As much as I am a fan of crime fiction, I am not a fan of true crime books. No doubt the problem lies deep within my psyche and my need for escape from reality. But having said as much, once I delved into Tokyo Vice, I was engrossed in Adelstein's personal story of life as a gaijin crime reporter in one of the world's great metropolises. Adelstein begins his story with how he first came to be employed by the Yomiuri Shinbun, the most influential and respected newspaper in Japan. In doing so, he allows the reader to come up to speed along with him on cultural differences (never wear a black suit to a job interview in Japan) and also to become enlightened - or perhaps burdened is the correct word - as he learns the nature and depth of corruption in that most polite and courteous of civilizations. What's truly wonderful about this book is the very natural voice Adelstein uses to describe the 80-hour work weeks, the justice system, and the intense dedication and competition of investigative journalism in Tokyo. By natural, I mean that Adelstein's prose reads like he's talking to you, the reader, explaining and conversing instead of just transcribing notes.
And for every mobster, every monster, every depraved character the author encounters, he reveals something of his own nature, as every good writer must if his story is to find its way to the reader's heart. Because for every villain, there is a victim. The heartbreaking story around the disappearance of Lucie Blackman needs no purple prose, the kind often found in true crime tales, prose designed to titillate the reader's sense of horror. No, Adelstein tells the events of that case in good reportorial fashion, and the facts alone level a dramatic impact sufficient to wring our emotions.
Every good story, fact or fiction, has many layers, and Tokyo Vice has those layers. From cultural adaptation to an expose of crime, corruption, and social decadence, to personal moral and ethical dilemmas, Adelstein's story covers ten years of his life; ten years that made his life, in a world few Americans can ever hope to see or understand. And while the author is justifiably proud of his journalistic accomplishments, he does not even spare himself when it comes to getting the truth down on paper. Tokyo Vice isn't a book where the reporter goes home with a Pulitzer and writes his memoirs. It's a story where the reporter sits down, looks in a mirror and asks himself the really hard questions. And he won't always like the answers.
Disclosure notice: A copy of this book was provided by the publisher (or his agent) at no charge to me. The publisher (or his agent) neither stipulated nor received from me any promise that the book would be the subject of an endorsement or review, either positive or negative.
This sounds like fascinating read, Corey. I like true crime stories so something like this, along with its mix of cultures, is right up my alley. It's not crime related, but if you enjoyed the American in Japan angle, you mind also enjoy Angry White Pyjamas: A Scrawny Oxford Poet Takes Lessons From The Tokyo Riot Police. There's obviously more humor in it, but the documented culture shock and examination makes for an interesting read. Not that I'm trying to make your TBR pile any larger than it already is. Because of your great review of this work, I'll likely be adding to mine, though. Thanks, Corey.
ReplyDeleteI'm all for humor, Michael. I'll add that book to the list of recommended reads.
ReplyDeleteAlthough I also found it an interesting read and finished it within a few days, I found myself farther and farther from Jake emotionally as the book progressed. In some ways that made the book less satisfying for me, although it clearly was something jake wanted to share. I found myself wondering why his wife has not yet filed on him; she must be a more forgiving person than the women I know.
ReplyDeleteRelationships aren't easily reduced to ink on paper. The dynamics of their relationship could probably never be fully understood by anyone but Jake and his wife. I can't pretend to know why such relationships go on well past their sell-by date. I do know Jake's excesses and failures didn't distance him from me, even though I couldn't identify with his behavior either. I just found him sadly human.
ReplyDeleteI'll agree on both counts of the book being an interesting read and also found myself feeling very distance from Jake by the closure of the book. It seems like he fully entrenched himself in the world he was covering and managed to get someone very dear to him hurt.
ReplyDeleteBy the end of the book I felt very angry at Jake, and was very depressed concerning the outcome with his important source (not trying to give too much away).
Yes, the information about that important source was tragic. And what happened - or what we think happened - was just so unnecessary.
ReplyDeleteHaving just finished the audiobook of this, I now understand the comments. Still, your review Corey was very accurate and an excellent summary of what the author wrote/experienced, and it's no less haunting. I understand your thinking about true crime books, especially if one finds themselves becoming engrossed with the subject or the people of the tale. The cultural differences between people always fascinates me, though. This book certainly engaged me intellectually, and by the end, emotionally. Thanks for drawing me to it, Corey.
ReplyDeleteAlways a pleasure, Michael. I'm not sure that had a similar story been told about a culture more easily understood to me as a westerner, whether I would have been as engrossed.
ReplyDeleteThe info in the book was soso, the egotrip spectacular. I can't help but feeling sorry for his family. It seems the gentleman has his priorities totally mixed up. Imperialist style journalism with the good old messianic complex. Rather odd, just a small step up from the scary and emotionally immature Roppongi loving english teacher.
ReplyDelete