In A Corpse in the Koryo, James Church introduced readers to one of the most unique detectives to appear on page in years — the elusive Inspector O. The stunning mystery was named one of the best mystery/thrillers of 2006 by the Chicago Tribune for its beautifully spare prose and layered descriptions of a terrain Church knows by heart.
And now the Inspector is back. In Hidden Moon, Inspector O returns from a mission abroad to find his new police commander waiting at his office door. There has been a bank robbery — the first ever in Pyongyang — and the commander demands action, and quickly. But is this urgency for real? Somewhere, someone in the North Korean leadership doesn’t want Inspector O to complete his investigation. And why not? What if the robbery leads to the highest levels of the regime? What if power, not a need for cash, is the real reason behind the heist at the Gold Star Bank?
Given a choice, this isn’t a trail a detective in the Pyongyang police would want to follow all the way to the end, even a trail marked with monogrammed silk stockings. “I’m not sure I know where the bank is,” is O’s laconic observation as the warning bells go off in his head. A Scottish policeman sent to provide security for a visiting British official, a sultry Kazakh bank manager, and a mournful fellow detective all combine to put O in the middle of a spiderweb of conspiracies that becomes more tangled, and dangerous, the more he pulls on the threads.
Once again, as he did in ACorpse in the Koryo, James Church opens a window onto a society where nothing is quite as it seems. The story serves as the reader’s flashlight,illuminating a place that outsiders imagine is always dark and too far away to know. Church’s descriptions of the country and its people are spare and starkly beautiful; the dialogue is lean, every thought weighed and measured before it is spoken. Not a word is wasted, because in this place no one can afford to be misunderstood.
James Church is the pseudonym of the author of four detective novels featuring a North Korean policeman, "Inspector O." Church is identified on the back cover of his novels as "a former Western intelligence officer with decades of experience in Asia". He grew up in the San Fernando Valley in the United States and was over 60 years old in 2009. His "Inspector O" novels have been well-received, being noted by Asia specialists for offering "an unusually nuanced and detailed portrait" of North Korean society. A Korea Society panel praised the first book in the series for its realism and its ability to convey "the suffocating atmosphere of a totalitarian state". A panelist as well as The Independent's and the Washington Post's reviewers compared the protagonist to Arkady Renko, the Soviet chief inspector in Martin Cruz Smith's Gorky Park, for providing "a vivid window into a mysterious country".
”Over the years, completely out of channels, a classification system for cases had grown up among the sector-level inspectors. The Ministry often sent down memos warning against the use of this unsanctioned system, only reinforcing suspicions that it was pretty close to accurate. Category one cases were simple enough--those we were expected to investigate and, where possible solve. Category two cases were those we were expected to be seen as investigating but not to solve. Category three cases were those we were to avoid--leave every stone unturned. In fact, for a category three case, it was best not even to record that there were any stones, No records, no files, no nothing.”
They are always watching.
We all live with various levels of paranoia. In the United States our cell phone conversations are monitored, our visual images are captured almost everywhere we go, and if there is any part of our life that is not observable by the government there is always a little old lady, with the twitchy curtains, living in every neighborhood just waiting for someone to ask her what she knows. We all work with a certain number of people that are always looking for something to report to a higher authority or at least some tidbit that can be turned into an interesting piece of malicious gossip. Now take that times a hundred and you have Pyongyang, North Korea. There are over 3,000,000 people in the capital of North Korea and when you look at the cityscape it looks like well... a city, but it is actually split up into all these districts that have layers upon layers of various levels of authority so complex that the people making up those levels/layers are often confused about who is really in charge of what.
The one thing that everyone understands is that it is the duty of every single North Korean citizen to keep an eye on their neighbors, family, friends, and co-workers. If there is someone in your district that you don’t know, report it immediately or you will be answering questions as to why you didn’t.
One benefit of this system is that crime is almost impossible to get away with unless of course it falls under Category three.
When Inspector O is asked to investigate a bank robbery, he has a feeling it must be a category three or at least a category two because bank robberies simply do not happen in North Korea. The bank manager is a wasp-waisted beautiful Kazakhstani/Korean woman with a Scottish (British) passport. Why she is in North Korea is a head scratcher indeed? If it doesn’t make sense it is definitely cause for suspicion. He tries to ask her some questions about the robbery, but her response makes it clear that he should start thinking of this as a category three.
”If you start harassing me I’ll file a complaint that will dump you in a pig farm so far away you’ll have to check a map each time you take a crap.”
Goodness me, so she might be beautiful with that tiny waist that is inspiring so much daydreaming in the mind of Inspector O, but she is no lady. She is a muddled puzzle piece that will defy placement in the scope of the picture until nearly the end of the book. The threat of the pig farm is a real one. When someone messes up by saying the wrong thing to the wrong person or creates too many problems for someone that is better connected than they are that person might well find themselves “volunteering” for farm work.
The pin Inspector O is supposed to wear all the time, but it never leaves his desk drawer.
Inspector O works a bit outside the system. He has more latitude than the average citizen given that his grandfather was a true hero of the war. As the book progresses and he finds himself strapped to a chair taking hits from an ash baton, wielded by people from some obscure branch of the security hierarchy, he realizes that his grandfather’s heroism might be wearing a little too thin to continue to shield him.
Wood is a continual theme throughout this book. Inspector O has an affinity for wood and collects the bits and pieces that come his way during an investigation. He has plans to build bookshelves that will never be built, but drawing the blueprints are just a way for him to escape the daily grind, to focus his mind on something other than the heavy handed bureaucracies of his country and to not think about the closet sized confines of his room.
I fished in my pockets for some wood and came up with a piece of walnut. I held it up with what must have been a look of surprise on my face. “Something wrong, Inspector?” “This is walnut.” “If you say so.” “I don’t know why I’m even carrying it around. There’s a certain smugness to walnut that you can feel.” “I hadn’t realized.” “My grandfather used to look at a piece of walnut and say. ‘Ugly.’ He claimed walnut needed discipline, Too many people say. ‘Oh how beautiful,’ every time they see walnut burl, and they ended up spoiling the wood, that’s what he thought.”
The plot is convoluted and I found myself as confused as Inspector O with this cast of characters and their role in ongoing concerns: a Scottish “investigator” James Boswell, a Russian who sells blackmarket panty hose, the man in the brown suit with the ash baton, the Kazakhstani/Korean woman with the tiny waist, a blind monk, a dead gangster who wasn’t a gangster, a man with a long scar on his cheek that is most assuredly a gangster, a restaurant owner who keeps dropping hints to be asked out, an undercover security woman with the almost moon face that makes O’s hands sweaty, two German businessmen, and a visiting dignitary that may or may not be targeted for assassination.
"People think that the truth is bulky, like a big package. More often, it comes in small drops, like rain from the eaves. You can listen to it all night long, but in the morning when you go outside, there might not be anything there."
“James Church” (pseudonym) pulls it all together in the end. Church is a mystery in himself. ”He is a former Western intelligence officer with decades of experience in Asia. He has wandered through Korea for years. No matter what hat he wore, Church says, he ran across Inspector O many times.”
James Church
Church really does an excellent job making the reader feel the suffocating atmosphere of a totalitarian state. This is the second book in the series and like the first book I could feel the compression on my brain, the need to guard my tongue at all times, and the weight of so many judgmental eyes waiting for me to do something worth reporting. Inspector O lives in an apartment the size of a closet and the landlady is the eyes and ears of building. Every conversation regardless of how inane is a cause for worry. Questions are like bullets. Your answers are blades to force you to compromise and to elicit further confessions. The state is willing to use anything they can as a wedge issue. They govern by fear and blackmail. Travel is almost impossible and when you do travel you better have the proper paperwork, because you will be stopped over and over again by those layers of oppressive security that keep everyone “safe” and take away every last scrap of freedom. You are only free in your own mind and when there don’t let the pleasure show on your face.
I hate to admit this, but Dennis “The Worm” Rodman’s recent embarrassing visit to North Korea prompted me to remember this series. It has been several years since I read the first one and I certainly will not take as long in the future to queue the rest of the books up to read.
Hidden Moon is the second in James Church's Inspector O series, police procedurals set in North Korea. (I haven't read the first book in the series and didn't at any point feel as though I was missing context or that characters had previously developed relationships not explained by this novel.)
What I loved? The setting, having a window on North Korea, and something to replace Orphan Son as my only information on this fascinating, close society. Inspector O - a great character endeavoring to function in a culture where any word or no word can get one hauled off for an interrogation with, perhaps, a little physical abuse on the side. He's the only reliable narrator in this book. Not because the author is playing games with the reader, but because a prudent person in North Korea doesn't volunteer information or disclose any more than necessary, and sometimes misdirection is the wise choice. Last, Church's dialogue rings true. It is spare and beautiful and authentic, reflecting his knowledge of the cultural and political terrain.
What I didn't love? The plot was circuitous to the point of being frustrating. It's as if Church never intended to explain what happened with the ostensible bank robbery which framed the novel. I found several of the characters to be so lightly drawn that I couldn't recall who was whom and what their connections were, and this is a book I read over a 5 day period.
I may read another Inspector O novel - because I find him, and North Korea fascinating - but it won't be a top priority to find one.
This is the second Inspector O book. These books are so odd. The plot is not a straight-forward murder investigation; it's wrapped up in the politics of North Korea. Very interesting. The author (who uses a pseudonym) used to be some sort of covert agent in North Korea so the details and the atmosphere of the novel ring true. It's a very bleak and joyless place, Pyongyang, North Korea. Inspector O doesn't seem to get paid very often and when he eats his noodle soup at this diner, the owner doesn't expect payment because no one seems to have any money. Very odd. How does she buy noodles to sell then? Maybe they work more on a barter system. This is not a casual, brain candy book. It's difficult reading, not because it is boring, but because you really have to pay attention. A lot of things are going on and you have to be on your toes to keep track of it all. Inspector O, for all of his hardships, has a certain wry sense of humor about his life and the way politics affect his life/career (usually negatively). Highly recommend if you want some challenge to your reading.
In some ways, advances in science and in transportation and communications have given us the impression that there are few mysteries left in the world. After all, we can go anywhere, exchange views with almost anyone anywhere in the world, and gain access to information about what seems to be just about anything through the World Wide Web. But there is one very large stretch of territory that holds little else but mysteries: the rogue nation of North Korea.
An education about North Korea
Several excellent nonfiction books have cast light on that isolated corner of the planet in recent years. Barbara Deming’s Nothing to Envy illuminated the reality of day-to-day life for ordinary North Koreans. North Korea Confidential by Daniel Tudor and James Pearson exposed the enormous gray market that constitutes the bulk of the country’s shriveled economy. Blaine Harden’s The Great Leader and the Fighter Pilot helped us understand the origins of the North Korean state and the character of its leaders. Paul Fischer’s book, A Kim Jong-Il Production, told a revealing story about the country’s elite under the father of the nation’s current dictator. Escape from Camp 14, an earlier book by Blaine Harden, plunged into the country’s notorious network of prison camps. (Though details in the story were later revealed to be false, the essential reality depicted in Harden’s book remains unchallenged.)
Fiction fills in the blanks
No matter how good they are, and several of these books are outstanding, journalistic treatments about life in North Korea usually can’t convey the feel of daily life the way fiction can. A captivating, Pulitzer-winning novel by Adam Johnson, The Orphan Master’s Son, imaginatively filled in the gaps in our understanding of the country. Though less ambitious, the detective novels in James Church’s Inspector O series add depth to that understanding. A Corpse in the Koryo, the first Inspector O book, was a worthy effort that brought to light the sheer uncertainty of life in that beleaguered country. Hidden Moon, the second Inspector O novel, does an even better job.
Uncertainty compounded by ambiguity mixed with constant fear
Hidden Moon is a study of North Korean psychology as much as it is a detective story. Here is Inspector O musing about the assignment he has been given to solve the case of North Korea’s first bank robbery: “In a heartbeat, I knew we didn’t want to get saddled with this case. The lack of entry in the duty log could have been an oversight. But if everything else Min [his boss] had said so far was true, the Ministry wasn’t remotely interested in a solution as such; they wanted a political problem solved for political reasons, having to do with the current tides in the capital. Ocean tides were reliable and predictable, pretty much a function of the moon. Political tides were more complicated, and usually more dangerous.”
Min concurs: “‘It seems to me that this isn’t going to get solved, not at our level, and we would be doing ourselves a big favor to let it expire from inattention.'” Inspector O knows that ���now it appeared we had a body, and that would complicate matters. When there was a body, there was liable to be paperwork, and if there was paperwork, boxes would have to be checked.” And who knew what horrible fate might rain down on their modest little department if the wrong boxes were checked?
The question in both their minds is which of three categories the bank robbery and subsequent events would fall into. “Category one cases were simple enough — those we were expected to investigate and, where possible, solve. Category two cases were those we were expected to be seen as investigating but not to solve. Category three cases were those we were to avoid — leave every stone unturned.” Both O and Min fear that the current case falls into category three.
Later, the two men’s fear has been confirmed: “Until Min actually ordered me off, formally, I had to keep following footprints leading nowhere. At least I had to hope they led nowhere. If by accident I stumbled on a real clue, it would be nothing but trouble.”
A deeply puzzling murder mystery
Don’t get me wrong: Hidden Moon isn’t just about the doubts and fears of two policemen thrust into an uncomfortable and probably untenable position. It’s a highly suspenseful detective novel. Other than Min and Inspector O, other key characters have only one thing in common: none are who or what they seem to be. Unlike those familiar old English whodunits, this is a mystery that is impossible for the reader to puzzle out before the very end. Read this book, and you’ll share Inspector O’s confusion and uncertainty — and learn a great deal about life in North Korea in the process.
About the author
James Church has written five Inspector O novels to date. Because I read books on my Kindle, I was interested to read this about him in Wikipedia: “Church is identified on the back cover of his novels as ‘a former Western intelligence officer with decades of experience in Asia.’ He grew up in the San Fernando Valley in the United States, and was over sixty years old in 2009.” Presumably, with this background, Church knows at least a little of what we writes about North Korea.
A wonderfully noir murder mystery set in modern day North Korea. There is plenty of cultural and political detail, but the characters are what drive this story. The narrator is the very Sam Spade-like Inspector O, a perceptive, sardonic man who appreciates good food, good liquor, and beautiful women, but prizes his solitary life. He has a thing about wood - don't ask. There are also bankers and Scotsmen and Germans and noodle cooks and bartenders and blind men and Kazakhs and Russians and a very important pair of silk stockings.
Beyond the characters and the intricate storyline, there is the dialog and the beautiful phrasing. Sentences like "I needed a moment to lock all the doors to my memory" and "...I blinked against the darkness and fell through a loose board in my consciousness" make me positively swoon. Well, 'swoon' is a pretty strong verb. Let's just say I really, really like the writing in this book, and plan to read James Church's prior novel immediately, if not sooner.
The second in the Inspector O series, this book looks at North Korea in a different light than "The Orphan Master's Son". Church is described as a former Western intelligence officer with extensive Eastern experiences, writing under a pseudonym. As such his books evoke LeCarre or Graham Greene more than any gun slinger espionage efforts. Since Inspector O is our lead character, there is a strong dose of Ed McBain and the 'police procedural'. In fact, it is the portrait of a civilian police department functioning in a political police state that creates much of the tension and interest. With innuendo the order of the day, no one being trust worthy, an eclectic mix of characters and a squiggly wiggly plot line, this is not for the inattentive reader. For myself, I look forward to reading each of the next three on the shelf. Recommended.
I read the first of the Inspector O series based on Nicholas Kristof's recommendation. (Hidden Moon is the second in this series.) I'll trust Kristof that this series provides a good view of North Korea, although it is an often bleak one, not tempting me to visit. However, Inspector O is smart and cynical, with an arid sense of humor. He observed, "Category 3 [criminal] cases were those we were to avoid—leave every stone unturned. In fact, for a category three case, it was best not even to record that there were any stones. No records, no files, no nothing" (p. 16). In a later conversation he retorted, “Don’t jump to conclusions, it’s bad for your ankles" (p. 30).
This sense of humor may cause you to underestimate Inspector O. Don't. He observes people and situations carefully and draws conclusions that are both accurate and surprising. And, while he knows that Category 3 cases should be avoided at all costs, he cannot. He incurs the costs, we enjoy the spoils.
This is the second book in the Inspector O series by James Church. I read the first book many years ago, during a trip to Korea and I really liked it; I'm surprised that it has taken me so long to get back to the series.
I enjoyed the story, but it was very convoluted and somewhat hard to follow at times. Perhaps I just wasn't paying close enough attention to the audiobook. The narrator,Feodor Chin, does a great job at varying the characters' voices, but sometimes the plot would change so dramatically in between chapters that I would be lost for a few minutes.
Overall, it was a very dramatic and somewhat depressing tale, but I expected no less for a book about life in North Korea, even among the 'elite' class. I will certainly look for more audiobooks for this series at our local library.
Bk 2 with Inspector O in North Korea. A bank robbery is assigned to O but he is not sure if anyone wants it solved or just forgotten. Departments hide facts and no one co-operates. The conflicts and secrecy are so involved that at the end I'm not sure what really happened or who was part of what and did we really resolve anything? If I thought the first in the series was murky, this was impenetrable. I liked it while I was reading it but now I sort of wonder why.
Church's second Inspector O novel struck gold with its dialogue and textured setting, was hit-and-miss with its characters, and was only so-so in developing its plot (sorta felt phoned-in on a spotty line). For me, the novel was a bookshelf whose corners just didn't quite square. You can tell the Church cared about the project, but the pieces just didn't all fit in the end.
This is the second Inspector O novel I've read. I read Corpse in the Koryo and found it equal parts fascinating-- all the internal stuff-- and infuriating-- all the hotel room interrogation sequences, essentially the spy/ geopolitical stuff. So I wanted to read another of Church's novels, to see if the situation changed any once he's laid out the basics.
And the answer? A little confusing, actually. The first half of this book I like a lot more: the mystery was more interesting (a bank robbery leading somehow to a string of murders, some interesting work colleagues for O). But then at a certain point, we're abducted like O into an interrogation chamber where the geopolitical stuff-- or maybe intrapolitical is better?-- and the novel becomes, not exactly byzantine, but not something I enjoyed much.
I want to spin a theory here, about detective stories, that maybe explains why this series keeps failing to capture my interest: in some ways, the cop is the representative of the state, and he fights against those anarchic forces that are outside the state, trying to restore order and heal the community. There are lots of political shades to how this can work, but I think that's essentially the prescription for these kinds of books.
Only in the O novels, it's the state that's the problem, or at least elements of it. It's hard not to see this as unfair on the part of Church, a former US State Dept guy in N Korea-- it seems really obviously propagandistic. But it's also just complicated in terms of where it leaves O. He's not really healing or recuperating or whatever the civic body. Instead he's doing not too much-- I think there's room for nihilism in detective stories, and maybe O could someday go there, but it's not there now. Instead, he's oddly proud of life in the North (which also felt disingenuous, but that's beside the point). It just feels off, somehow, and reality prevents Church from following the logic of his claims-- the overthrow of the regime-- so there's not much for O to do, not much to celebrate, recognize, or appreciate in the crimes he uncovers.
I really wanted to like this book, in part because I've come to really like intelligent detective series that struggle with real issues and introduce me to different cultures (Olen Steinhauer, Jo Nesbo).
While I still think the writer is quite talented in some ways, and while I appreciate the concept and tone of the series, I have the following thoughts:
- For me, this book didn't follow all that well as a follow-up to the first book. Given all that happened in the first novel, I guess I was expecting (or at least hoping for) a little more emotional continuity. While this is frequently the case with "series", it still always irks me.
- Just like the first book, the plot itself ended up falling flat a bit, for me. I spent a lot of time (and interest) trying to figure out what was going on, trying to figure out the characters, trying to figure out the "mysteries", but when the "resolution" comes, it comes fast, and, just like the first book, I'm not sure I really understood it, or found it all that satisfying or interesting. Like the first book, the end was just too confusing (and strangely written) for me. Everyone is double-crossing everyone, everyone ends up dead, and nothing makes much sense (I guess that's the point).
- I may be wrong on this, but at times it just felt to me like a typical hard-boiled American detective transplanted to North Korea, and less like an authentic North Korean detective.
- Like a lot of people, I found the "wood" a little overdone.
I guess I just wanted to like the book more than I did. I still think the writer is really talented in a lot of ways (characterizations, small details, mood) - and I'll continue to read the other books in the series. :)
Okay, I hereby give up on Inspector O. First book was great, second was pretty-to-very good, but this one is just too much of the same - especially the same negatives: overly complex plot, too-clever (and far too many) characters, and an ultimately disappointing ending.
I went in to this with high expectations, since the plot was supposed to focus on a simple bank robbery in Pyongyang, and so I was hoping for a more straightforward story. But alas, not the case. A multitude of characters, plot complexities and way too many references to O's damned wood fragments left me confused and frustrated, and just waiting for it all to end.
Way too clever and complex for its own good, Church needs to remember the KISS principle - Keep It Simple (or at least simpler), Stupid.
The hook that makes this book so compelling also makes it a frustrating read. O doesn't know what political forces are manipulating him, and only wants to know when his survival is at stake. But the book attempts to convey the absurdity of the North Korean state by never revealing these arbitrary forces that move people around. It's interesting, and effectively conveys the absurdity of the North Korean state, but it makes reading the novel occasionally frustrating. In addition to the poverty and famine that pervade North Korean life, this feeling of lack of control of one's own fate must make life there very difficult.
The second book in the Inspector O series and so much better than the first. If you like Colin Cotterill's Dr Siri Paiboun series, you'll love this one. I really enjoy this -- part mystery, part political thriller. The factor of adding a restriction to a good detective story - namely the repressive atmosphere of a dictatorship - adds so much to this.
The detective is a lot of fun too. One aspect I really enjoy is the characterization of the society of Pyongyang. The idea that there are problems with their society, but it doesn't mean they'd want to live anywhere else.
Inspector O is a police detective in North Korea, that murky, little known country. The author, James Church, a pseudonym, was an Asian expert intelligence office for many years. To me the story is fair, but the cautious interaction and suspicions of North Korean government and police officials for each other, and everyone else, makes for an interesting read. No question can ever be given a direct answer. Everything is indirect, allusions, metaphors, etc. It is a tough place to be an official.
Contrary to what some people say, don’t you dare to read this second novel in the series before the first one. I know you’ll miss Chief Inspector Pak, but it will help you understand how such an absurd country can still have some of its people functioning more or less in an intelligible, rational and coherent way.
Rest assured, despite Inspector O being a simple police inspector, nothing in any novel involving him is pure police work. In DPRK, it’s always a game between the various secret security services, of which the "normal" SSD (State Security Department) is only the dumbest one, dumber even than the regular police (Ministry of People's Security, formerly Ministry of Public Security).
Bleak and joyless as it undoubtedly is, Inspector O's North Korea has its charms and poetry. The former spy that calls himself James Church must have quite a good knowledge of the region, and its literary talents can’t be doubted.
Even more than the previous one in the series, this novel has a tortuous plot and it’s highly exaggerating the "international and national spy soup"—and yet I loved it. I still don’t understand how someone who has been a foreign liaison and who has traveled through Europe is now a police inspector and not a member of the SSD at the very least—but I’m not a connoisseur when it comes to spy work.
There are also some other exaggerations, and I won’t even mention the wood thing. Let’s say that I find it hard for a North Korean—no matter who—to be fascinated by Robert Burns. And insisting that SSD’s people are unimaginably thickheaded is probably also a pretext to pretend that whoever is rather smart by Inspector O’s standards must be from Military Security or from another unnamed and dreaded agency. Not to mention that the ending leaves plenty of unexplained aspects, including a certain blue document.
While reading the first novel in the series (see my review), I was curious to see how can it be that some crimes are actually investigated in DPRK, because I thought I knew they lack the skills to do that. (At some point, Inspector O literally says, “Listen, Richie, where I live, we don't solve cases.”) In this second installment, things are somewhat clarified: «Over the years, completely out of channels, a classification system for cases had grown up among the sector-level inspectors. The Ministry often sent down memos warning against the use of this unsanctioned system, only reinforcing suspicions that it was pretty close to accurate. Category one cases were simple enough—those we were expected to investigate and, where possible, solve. Category two cases were those we were expected to be seen as investigating but not to solve. Category three cases were those we were to avoid—leave every stone unturned. In fact, for a category three case, it was best not even to record that there were any stones. No records, no files, no nothing.»
Something ridiculous concerning a lock-picking set: «I opened the bag and held up two narrow metal blades, one slightly thicker than the other, each attached to a wooden handle—some sort of junk wood, though I couldn’t tell for sure what it was because it was painted black. “Made in Romania.” I read the small stamp on the handle of one of them. “Good for breaking and entering in Bucharest maybe, but probably worthless in Pyongyang. Have you ever seen the bookcases they make there? Nothing fits with anything else.”» Just like in the previous novel, Church likes mentioning Romania, possibly because in the 1980s its totalitarian regime (remember Ceausescu?) was somewhat similar to Kim Il-sung’s one. But a lock-picking set with wood handles made in Romania? C’mon: it the real world, the entire thing would certainly be made in China.
Random excerpts: — He picked up little clues that most people overlooked, things that were there and things that should have been but weren’t. Once when I asked him how he did it, he shrugged his shoulders and stared at me with melancholy eyes. “Being sad means you see the world as it is.” — “That’s not what we are discussing at the moment. We are dealing with something more philosophical than the price of shoes. We are discussing your view of mankind. Tell me, do you believe that man is already perfect? That there is no need for, shall we say, the gentle guidance of our leaders, who know, shall we say, the truth?” — He had been sentenced to a labor camp as a young man, a fifteen-year sentence for not reporting a conversation with a visiting Hungarian. ... “That’s how things happened in the old days, Inspector. In the old days, you wouldn’t be here right now.” — Apparently, he was being watched by SSD. Or just as likely, he was working for SSD. — The more people there are, the less of this there is for everyone. The world is duller and duller. Colors are dull. The seasons are dull. Pretty soon you can’t tell one from another, pretty soon sadness and evil and melancholy and love are all gray, pounding gray lumps that enter you and sit in confused silence inside your heart so you don’t know anymore what you are. But when you die, these things, they separate out again, they go back into the world in their pure form, little splinters and fragments of them, and someone else gets them, and if they bathe in goodness, why, we rejoice and smile at the luck, but goodness is light and usually floats on the wind so no one gets much of it, less that than love, which dances across the empty spaces and so you only run into it by mistake, or by surprise.
I picked up this book because it takes place in North Korea, a country about which I know very little. While it's not the greatest police procedural I've ever read, it does provide hilarious descriptions of the North Korean bureaucracy and interesting glimpses of how a totalitarian regime affects the psyche of its citizens. The sparse style isn't quite Hemingway and the intellect isn't quite Orwell's, but I now understand how you can have a country without bank robberies.
Brilliant. Bizarre atmosphere, witty observations, police policing the police... This was my first time meeting Inspector O, and I can't wait for more. Also bizarre story with North Korea's first bank robbery and deaths without bodies. The places, people, and details that are odd (and of course exotic), and the police policing the police, they all create the odd, bizarre feel. 4.5 stars - that just has to be rounded to 5 since I'm craving for more Inspector O.
A great little hardboiled detective story with the delightful twist of setting it in North Korea and our hero being a Nork cop. That alone is brilliant. A few annoyances -- opening the book with weather put me off reading it for a year -- but hey, as I said, there are dashes of humour and flashes of brilliance here, and that's more than enough for me.
Setting: Great insight into North Korea -- I'll take the author's/publisher's word that the author knows that world first hand, because I've never been to North Korea to contradict the setting.
Setting colour: Author writes beautifully of countryside/nature, but his descrips of the city felt like it could have been any western city; nothing really stood out for me as being in a city in NK/Asia.
I suppose for the character the setting is pedestrian for an NK citizen, and given he's in first person it's maybe fair enough he's not giving any lush colour of the city for the reader.
Writing: Some excellent writing, of weather/setting if not of characters/the city.
Politics: Great insight into politics in NK: for example, even the police get tortured and interrogated by the secret/state police.
Character: Great character. I especially liked his interest and fascination with wood. Great/original character trait.
He did, however, follow the usual trope of a fictional detective in that he is a lonely bachelor, and for some reason has no interest in romance, which is fine, but isn't explained.
He's also old school and looks at the new breed of cops with disdain whom he describes as:
"total recall of new regulations, very concerned with promotion, little experience, and no sense".
He is also a patriot, but the author tells and show us this without giving any reason why he would be so patriotic to a country that rounds up and tortures people at will -- including cops.
Pros & Cons: Book doesn't follow the usual plot for a police procedure. And the mystery of the whole story is never really fully resolved, I felt, a lot of things left hanging, more so than other novels that avoid wrapping up all up in a bow for the reader.
** SPOILER ALERT **
Cons: There's some dreadful plot/story holes. For example, a visiting UK dignitary is driven into the wildnerness, rather than the capital where he was supposed to bed down, during a state visit yet his security team doesn't seam to wonder why -- until, well, it's too late.
Oddities: An oddity is that for all the politics at play (ie police state/oppression of any criticism of government), the actual government/president is never referred to by the president's name etc. I suppose that helps not to age the book/put it in any fixed period, ie if Kim Jong Un drops dead/is killed, the book hasn't aged.
Cons: A character called Boswell was often referred to as Bosworth. That's an editing/proofing oversight rather than that of the author.
Would I read another book in this series? I don't think so -- got what I wanted out of the character and his world and felt zero interest to dip back into either again.
Oh, delightful. I just finished a book that I really liked for its imaginative topic - but when I started reading Hidden Moon, I realized that the real glory in a book is its prose. So, 5 stars for its prose. (An example? See pg. 137, for the two paragraphs describing the weather as gray.)
I had a few quibbles with the suspension of disbelief, beginning around p.147 when the Scot appears. He and O have sophisticated repartee - and that just doesn't work with 2 people who meet each other for the first time from two different cultures and in a language foreign to one of them. Conversing in a foreign language, unless one is bilingual from an early age and well educated in both, is an awkward proposition. One says what one can, not necessarily what one wants to, and this is true when the language is one's mother tongue, because one must take into account what the other will understand. It's hard. The dialog reads as between fluent speakers, and that's not the situation here. (I love the dialog. It's just not the right characters for it.)
Final quibble (minor; but why is it easier to note the quibble?) is on p. 248 when the Scot says that he cannot read Korean; he can speak it fluently but not read it. He complains about the alphabet. Nonsense. I have taught people in 20 minutes to read Korean. The alphabet is exquisitely sane. Chinese characters, on the other hand, frequently mixed into literary Korean, is nearly impossible to learn as an adult, but Korean alphabet is a snap, and it's impossible for me to imagine how one learns to speak Korean, which is difficult, without being able to use a dictionary, which requires reading the alphabet.
I look forward to reading the rest in this series.
The follow up to 'Corpse in the Koryo' sees Inspector O returned relatively unscathed to North Korea's capital after his adventures in the countryside in Book 1. Now he has a new boss, a new agent looking over his shoulder and new women in his life.
A new case as well. A bank robbery has taken place in Pyongyang, and O is tasked with solving a case that he is convinced no one wants solved. By the time he's finished he'll have met a moody Scotsman, a beautiful woman from Kazakhstan, and the usual mix of bureaucrats, spies and villains - all against the typical backdrop of a North Korea where looking busy is the best way to stay out of trouble.
As with his previous book, James Church creates a completely believable world for us to exist in. O is as approachable as ever: misanthropic, impudent and obsessed with different types of wood (no euphemism for that last one). This time, his encyclopaedic knowledge of the latter helps him to see more than the trees, but much like 'Corpse' he seems to end up coming round to the answer because of other people rather than his own ingenuity. A bit like how Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark doesn't really add much to the plot but still ends up being involved at the end.
Definitely the story ran out of steam over the last fifty pages or so. But it's still an enjoyable ride with an unusual narrator, and I'll be picking up number three somewhere down the line.
If you are looking for a mystery novel that clips all of its loose ends and weaves its many plot threads up in a nice tight rope at the end, then this is not the book for you. The second of the Inspector O books is an intriguing puzzle filled with lyric passages. I not only wanted to love this book, I did love the first 90 percent of it. The ending counts for much, however, especially in a murder mystery, which to be fair might be reducing this multi-faceted peek into North Korean bureaucratic machinations down to something it is only pretending to be. The unbelievable ending - I mean that in the most literal sense, not as a synonym for superb - destroyed most of my goodwill for this story. I'm not talking about the enigmatic final scene - one can forgive and even expect that from Inspector O. My problem was that assassination attempt and subsequent fall out in the Cemetery of the Martyrs. Baffling stuff, my chingu. Exposition dumps, sloppy scene setting, hideous action sequences, coincidence and contrivance in abundance. I can't understand the contrast between that and the rest of the book. In the end you have no real idea what was going on. Evidently foreign nationals can move in and out of North Korea with impunity, which is something of a surprise to me, as I thought it was the most restrictive society in the world. Whatever it takes to move the plot along, I guess. Here's a writing tip: Know how to end your story before you start writing it.
Bleak, and oblique. I don't know what all the words in this book were doing, as the plot was about how nobody knows anything, and we don't learn much about any of the characters either. I still read it with interest. I did enjoy how the author showed O's disdain for foreigners who think they know more about what his country needs than he does, or who mock and despise it. At the end I had some idea of the plot and maneuverings that the whole book had been about, but not much. That's ... about all we got.
Well, and a lot of noir/ espionage stylings. I must say, I don't really appreciate the "dames" of the noir style here. I think we could have a woman who is a real character instead of a set of physical attributes and a mysterious past. Maybe noir has passed its sell-by date. (I thought the same thing about the beginning of "The Expanse." I signed so heavily when I realized it was about a noir cop and his love for an unattainable woman who never really gets to be a character except through the eyes of others. I'm glad it grew out of that.)
I don't know why, but I will probably read more of these books. They are so spare, that when you manage to glean something, it feels like a prize. I don't know if that's a sign of skill, or the opposite. Probably skill, in the intelligence field.
But man. So bleak I felt guilty for eating ice cream while reading it.
5 stars. Feel wrong-footed at every turn? Can't follow the plot? Not sure there even is one? Welcome to North Korea, a bizarro land where police inspectors can't ever be sure whether a crime is to be solved or not. If you are expecting a straight-up whodunnit and why, you will be frustrated and disappointed by this novel. That's because it's not a detective novel, it's a political novel and a brilliant one at that. James Church provides as clear a look inside North Korean society as we in the Western world are ever likely to get. It is indeed a land that lies like truth.
People think the truth is bulky, like a big package. More often, it comes in small drops, like rain from the eaves. You can listen to it all night long, but in the morning when you go outside, there might not be anything there.
Inspector O is assigned the case of North Korea's first bank robbery. No one wants to help him with the case, and he certainly doesn't want to investigate it, either. He keeps trying to give up the case, but someone higher up is pressuring his supervisor to find out who is responsible.
The book was rather slow, and then at the end there was such a mess of agencies working with/against/beside each other that I'm not really sure I understood what happened, and I'm not sure the characters knew everything, either.
Is this a gripping mystery you read overnight? No.It moves slowly, reminding you of George Smiley's adventures, where you are in the dark until the very end, with lots of groups of North Korean and other nasties with their own agendas coming in and out of view. People die in various ways, you have no idea why until the end. If you can swim in such waters, it's a great book and I highly recommend it. And then, the crown jewel: a peek inside North Korea's society from someone who has been there. I loved it.