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12 of 14 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Inspector O is a reading pleasure!, March 26, 2009
Bamboo and Blood by James Church is "an Inspector O" novel. I did not know what that meant when I picked it up but I soon found out. The prologue starts, "The Russians... think they are the only ones who know the cold," then jumps right into action.
I've been reading mysteries placed in Red China, Thailand, and now, with Inspector O, in Red Korea. Who knew it would be so entertaining, so warm, so enigmatic, so humorous? (Not giving away the plot here, OK?) Suffice it to say missles are involved (somewhat) and that I'm going to read more by the author, James Church.
Church's bio asserts a) His name's a pseudonym, b) He was with Western intelligence for decades in Asia, and c) Many of the events in the story really happened. That's nice but what I care about is the story engaged me from the start and I want to read more. All good mysteries have a mystery, yes, it's how they work, but the reason we read them is the milieu, characters, surprises, new perspectives.
I remember the same thrill first reading Len Deighton's novels about East and West Berlin. That's the closest I can come to sharing the feel of Bamboo and Blood, except now it's North and South Korea.
Inspector O is a reading pleasure!
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5 of 5 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Enigmatic as the country, April 20, 2009
The idea of a North Korean inspector/detective is great. We (in the West) have trouble imagining earnest, hard-working investigators working to solve crimes in a nation that does not follow the rule of law. That is the first and primary paradox in both the Inspecter O series and the Gorky Park type books set in the former USSR. The author depicts a totalitarian stranglehold where the army spies on the police, schools are empty because teachers and students are quietly starving to death, orders can mean the opposite of what they say and innocence can mean guilt. It is a land of subtlety and nuance as is the book. The ever-present drabness and bitter cold was an integral part of the psyche, yet another obstacle to overcome in order to survive. The story (***** Warning - Plot talk - ******) centers around talks on North Korean atomic weapons and attempts to either advance or derail the talks. All the while, Israeli agents attempt to offer a trade: Cessation of missile technology in exchange for money and aid. In the midst of the cloak and dagger sleuthing, Inspector O is told to investigate the death of a woman who may have been in Pakistan. He is given no details. In other words, he is NOT to dig too deeply. He travels to New York and Zurich, observing the abundance of the West with distant melancholy. Yet he refuses to defect, whether out of duty, honor or lack of choice we can't be sure. As he probes deeper, he must watch the shifting alliances within the regime, each scheming to survive the long, dark winter. The search for loyalties is as difficult as the elusive search for the dead woman. My Grade - A+
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7 of 8 people found the following review helpful:
3.0 out of 5 stars
Mixed Bag, July 10, 2009
It was a mixed bag for me. Yes, the guy can write. He has wit and some depth and he knows his wood. What he can't do is make much of the action plausible. He may have been a former spy, certainly not a former English teacher, for he embraces the "fallacy of imitative form," which is to say that in order to portray the cryptic, he writes cryptically. This does not work out well for the reader in terms of comprehension. In his head I suppose it all makes sense, but in mine, it doesn't. There are too many "why's" for me: Why didn't O know who Sohn was? I did. Why was Dilara even involved? Just so O could have some sex and be hit on the head? Rather irrelevant and not funny. I mean, she isn't even described. Why would M. Beret be an assumed name when his actual name and position are public knowledge? What's with the stupid woman on the bench who thought O was Chinese? Irrelevant and superfluous. Just as was O's trip to NY.
But the author's most tiresome habit (besides a love affair with non sequiturs) is interspersing a great deal of prose between normal dialogue: Let's say a character asks, "What are your reasons?" Here will follow descriptions of weather, street, facial tics, funny remarks, philosophical statements, observations of character for 100-200 words. Paragraph. Then, "They are not for you to know." Hmmm, what isn't for you to know? So you have to hurry back up to the first sentence of the preceeding paragraph in order to remind yourself of how the dialogue started. Of course, it doesn't stay with you because the interspersed prose is so riveting.
Who is the mutual friend who sent O the wood? I could come up with at least three possibilities, none of them terribly fitting. Why does O burn the wood? The girl murdered in Pakistan is a shaggy dog. Really, the entire book is about a low level inspector being surprised to be chosen to go to Geneva to pass along exactly one sentence to the Americans. That's it. Instead, he delivers his sentence to the Swiss but does not repeat it word for word, which is odd, especially since his boss loves code. Then he returns to North Korea fairly clueless.
The cold (it's either raining or snowing) permeates the book, as does the despair and dullness of the citizens of NK and this also leaks out to the reader. There is not one happy or near-normal person in the book. It suffers due to the very lack of contrast. Unrelenting depression and anxiety can eventually be tuned out -- which I did -- but I couldn't have done it had these moods been expanded with contrasting upbeat qualities like joy or playfulness, at least a few times.
For me, the characters were so opaque that they and the book never came to life. Yet I truly enjoyed a great deal of the author's prose. It was the little originalities that delighted me: Says O, "I told you I lost my temper. Not lost, actually. More like I folded it up and calmly put it in my pocket." I will do that with Bamboo and Blood.
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