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The latest addition to our Reviews Section is a piece by Will Eells on Kotaro Isaka’s Remote Control, translated from the Japanese and published by Kodansha International.

(Quick side-note: the sucks. That’s all I have to say about that. I’m out of witty attacks for today.)

Will Eells is: a ���Ĵ�ý student getting a certificate in Literary Translation Studies, a promising young Japanese translator, one of our contributing reviewers (thanks NYSCA for the funding to make this possible), and a very enthusiastic reader of international fiction.

Kotaro Isaka has written a number of novels, but I believe this is the only one to be published in English translation. In Japan though, his novels have received quite a bit of praise and attention, starting with the wonderfully named Foreign Duck, Native Duck Coin-locker, which won the Eiji Yoshikawa Newcomer���Ĵ�ý�s Prize for Literature. He has also been nominated on four occasions for the Naoki Prize, which is given to “the best work of popular literature in any format by a new, rising, or (reasonably young) established author.” According to Wikipedia, “the winner receives a watch and one million yen.” The four nominated titles are: Gravity Clown, Children and Grasshopper, Accuracy of Death, and Desert. He won the Honya Taisho in 2008 for Golden Slumber (aka Remote Control).

Here’s the opening of Will’s review:

I���Ĵ�ý�m just going to fess up right now: I���Ĵ�ý�m a bit of a culture snob. I can���Ĵ�ý�t help it. I don���Ĵ�ý�t know what happened in my upbringing that led me to be this way ���Ĵ�ý� that I can���Ĵ�ý�t check out a summer blockbuster without reading the reviews first, that I prefer listening to the local college or independent radio station to KISS (at least when I don���Ĵ�ý�t have my iPod and car adaptor on me) ���Ĵ�ý� but at this point all I can do is play with the hand I was dealt. With books, this means that my elitism extends to the point that I can���Ĵ�ý�t even look at any sort of mystery, crime novel, or thriller without a hefty dose of cynicism and distance. I don���Ĵ�ý�t even really know why that is; maybe we should call it the “James Patterson exhaustion” effect. But I���Ĵ�ý�m pretty sure that in the history of my book-reading life, I can only recall maybe three books that I���Ĵ�ý�ve read that fall under this category: Agatha Christie���Ĵ�ý�s And Then There Were None, Natsuo Kirino���Ĵ�ý�s Out, and (I guess if you consider it a psychological thriller) Ryu Murakami���Ĵ�ý�s Piercing. I was pretty lukewarm about all of these.

In my defense, I realize this is an annoying and extremely close-minded way to experience the world, and I couldn���Ĵ�ý�t possibly proclaim that everything I���Ĵ�ý�ve ever enjoyed was of the highest cultural value. But I say all of this to preface my review of Kotaro Isaka���Ĵ�ý�s conspiracy thriller Remote Control, and admit that its target audience was probably not me.

But lo and behold! It was actually pretty good.

Remote Control takes place in a possibly now, possibly near-future Japan, where the city of Sendai has been outfitted with ���Ĵ�ý�Security Pods���Ĵ�ý� in all public areas that can capture 24-hour surveillance in all directions, and can record and track nearby cell phone activity. It is here that the newly elected Prime Minister is assassinated during a parade by a bomb flown in by remote control helicopter. All evidence points to former deliveryman and accidental-actress-rescuing media darling Masaharu Aoyagi as the culprit in the assassination. But is he really the criminal everyone thinks he is?

Click here to read the full piece.