of his mother and the reason for his father's senility. I see where Suzuki's going, trying to further the karmic metaphor, but it's forced.
Second, a gripping, psychological study lapses, in its final two pages, to the supernatural. Suzuki was on a roll. Sure, it's not the most original story ever told, but Hiroyuki, while an unsympathetic ass, is interesting fodder for examination and, as with all Suzuki tales, the characters are grounded in a rich, detailed, real world. Most of that is lost with a final, parting image that throws everything for a loop.
Those issues aside, it's still a good story. Wouldn't hurt to check it out.
This story is collected in the Koji Suzuki anthology Dark Water, which is available in English in trade paperback and hardcover formats. For more information, visit the anthology's page at the Vertical, Inc. website, or its Wikipedia page.
January 9, 2008
[The Works of Koji Suzuki] Solitary Isle
1996 story. Written by Koji Suzuki.
Kensuke Suehiro is a washed-up drop-out who is best friends with his successful peer, Toshihiro Aso. During an evening of drinking and debate, Kensuke learns his friend has left a female companion alone in the car. She is Yukari Nakazawa, a meek member of a local religious cult who drags after Toshihiro despite his frequent verbal abuse. Kensuke is shocked by his friend's repulsive behavior, and even more so when, a couple months later, Toshihiro tells him the tale of how he abandoned Yukari on a small artificial island in Tokyo Bay. Kensuke is uncertain about the event's validity but, before he can learn more, Toshihiro catches a rare cancer and quickly dies.
Nine years later ... hang up a second. It's been nine fucking years and Kensuke hasn't once called the police? Sure, it might be nothing more than a brash break-up lie, but the possibility of its truth has haunted Kensuke all this time, so why hasn't he done a damn thing about it? Heck, you don't want to alert the authorities, then do what Toshihiro did and sneak out to the island at night to see for yourself! Suzuki's asking me to suspend my disbelief a bit more than I'm willing with this one.
Anyway, nine years later, a former colleague invites Kensuke to join him for an on-site survey of that very same island. And what they discover is ... a spoiler that's doesn't really need to be spoiled in this review.
It's an interesting tale, but the fact that it entirely hinges upon Kensuke's aforementioned inability to alert authorities pretty much kills it.
Another strike against the story is Yukari's cult. There's no development, almost no reason for it to be there other than setting up the idea of a solitary paradise which is eventually used against her. And there's an added twist to this belief on the last page which I didn't entirely buy.
In the end, it's still a decent story. If you like Suzuki, go ahead and give it a go. None of the logic issue are any worse than some he's used in the past. If you hate Suzuki, it's more of the same.
This story is collected in the Koji Suzuki anthology Dark Water, which is available in English in trade paperback and hardcover formats. For more information, visit the anthology's page at the Vertical, Inc. website, or its Wikipedia page.
Kensuke Suehiro is a washed-up drop-out who is best friends with his successful peer, Toshihiro Aso. During an evening of drinking and debate, Kensuke learns his friend has left a female companion alone in the car. She is Yukari Nakazawa, a meek member of a local religious cult who drags after Toshihiro despite his frequent verbal abuse. Kensuke is shocked by his friend's repulsive behavior, and even more so when, a couple months later, Toshihiro tells him the tale of how he abandoned Yukari on a small artificial island in Tokyo Bay. Kensuke is uncertain about the event's validity but, before he can learn more, Toshihiro catches a rare cancer and quickly dies.
Nine years later ... hang up a second. It's been nine fucking years and Kensuke hasn't once called the police? Sure, it might be nothing more than a brash break-up lie, but the possibility of its truth has haunted Kensuke all this time, so why hasn't he done a damn thing about it? Heck, you don't want to alert the authorities, then do what Toshihiro did and sneak out to the island at night to see for yourself! Suzuki's asking me to suspend my disbelief a bit more than I'm willing with this one.
Anyway, nine years later, a former colleague invites Kensuke to join him for an on-site survey of that very same island. And what they discover is ... a spoiler that's doesn't really need to be spoiled in this review.
It's an interesting tale, but the fact that it entirely hinges upon Kensuke's aforementioned inability to alert authorities pretty much kills it.
Another strike against the story is Yukari's cult. There's no development, almost no reason for it to be there other than setting up the idea of a solitary paradise which is eventually used against her. And there's an added twist to this belief on the last page which I didn't entirely buy.
In the end, it's still a decent story. If you like Suzuki, go ahead and give it a go. None of the logic issue are any worse than some he's used in the past. If you hate Suzuki, it's more of the same.
This story is collected in the Koji Suzuki anthology Dark Water, which is available in English in trade paperback and hardcover formats. For more information, visit the anthology's page at the Vertical, Inc. website, or its Wikipedia page.
January 4, 2008
[The Works of Koji Suzuki] Floating Water
1996 story. Written by Koji Suzuki.
Following a divorce, Yoshimi Mitsuba and her 5-year-old daughter Ikuko have spent the last three months making a life for themselves in a small apartment. During a trip to the roof to light off some fireworks, they discover a Hello Kitty bag.
What follows is a creepy, unnerving story which definitely stands as one of Suzuki's better horror pieces. The bag makes a few return visits, her daughter starts talking to an invisible friend in the bathtub, elevators move on their own, shadows and presences abound ... and it all leads to a little girl who's family moved out of the building several years prior following an unexpected tragedy.
While he piles a few too many scares in a sequence near the middle, and a vision at the end hammers things home a bit more than necessary, it's all quite well executed and Suzuki earns bonus points for building a rich, real life around Yoshimi that adds a nice worldliness to the material.
I feel an interesting point of debate arises with the ending. In the story, it all comes to a close with a revelation about the dead girl's tragic resting place. Suzuki handles it beautifully, setting up Yoshimi as an obsessive, phobic individual who eventually comes face to face with her worst, most repulsive fear.
The films, on the other hand, follow Ring traditions and keep the ghost around for a further twist which plays on some simple "mommy" issues. While nicely executed in the Japanese version, I don't feel any of it's really necessary. A woman who hates filth finds that she's unknowingly exposed both herself and her daughter to the worst kind. That's all the ending you need right there and it's a shame neither film made much use of it.
This story is collected in the Koji Suzuki anthology Dark Water, which is available in English in trade paperback and hardcover formats. For more information, visit the antology's official page at the Vertical, Inc. website, or its page at Wikipedia.
Following a divorce, Yoshimi Mitsuba and her 5-year-old daughter Ikuko have spent the last three months making a life for themselves in a small apartment. During a trip to the roof to light off some fireworks, they discover a Hello Kitty bag.
What follows is a creepy, unnerving story which definitely stands as one of Suzuki's better horror pieces. The bag makes a few return visits, her daughter starts talking to an invisible friend in the bathtub, elevators move on their own, shadows and presences abound ... and it all leads to a little girl who's family moved out of the building several years prior following an unexpected tragedy.
While he piles a few too many scares in a sequence near the middle, and a vision at the end hammers things home a bit more than necessary, it's all quite well executed and Suzuki earns bonus points for building a rich, real life around Yoshimi that adds a nice worldliness to the material.
I feel an interesting point of debate arises with the ending. In the story, it all comes to a close with a revelation about the dead girl's tragic resting place. Suzuki handles it beautifully, setting up Yoshimi as an obsessive, phobic individual who eventually comes face to face with her worst, most repulsive fear.
The films, on the other hand, follow Ring traditions and keep the ghost around for a further twist which plays on some simple "mommy" issues. While nicely executed in the Japanese version, I don't feel any of it's really necessary. A woman who hates filth finds that she's unknowingly exposed both herself and her daughter to the worst kind. That's all the ending you need right there and it's a shame neither film made much use of it.
This story is collected in the Koji Suzuki anthology Dark Water, which is available in English in trade paperback and hardcover formats. For more information, visit the antology's official page at the Vertical, Inc. website, or its page at Wikipedia.
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