Genres of writing are different tools to question the world. Like science fiction is used to question the big concerns for future and the universe, detective novels are used to question humanity and psychology and society. Though of course science fiction can also be used to question humanity, which is I believe a big part of science fiction, however, detective novels are questioning humanity on quite a smaller scale, and I believe that is also more effective. For the questioning of humanity in science fiction has got to have something to do with the future, perhaps a crime related to a future technology, perhaps the madness the world sinks into at times of crisis. However, the detective novels are here and now, it is a question posed to the criminal inside every one of us. One might call it childish to read detective novels, but a detective novel writer really did his job, he should be providing to some degree, literature to this world.
Higashino's books, I would not say are too literary works, for most of his books, are of simple descriptions but a strong plot. However, I do believe this book contained both and was done very beautifully. Japan has lots of other famous detective novel writers, mostly a few decades ago, so written very elegantly and precisely and dramatically. But yet again, if we are to challenge humanity and display it to the people of the 21st century, I believe a language closer to our time will be more suitable. For it makes the sense of distance fade, and all that's left will be the true question of who we are, not just who some guy a century ago was like. Someone can write about a crime a century ago, but the impact that these detective novelists seek will not be found in the words of past, but in the language of the humans now. We have to challenge the criminal as not only an individual but also the individual's role in a society, and society changes, so, books will too, for writers gain inspirations from the world around them.
Higashino told a story of around twenty years, and in these twenty years, new technologies appeared, and new crime opportunities have risen, such as the illegal selling of video games. These crimes get bigger and bigger because it went from Space Invaders to Mario, and the reason for people's preferences in them is because of some ancient things in their genes: The attraction to colors, the desire to rid of boredom. All these parts of humanity are displayed with new technology, yet was not quite seen clearly, nobody saw how much they are helping crime, and even if they did, they didn't care, for people are as selfish as the criminals who sold them. As human. But what does that have to do with the modern society? Well, we are entering an age where pleasure dominates the truth. We are fed all these dizzying information that our minds overload and chooses to filter into the candies in the pile of vegetables, the pleasures, the things the bodies sees best. We are in an age of spin, of frenzy, of a time where criminals can easily manipulate the humans in people. They are the fishermen and we are the fish. I find it very funny that in a place like Japan, where it is very orderly and polite, such things can still happen on such a large scale. Though yet again, it is the age of spin, and heritage and traditions can be thrown out the window by the new generation for the new world. But the new world is very, very empty, and if one lives in the forever present at a time like this, who knows where one will be?
Like Christians seek for the bible, we should all seek for some knowledge in the world a little less crazy, a little clearer so that at last we will see the light of day, and not walk into the white night.
Do not go gentle into that good night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
-Dylan Thomas