The Ghosts of Nagasaki

by Daniel Clausen

One night a foreign business analyst in Tokyo sits down in his spacious high rise apartment and begins typing something. The words pour out and exhaust him. He soon realizes that the words appearing on his laptop are memories of his first days in Nagasaki four years ago. Nagasaki was a place full of spirits, a garrulous Welsh roommate, and a lingering mystery. Somehow he must finish the story of four years ago--a story that involves a young Japanese girl, the ghost of a dead Japanese writer, and a mysterious island. He must solve this mystery while maneuvering the hazards of middle management, a cruel Japanese samurai, and his own knowledge that if he doesn't solve this mystery soon his heart will transform into a ball of steel, crushing his soul forever. Though he wants to give up his writing, though he wants to let the past rest, within his compulsive writing lies the key to his salvation.

Genres: Fiction, Magical Realism, Japan, Fantasy, Historical Fiction, Contemporary, Dark

250 pages, Kindle Edition

First published June 22, 2012

About the author

Daniel has wanted to be a writer ever since he was in elementary school. He has published stories and articles in such magazines as Slipstream, Black Petals, Ken*Again, Aphelion, Spindrift, Zygote in my Coffee, BlazeVox, Euphony Journal, and Leading Edge Science Fiction (among many others).

He has written many books: The Sage and the Scarecrow (a novel), the Lexical Funk (a short story collection), Reejecttion (short story/ essay collection), ReejecttIIon -- A Number Two, (short story /essay collection collaboration with Harry Whitewolf), Something to Stem the Diminishing (short story / essay collection), The Underground Novel (a novel / self-help book), Pure Writerly Moments (a Wattpad collection of essays and stories), They're Making it Up as They Go Along (a literary experiment with Harry Whitewolf), and the Ghosts of Nagasaki (a novel).

His novel "Statues in the Cloud" is available on Amazon Kindle and in Paperback for a very reasonable price. https://www.amazon.com/Statues-Cloud-...

Reviews

[Majenta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Sorry this review is long overdue, and probably still won't be what the book deserves.

This book deserves your time and your full attention. You will feel the tug of invitation to get lost in it and to maybe not even question where you're being taken, although you will never be too sure where you're being taken. And for sure you'll wonder about your tour guide, our protagonist. But you'll hope that he figures himself out and finds what he needs.

"So, you like to write?" ... "No," I say honestly. "I desperately want to quit, but I can't." (at 38%)

"Not worth the plastic it's digitally written on." (sign of the changing times, later at 38%)

"...you have to admit, a nymphomaniac [Hello] Kitty and a philandering Joe Camel go together about as well as nerdy Japanese girls listening to gangster rap music. By God, I have these adorable high school girls asking me what 'slap my bitch up' means." (the protagonist's roommate, "Mikey Welsh," at 42%)

"He's dead, you know. .... But that doesn't stop him from coming to the same spot every day to write." (at 46%)

"I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do after you're gone." .... "That's easy, mate. You'll make up an imaginary friend in your head. Maybe a hotter, supermodel version of me with gigantic cans." (Mikey Welsh reassuring our protagonist at 49%)

"Because I keep having visions of Shusako Endo and a priest, and because one of the characters, Kichijiro, is living in my spare bedroom. Don't tell the head office about it though, because if they ever found out we were keeping him in our apartment they would get fairly pissed." (Our protagonist explaining why he hasn't come into work at 50%)



If you liked, loved, or didn't quite know what to make of MR. WAS by Pete Hautman, definitely check this out. In fact, if you're even considering missing out on this experience--"Chiga-u!" Big mistake!

Thanks for reading. And author Daniel Clausen, thank you so much for inviting me to read and review this and thank you for your patience.

[Kevin Ansbro · Rating 4 out of 5]

"What if we're all like that? Like ghosts in someone's mind ... gradually fading, fading, until finally, one day, we just disappear ... drift into nothingness.
Wouldn't that be sad?"
—Walter Wykes

The unreliable narrator for this surreal tale is an unnamed American systems analyst who lives in Tokyo (for the purpose of this review, I shall refer to him as 'X'). Now, I love Japan, and all things Japanese - and Clausen's novel was also labelled as magical realism - so this had "Konnichiwa, Kevin!" written all over it.
At first, the story was as confusing to me as Einstein's theory of relativity would be to a toad. I thought, what the saki is going on here? X is originally driven by a subconscious thought process that sees him tapping out latent recollections of his arrival in Nagasaki, four years earlier.
Our main man continues to be cast adrift from reality, marooned in a stream of consciousness that sees him consorting with debauched expats, a former foster mother and a Japanese apostate, to name but a few.
And while X blunders about in this metaphysical existence, I spent each sentence trying to second guess what was actually happening: is he in a coma? I wondered. Is he under anaesthetic on an operating table? Is the poor chap hallucinating? How come Easter bunnies lay eggs?

Engrossing though this stream of consciousness was, the author had chosen to forgo his right to a plot (the story does drift along without any discernible structure). Even so, I was wholly invested and had to keep reading so I might prove myself clever enough to unlock the story's secrets (highly unlikely, I hear you cry -and you'd be correct). Nevertheless, aside from it existing in a seemingly aimless metaphor-filled bubble, the story did entertain. His boisterous drinking buddies, especially Mikey Welsh, had me chuckling out loud with their indecorous antics. And X's odyssey put me in mind of Tony Soprano wandering aimlessly through his own mind whilst in a coma.

Overall, this highly unusual story was both intriguing and refreshingly original. But, because I'm unduly fond of a plot (call me old-fashioned), and because I prefer my prose to be rather more flamboyant, I held one star back in my quiver.
I'm not sure I'd categorise this as magical realism, as per Márquez, Zafón, Allende, Rushdie or Jess Kidd, etcetera, but neither would I class it as fantasy.
It's an enigma wrapped up in a conundrum, so it is - and all the better for it!

[Daniel Clausen]

I wrote this book from 2008-2012. I have such fond memories of writing this book...hopefully, others will enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

You can read a short excerpt here:
https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog...

You can read more here:
https://www.amazon.com/Ghosts-Nagasak...

Novel Synopsis

One night a foreign business analyst in Tokyo sits down in his spacious high rise apartment and begins typing something. The words pour out and exhaust him. He soon realizes that the words appearing on his laptop are memories of his first days in Nagasaki four years ago.

Nagasaki was a place full of spirits, a garrulous Welsh roommate, and a lingering mystery.

Somehow he must finish the story of four years ago--a story that involves a young Japanese girl, the ghost of a dead Japanese writer, and a mysterious island. He must solve this mystery while maneuvering the hazards of middle management, a cruel Japanese samurai, and his own knowledge that if he doesn't solve this mystery soon his heart will transform into a ball of steel, crushing his soul forever. Though he wants to give up his writing, though he wants to let the past rest, within his compulsive writing lies the key to his salvation.

From the first page:

The long backwards perspective one gets from the angle of a word processor some years later is a tricky one. As a connoisseur of biography and autobiography I know that there is nothing less reliable than someone writing about his or her own past from his or her own perspective. And for the general welfare of those who look for the bare facts of the matter, I am obliged to stamp on the very first page, in the very first paragraph, in bold italics: All fact seekers beware.

But if the skewed vision of someone determined to live out their ghosts through words is permitted, then perhaps we may leave the world of pure facts behind and look for an ounce of truth, perhaps the only ounce that matters. One thing is certain, however: I cannot tell you with any great certainty where I am from, what I do, or what I did, for as soon as the telling begins the things that happened change. The only thing I can tell you reliably is that soon I will be dead. The fact that I am not already dead, that I have lived on years after my heart stopped, is indeed a miracle. Perhaps this silly bit of narrative will put the matter to rest.

To sleep, to dream, but to dream of a life past twenty-six, my age at the time of these words…well, that seems a fantasy beyond imagination.

[Lori · Rating 4 out of 5]

In retrospect, I came to Nagasaki for the regenerative properties. The second atomic bomb blast so many years ago, which had swept up most of the city in a plutonium cloud, had made the city radioactively peace-loving. Reversing the usual cycle that turns victim into perpetrator, people who stepped from the rubble filled their hearts with a fervent devotion to peace in all its forms. In my mind’s eye I see them: wounded and dying, their lungs filled with ash and smoke. The ash sits there for some time, and when they exhale, miraculously, something akin to love comes out. From all those bitter seeds that usually grow hate, something emerged in Nagasaki’s soil-spirit that could heal and grow hearts .

I love magical realism, surrealism, this isn't quite either of those, it's something that won't be pinned down. Most of all I love great writing, which this is. That beginning is vague, yes, but perfectly situated in the world Clausen has built for his narrator.

The book evokes The Wizard of Oz, and does so well. Things are set in motion in Nagasaki when the narrator arrives there to teach English. He had a bad childhood in Florida. Given up as an infant, placed in an awful foster home. Then someone found him, a wonderful woman who took him in, loved him dearly -- and died. Ever since, he's felt his heart is made of steel. Debra's, the second foster home. Nagasaki, the second place the bomb was dropped. They're entwined.

In Nagasaki, among the other ghosts one stands out: the ghost of a girl he first sees in red Converses, then red shoes. The references have to be deliberate. The book is about his quest to soften his heart, wrestle with the ghosts of his past and of Nagasaki: to unravel the puzzle that is his life.

I catch her out of the corner of my eye, and it only registers four years later.

In Nagasaki he teaches English and gets drunk every night with the other teachers from abroad, his obnoxious Welsh roommate, one from Scotland, the new guy, others, different but alike. But suddenly it's four years later and he's in Tokyo:

How to describe where I work? We’re all highly paid analysts, senior analysts, such-and-such specialists, and so on. Our titles sound very impressive and very expensive, but deep down in our souls we’re all failed artists, movie stars, poets, and preachers. In other words, it’s your typical office. We’re also an investment firm.

Back and forth and to other places. Clausen's book defies categorization and at times defies deconstruction but I was quite comfortable with this narrator who is unstuck in time like Billy Pilgrim, but not like him. It has that element of Slaughterhouse Five, as he's transported from teaching in Nagasaki to four years in the future when he's a businessman in Tokyo and back and forth, repeating but not quite.

Things build. Change. Revert. Throughout he sees the ghost of Debra, the great foster mother, the one he had so briefly, who died and that's when his heart fully turned to steel. She was a wonderful mother to our narrator in their brief time together. His pain at losing her drives the book, the pain around him, the pain of getting wasted night after night and of wearing a business suit and turning into the boss you disliked most, of knowing what the people of Nagasaki suffered and overcame, made peace. He wants to. How can he?

The ghost with the red shoes. There is a way to a heart but he doesn't know it. There's an island upon which is a mountain. She leads him to it.

He's off to see the -- no, now he's with the talking, smoking, sparkled, snarky dragon, who just appears. He shows up when the roommate leaves Nagasaki. It doesn't matter if he's imaginary or not. At those times the writing reminded me of early Christopher Moore, again not derivative, in a good way.

The book often evokes the sensation of waking up and trying to catch all the pieces of the dream you just had. You reach, they're hovering like a mobile above a baby's crib. Some remain elusive, to the reader and the narrator.

It's a bit like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day, but not. There are elements that feel familiar but it's wholly original. If you're looking for a straightforward plot, this is not your book. If you're looking for a journey a bit like Murakami (who gets a mention), but not, this is different: here it is.

It's about the bomb victims and the victims of the cruelty of the Japanese government throughout history, Christian martyrs, young guys just wanting to get drunk and have a good time. A guy who thinks his heart turned to steel for good when the surrogate mother he'd longed for all his life died too soon, when he was leaning into love and knocked over by loss.

It has a beginning, a middle and an end and along the way the prose wafts on a cloud, I wrote that down while reading it. It's not that it's flowery or delicate. It flows. It floats. His Welsh roommate yapping on while the ghost of his foster mother, knitting nearby, talks over him.

If this review doesn't make much sense, reading the book does -- if you're comfortable with the ambiguity, frequent scene shifts, scenes repeated with slight changes, symbolism you may or may not think you understand. I didn't try much. Staying with the novel, I let it wash over me, present and open to whatever came next.

I read this very quickly, carried along. The book carries a lot of content but never loses buoyancy. At times I found it inscrutable, but trusted I was being taken somewhere and I was. It was refreshing. Daniel Clausen has an original, strong voice and as I read on I increasingly admired his talent, the art and craft that went into The Ghosts of Nagasaki. There's a beginning, a middle and an end, nontraditional, but they're there. The more I read, the more I felt rewarded. And pleased.

I look forward to reading more from Daniel Clausen.

Thanks, Dennis!

[Dennis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Surreal. Or is it superreal?

A young American business analyst (for the purpose of this review I’ll call him Bob) sits down in his Tokyo apartment and begins to write a story. It’s the story of how he arrived in Nagasaki four years ago. An expat from Florida, a lost soul, far away from home, in search of who knows what.

How to describe where I work? We’re all highly paid analysts, senior analysts, such-and-such specialists, and so on. Our titles sound very impressive and very expensive, but deep down in our souls we’re all failed artists, movie stars, poets, and preachers. In other words, it’s your typical office.

Life isn’t only about professions, though. And Bob‘s soul search is about much more as well. This goes much deeper. And it goes to strange places. Places where reality and imagination blend together. Where present, past and future become one. Places where ghosts walk the streets and where a lazy Welsh dragon, that sings Cat Stevens songs and tries to quit smoking, might be Bob‘s best friend, or just a figment of his imagination. The guy is losing his mind. Reality is falling apart.

Not only Bob but I as well had sometimes trouble to tell what is real and what is imagined. The plot constantly shifts in time and place, and Bob’s thoughts and experiences, that just a minute ago had been deeply resonating with something somewhere inside of me, suddenly become so alien that it all turns into a kind of fever dream.

Maybe the use of the word ‚plot‘ is a little misleading anyway. Like Bob, the narrative seems to be loosely floating around. Unlike Bob, though, it doesn’t lose its grip, at least not on this reader. While a lot of the book is gloomy and contemplative, it does also sometimes drift into the realm of absurdity to such an extent that I couldn’t help but laugh.

In spite of its mercurial appearance, this book ultimately gives the impression that all of its madness has been well thought-out. And it is certainly very well written. I might have to keep an eye on Daniel Clausen.

Since I’m incapable of explaining it any better, let’s wrap it up here: A surreal, thought-provoking and captivating read. Almost impossible to categorize, and hard to recommend to a particular kind of reader. What I can say, though, is that it is more likely to appeal to the mature reader that doesn‘t mind something left-field. I think this book should be given a try.

[Melki · Rating 5 out of 5]

That's when the girl stands up and says, "I've seen the ghosts. I see the ghost of my uncle all the time. In fact, he's standing right over there. I carry him with me wherever I go."

And she points.

The class goes silent. Despite all outward appearances, it's not a silence born of surprise.

In this haunted country, ghosts are everywhere, like cherry blossoms and Starbucks.

The American narrator of this book spends much of his time hanging out in Japanese pubs with his expat pals. He is a business analyst. Or an English teacher. Or perhaps, a mid-level manager. He has a Welsh roommate who may or may not be real. The roommate has an imaginary friend who's a dragon named Mr. Sparkles.

Poor narrator.

Is it any wonder he's been seeing ghostly girls on trains.

Then there are the ghosts. More of them now, some of them are not ghosts at all, but visions of old professors and friends. Others are full-fledged spirits, union-certified and struggling to make their quotas in haunting. They show up, hang around my classes, stare at me, or on occasion try to scare me as I'm coming out of the tub. Most of the time, however, I find them just lounging around on coffee break.

This beautifully written book falls squarely into the category of literary fiction. It is the kind of book that frequently makes me feel I'm not smart enough to "get it." And I didn't get it, completely. However, though some beautiful nuances may have gone whooshing over my head, its loveliness was not entirely wasted on me.

When I was little, I had this crazy idea that everywhere I went I could see ghosts," she says. "I could see ghosts walking around. No matter how many times I tried to talk with them, none of them would make eye contact with me. But when I got older, it became difficult to tell the real people from the spirits. Do you ever have that problem?"

"All the time," I say

An unreliable narrator, characters that may or may not be real, ghosts that may exist, dragons that almost certainly do...

This was a strange, challenging, yet mesmerizing read, and one I won't easily forget.

[Jason · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow! What a book! Need to catch my breath while I figure out a review for this so I'm gonna ramble for a bit.

Have you ever seen a David Lynch movie? The movie moves along slowly for a bit, nice and easy to watch, suddenly there is this shift in reality and everything changes, nothing makes sense but it is mesmerising to watch whilst your brain works overtime piecing together what is happening. This book is just like a David Lynch movie. It moves along slowly, partying, drinking loads, some fantastic characters and the waking up trying to remember the previous night (at times it feels like the Rum Diary). Then there is that shift in reality and you find yourself reading about ghosts, a dragon and characters from books coming to life, just like Lynch's movies this book is mesmerising. Absolutely Stunning.

It's about this guy, revisiting Nagasaki after being away for a few years and he can't help himself as he sits in front of his laptop writing about his past and re-living everything again. The story is very clever how it jumps forward to present day as the guy is experiencing the emotions and pains he was going through in his life. As the story ends and all loose ends are tied up this "emotionless robot of a reader" couldn't help but feel moved. By far the best book I've read this year, how this is not one of the best known books I'll never know... maybe it needs a bit of bondage to bring it to peoples attention.

Blog review> https://felcherman.wordpress.com/2019...

EDIT: Blog has been updated with thoughts from the second reading.

[Kimberly · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book left me with a series of impressions. While reading it, I felt at times that this was truly brilliant and at other times I felt vaguely confused. This is a story of finding self worth and value, the musings of a young man from a traumatized background, adrift in a foreign country, finding acceptance of himself. I may revise this review after I have more time to reflect.

My thanks to the author, Daniel Clausen, for my e copy of this book which I received through a Goodreads Giveaway.

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

This wonderful novel swept me up in a godlike fist and deposited me in a Japan that was somehow familiar to me, despite my never having been to Japan, and discomfortingly alien at the same time. I then found my hand being taken by a kabuki cast of ghosts, dragons and metaphors made flesh and led through a series of worlds; some allegorical, some as brutally physical as dirt, but all with a drunken, hallucinatory sense of the familiar. The journey managed to be both deeply disturbing and somehow comforting, like a sad song from your childhood.

This book has only taken me four days to read yet it has stayed with me for that entire time and I think it's going to stay with me for a long time to come. It's now living in my brain like a baby grass-snake in a block of Swiss cheese. I finished it two hours ago and I've only just reached the point where I feel like I could even begin to put some words of my own down about it. I'm definitely still processing (out of cheese ERROR).

I've always been a little dismissive of the term 'magical realism', marking it down as a term pretentious asshats use to describe the fantasy genre, because they don't want to admit (even to themselves) that they'd read a fantasy novel. Whatever you want to call it, though, The Ghosts of Nagasaki is a superb piece of surreal fiction that connected with me in a way not many other books have. It reminded me of Bright Lights, Big City and Abre los ojos without ever being in any way derivative of them. It also reminded me of the work of Salman Rushdie to an extent but that may be because I was reading a Rushdie book at the same time as I was reading this and the human mind loves making connections, whether they're there or not.

All this rambling drivel is just my clumsy way of saying I loved this book and I will definitely be checking out more of Daniel Clausen's work. Breathtaking stuff. It made me sit up and say 'Oh thank GOD; somebody else out there perceives the world just like I do!'

Full disclosure: I received a digital copy of the book from the author in exchange for an honest review. I've done my best, but nothing I could scrawl could do this fantastic book justice.

[Ray · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ghosts of Nagasaki by Daniel Clausen may not seem so at first, but is a unique expat tale. It begins with long dramatizations of the typical party expat lifestyle, as the narrator along with his partner-in-crime the Welshman spend most of their time getting drunk in Nagasaki bars. It’s a familiar introduction to anyone who has lived abroad, especially in Asia.

While the job aspect is briefly covered—something about being a kind of business analyst—there’s the ESL teaching aspect as well. More than anything, it seems to be very much a boy’s story of how much fun it is hitting on local girls.

It seems to be so, at first. However, there is a reason this story is called *Ghosts* of Nagasaki. What the narrative is truly about, the reader eventually discovers, is how both the city of Nagasaki and the poor narrator are perpetually haunted…

The timeline jumps around to reveal more backstory, highlighting how the Japan is haunted by World War II and how young men who run away to far-off countries cannot escape being haunted by their past. Be it a tragic fostered childhood, or the drama of a love long lost.

“For a short time in Nagasaki, I believed that I had put enough distance between me and my old life. I could exist as a different person—as a Lost Boy wandering from nomihodai to nomihodai, as a chaser of catwomen and other prized treasures of the Great Eugenics Project.”

There is much to learn on ghost bureaucracy. There is much introspection.

“On my futon mattress, alone on a cold Nagasaki night, I wonder what it’s all about.”

And more often than not, there are the ruminations on a mysterious woman called Debra.

“It was about her and me…”

It takes a while, but halfway through the novel more positive female characters who exist outside of the mind do show up, such as the overachieving Aussie who is the first to challenge the obnoxious Welshmen.

Soon though, as the protagonist goes deeper inside the recesses of his own head, it becomes exponentially more unreliable-narrator. There’s the addition of an imaginary friend, a famous mythical beast of the Western variety, who becomes one of the most charming and hilarious of characters.

Some questions are ultimately answered in the end, and some aren’t. In this experimental tale of ryokans and gradual madness, one learns that it’s worth it to take the time to learn more about people no matter how cynical first impressions may be. Do oneself a favor, satisfied or not, and make sure to read to the end.

[David Katzman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant. What a great, surprising read. Clausen is another self-published author who makes me proud to be a self-published author. I would put The Ghosts of Nagasaki up on the shelf next to any renowned modern literary work. Well, except for that damned print-on-demand glossy cover. I despise the aesthetic of the default glossy cover. But everything between the pages, ah, that’s another story! Literally.

The ghosts of the The Ghosts of Nagasaki are both memories and more than memories. Are they literal ghosts? Within the context of this story, it’s hard to judge. As seems to make sense for ghosts, these figures live in an ambiguous state between metaphors and literal occurrences, between reality and the hallucinations of a schizophrenic. By their very existence(!) within the story, The Ghosts of Nagasaki calls attention to the falsity of “real” in fiction. Even in the most realistic of fiction, story elements that are supposed to be taken at face value are nothing more than artistic devices invented by the author. The most realistic character is a layered painting of a person created to exist in our imagination. And the ghosts of this story are similar. Created as literary devices and “real characters” at the same time that our main character has an ambiguous relationship with: he believes in them, he doesn’t. He rejects them; he embraces them. It’s the push and pull of both memory and fiction.

The Ghosts of Nagasaki is personal. Almost embarrassingly intimate in revealing the pained heart of our main character. It’s not a “grand narrative” as they call those big, sweeping stories; it lives close to the heart of the main character yet feels universal in the way it speaks to loss, loneliness, intimacy, and love. The narrative is so close to the main character that sometimes it even feels claustrophobic—an effective emotional representation of the experience of the main character. It does get a little bit repetitive at times, repeating certain words and phrases, repeating similar experiences for the main character—which I found to help create a ghostly hypnotic quality to the story. Admittedly, some might find these elements a bit … repetitive, but for me they served a valid purpose. The main character was reliving his “sins” or failings or memories over and over again. He was trapped by the past, by his ghosts.

The language in The Ghosts of Nagasaki is quite strong and sophisticated. Clausen managed to be both vibrant and intellectual in his choices without being showy or precious. And there were even some parts featuring my favorite character, the Welsh roommate, that were hilarious. The roommate added some needed levity to the emotional torment of the main character.

Clausen caught me off-guard with the psychological twists that hit toward the end of the book. Subtle shifts that I didn’t see coming. Did I fully understand the ending? I think so. I’m not sure. I believe I got it. But, again, I think the ambiguity is wholly appropriate. Define the elements too much, and it takes away from the reader’s imagination and investigation of the text. It asks more of the reader, to connect the dots. The ambiguity may frustrate some readers, but frustration is one aspect of a great work. The reader learns how to bring something of their own to the table. After all, this is a literary book not a commercial no-brain beach read. Highly recommended.

Full disclosure: I have become Goodreads friends with Daniel Clausen, and we have purchased and reviewed each other’s books. I guarantee this review was not biased by personal connection. Or your money back. For reading this. Which is free. Anyway.

[Janie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Surreal meets hyper-real in this magical, philosophical and often times humorous journey of a young man's search for self. His heart is bound in a pair of red shoes that he chases for years, reliving memories and creating new images for his soul to process and build upon. Old gods and new yet familiar images guide him to his destiny, where a heart is built through the guiding eyes of living spirits. Cherry blossoms and fireflies, beach monsters and apostates all line the path to the island which can only be reached through the belief in myths. Illuminating and touching, if one can take the leap and swim against the odds.

[Mike Robbins · Rating 4 out of 5]

A young American financial analyst returns to his Tokyo apartment one evening and begins, for no obvious reason, to write.

He starts with his arrival in Japan, four years earlier, at the age of 22, to work as an English teacher in Nagasaki. We’re back in a noisy group of heavy-drinking young expat teachers, and our narrator is as smashed as the rest of them. But there is something a little more reflective about him. As he recounts his life as it was in Nagasaki, we learn that he had a childhood and youth back in the USA that he’s never really come to terms with; life in foster-homes, causing trouble as a child, and eventually a foster-parent who did love him, but who he lost. He is, in a sense, dead inside.

And then he starts to see ghosts – the ghosts of Nagasaki and its past. Why are they following him? Are they real, are they in his imagination, do they want to hurt him, or do they want to help him overcome his past? It slowly becomes apparent that some of them, at least, want to help. But it might be too late.

Daniel Clausen’s The Ghosts of Nagasaki is basically magic realism. It’s a genre I don’t dislike but have probably read enough of. You start to suspect that people write magic realism because it’s easier than realism (plot a bit stuck? Stick in a flying pink pig. Character doesn’t quite work? Convert them into an angel). Still, over the last year or so I have read two or three such books that really were good. This is one of them. In this book, magic realism isn’t pure self-indulgence by the writer; Clausen’s ghosts aren’t arbitrary. They’re products of Nagasaki’s history. What that history did to them, and to their characters, is what ties them to the main character’s own spiritual journey. This gives the book a certain depth, and a genuine narrative cohesion.

Although the book’s themes are quite heavy, the book itself isn’t; it’s a good read. Clausen’s characters are strong. In particular, as someone who’s worked abroad a lot, I think he’s good at capturing the atmosphere that surrounds hard-drinking young expat English teachers. Younger development volunteers can be much the same. They’ve thrown off the constraints of home and are out in the world, and are often pretty anarchic. The boozing is only part of this; it’s a way of thinking. Clausen gets this quite well with the narrator’s British flatmate. You also sense an innate feeling for the rhythms of life in Japan and the way they contrast with the narrator’s own.

I nearly gave this book five stars, but I couldn’t quite. The Ghosts of Nagasaki isn’t perfect. Clausen leaves the odd plotline hanging. Here and there he piques our interest in a character and then abandons them. Also, though the book's mostly well-paced, it can slow down a bit now and then, especially in the first half. Besides, to really convince me as a writer, Clausen would have to produce a book that tells a story as good without the magic and the ghosts.

But I suspect he’d be well able to do so. In the meantime, The Ghosts of Nagasaki is an interesting and original book. Recommended.

[Sheri · Rating 5 out of 5]

"But deep down I long for her eyes, to watch the light bounce of her step, to follow her up the mountain, and to live in the deep red of her shoes one more time."

I loved this book. It was a delight to read it. It felt more like prose with a purpose than a novel.
The authors writing is carefully constructed with an ethereal quality to the story that will touch your senses.
It is not a novel to read if you are looking for action seeking characters with an exciting plot. This isn't the book for you. It isn't written to be that type of book. It's a book that will make you feel it, if you allow it to happen. Stop searching for the plot and experience the book.
It's a journey through the narrator's ghosts but don't be surprised if you find your own ghosts being awakened during the read. With the flow between past and present, it left me feeling unbalanced, even awkward. No doubt that this was the author's intent.
The characters are lovely, the scenery is divine, the conversations funny and entertaining. This book took me on an unexpected journey into my imagination and stirred up something that was uncomfortable and yet truly a joy. Read the book and honestly listen to it. I can't praise this book enough.

Thank you to Daniel Clausen and Goodreads. I received this book in a Goodreads Giveaway and I'm so glad that I did. This is my honest review.

[Rupert Dreyfus · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was sent a free copy of this book in return for a review and now I feel terrible because it's made me realise what a terrible reviewer I am. For starters I'm going to fall into that annoying camp of people who doesn't know how to review this book because the dreamy, nonlinear structure and historical backdrop have made it virtually impossible for a joker like me to summarise so I'm going to skip that part. I've just read other reviews hoping they'd give me something to go off, but most of them seem to be taking the same position.

So where to be begin? Is this book what gets called magical realism? I don't really know because I haven't read much magical realism - if any. Even the genre name magical realism is enough to make me wince because I consider Carl Sagan one of the greatest minds of the last century. So I can't even give this review some scope and write about the genre this book may or may not be from and then place it in a broader context. This is clearly my fault because I'm a terrible reviewer. However, at least for me, there was also a Gothic feel to this story owed to the first-person narrative voice (totally unreliable) and the constant presence of ghosts which may be symbolic rather than literal. Anyway; arguably we shouldn't care which genre a book belongs to. I just thought I'd mention it because I'm stuck on things to write about.

Okay, so that's two paragraphs filled with total fucking nonsense. Let's try some substance: the quality of writing was superb. There were parts which moved me more than any other book I've read in the last five years. I also enjoyed the references to traditional Japanese culture with dragons, samurais, cats, cherry blossoms and ghosts featuring throughout the story. In fact I bet you could ask Horiyoshi III to base a full body suit on this book and it'd look fantastic.

I also liked the fact that you never really knew if you were coming or going with this book which I think is why some people have likened it to a David Lynch film. Being a massive fan of Lynch I think there is a likeness to some degree as I occasionally had that feeling of: 'what the fuck is going on here?' And not really knowing if I'm in a dream or if the ghosts are supposed to be literal or if it's all just a faulty memory... I still haven't got a clue.

I gave this book five stars because it falls into the tiny category of books which I intend to reread purely because I think there's more to it than what I've taken the first time round. This shows that the author has enough skill to balance good writing with mystery. I hate having to star rate books and I hate having to then feel like I need to justify it because it's all arbitrary nonsense.

Apologies for the terrible review, Daniel! :-)

[Alison · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a difficult book to review for me. It's completely different to anything I have ever read before, and has stayed with me for days since finishing.

First of all, I will say that I initially struggled with this book. Not through any fault of either the author or the content, I must add. My fault entirely from jumping straight into reading this fresh from finishing another Japanese based novel (my first Murakami) without giving time for the dust to settle.

In saying that, this is a challenging read of its own accord, and certainly not one to be taken lightly or with any preconceived ideas. Extremely sophisticated without being pretentious or pompous.

The protagonist is a tormented soul forced to deal with his painful past by the sudden reappearance of the ghosts. Despite the direction and advice he receives from them, he doesn't feel worthy of any kind of forgiveness.

It's not all doom and gloom though. There are numerous funny scenes from his years in Tokyo, and touching personal moments with individuals.

This is one book I will definitely read again, as I am sure there are many points I have missed out along the way.

I recommend this to anyone who is up for a challenging journey, open-minded.

*Disclosure - I purchased this book from Amazon. I am friends with the author on Goodreads - a friendship that was established after I read and rated this book*

[Kirstine · Rating 4 out of 5]

"I have always believed that the goodness of life was somewhere beyond my grasp, that the shadow of failure was hanging over me. Every obstacle seemed like a slope that could lead me back to where I came from: a nice shiny new car borrowed for a while and a bit of sunshine, one kid on top of you, the other shoving dirt in your mouth. What a nerve-wracking thing it is to be given hope."

What a beautiful, thought provoking, profoundly surprising and courageous book. I was approached by the author with an offer to read it in change for a review, and I accepted. Something I'm grateful for, as I'm not sure I ever would have found this book on my own. And what a story I would have missed out on. So thank you, Daniel, ever so much for sending me a copy, and of course for writing it.

The prose is magnificent. Some of it reads like a Siken poem ("I look briefly for those shaggy monsters of my youth"), some of it cuts straight to the heart and some of it perfectly captures the blandness, and the hopelessness of existence. There's a bleakness to it, and a hopefulness at the same time. It's imagined in gray with specks of vibrant colors. The mountain is a lush green, the ocean is beautifully blue, Mr. Spackle sparkles like spilled glitter in sunshine, and all the while our protagonist is black and white, his workplace is gray, his apartment is a faded brown. And the ghosts are white, with shades of color that have long gone.

It's the perfect mix of real, superreal and unreal. It's about the limits of fantasy, about imagination as a tool for healing, about the people around us who save us daily and how unbelievably difficult it can be to accept to feel anything, once you've been broken so bad you've wished again and again you didn't have a heart at all.

I guarantee you this book is no what you expect. The words fall together seamlessly and the story flows, taking you with it. It might be about redemption and forgiveness. It might be about something else.
But whether it be his childhood, his 22-year-old self getting drunk in Nagasaki, or the wounded business man in Tokyo, part of his tale will get to you. You'll recognize it.

Most of all I'm impressed that Daniel Clausen managed to write a story that could have been so goddamned sad, so utterly hopeless and dark, and instead it filled me with optimism. His observations on so many subjects is unnervingly spot on, and he presents a lot of human issues in a light that is both humoristic, clever and deeply serious.

"Debra used to say that Justice existed, but that he was just a no good lazy dog who liked to take shortcuts, shirk his work, and sneak out for a drink. On his worst days, he would try to cheat on you with your sister when you had your back turned. All he needed was a good kick in the rear end and a reminder he had a job to do. I wanted to kick the fucking cigarette out of Justice's mouth and say, 'Listen fucker, get back to work or I'm going to kick your anemic little ass'. And because Justice is weak-kneed and likes expedients, he would get back to work, no problem."

And haven't we all, at one time or another, agreed with this description of justice? He can be cruel in his absence.

I cannot recommend this book enough. I'm honored to have received a signed copy, and will hopefully be reading more from this author in the future. For now, let me cherish having read these 240 pages, and met, if only briefly, the ghosts of Nagasaki.

[Rebecca Gransden · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Ghosts of Nagasaki is...

...one of those ones that lingers. Giving a breakdown of theme, plot or character seems to waste time somehow, so I won’t. I don’t want to figure this novel out, just leave it to live in the fragment of time in which I read it, compartmentalize it away into its own drawer and lock it ready as a challenge to my unconscious mind to sort out. It’s not sparing with its heaviness or dismissive of its playfulness.

Deadness.

The ghostly figures that populate the novel care little for their place relative to reality and fantasy, and the compulsion for the reader to look for the joins is a mistake, thankfully one that I wasn’t concerned with at all.

Manifestations born of mischief, chiefly in the guise of a friendly dragon, take on the wisdom of the fool, the value of lightness when numbness has caused a protective retreat demonstrated in funny ways.

Like the Tin Man, the writer we follow has an empty space in his chest and a visitation from a feminine presence with shoes of ruby red helps direct him towards a place where there may be a chance to fill it with something. Something different, perhaps strange and not what he expected, but full nonetheless. Journeying to quiet places that seem set apart, where the inner world intermingles with the outer unquestioned, he measures himself against the spirits and deep waters.

This is one of those that travels without moving. Where staying still means the greatest leaps and a metamorphosis happens beneath. The places merge into a whole, a coagulated life force that brilliantly represents the limbo a lack of heart implies.

Ultimately the ghostly remnants of a traumatized place show the lessons ingrained in the legacy of events too terrible. The threads of ancient reserves return to offer solace to those who are able to accept it. A wonderful book that may mean something to anyone who has ever struggled with losing themselves, feeling disassociated from the world around them or too overcome by unfortunate events.

[Daniel Clausen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Follow the Red Shoes…

A pair of red shoes. A whisper from the past. In "The Ghosts of Nagasaki," memory and reality entwine in a journey both haunting and beautiful.

Please checkout this excerpt from "The Ghosts of Nagasaki":

In Nagasaki, the workdays come and go and I get through them as best I can. The misery of the winter season slowly passes. After work, my Welsh roommate and I rediscover the magic of rental movies as a way to save money and drink less. Michael J. Fox, Molly Ringwald, and other venerable eighties icons manage to move us past February and March. And then, one day without warning, the cherry blossoms bloom. Pink fluffy cotton candy plumes hanging from trees. They somehow make the days seem that much sweeter and usher in the early death of winter. My Welsh roommate points them out to me from the tram on the way to work. “Nothing more glorious than being stuck in Japan during cherry blossom season,” he says.

https://ghostsofnagasaki.wordpress.co...

[Leo Robertson · Rating 4 out of 5]

A beautiful, meandering surrealist memoir of sorts that to me read in a Murakami-esque dislocated style. The narrative branches and sprawls out epically, echoing its narrative through history and fantasy.

Unfortunately I don’t find myself with more to say than has already been said, having read the far more incisive reviews of this work that are available- some of my favourites you can check out below:

Rebecca

Jason

Harry

Libby

Mike

But maybe that’s better, because I can guarantee you’ve read this far so you know this book is stunning and well worth your time :)

[Oliver · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Ghosts of Nagasaki starts off straightforward enough: a foreign business analyst for an international investment firm feels inexplicably compelled to type out whatever he is thinking about. What seems at first to be a memoir of loss, regret, and drunken debauchery though, ends up unfolding in a rather unorthodox manner. As it turns out, this analyst has a bit of a troubled past, and a difficult time addressing it to boot. Despite acknowledging his dissatisfaction with work, family, and socialization, this unruly autobiography slowly unearths the fact that our narrator is far more miserable than even he realizes.

Thrusting the reader between past and present, blurbs of the narrator as an English teacher in Nagasaki four years prior, as an orphaned child resistant to his foster families, and as a unstimulated twenty-six year-old corporate slave crisscross and align at all the right moments. The chapters and subchapters bounce back and forth between these scenes as sharply and dizzyling as a series of professional tennis match volleys, which makes for an exciting and quickly paced plot. Furthermore, as the lines between real and imaginary blur for the analyst, they become distorted for the reader as well. Are there actual manifestations of ghosts haunting him in his apartment, or are they just metaphors? Is the analyst digging up painful and vivid memories, or are these elaborate real-time fabrications conjured up by a suppressed hyperactive and creative mind?

As if sorting out who and what is artificial or legitimate was not perplexing enough, a constant shape-shifting of characters forces you to try and determine which form of this supposedly tangible or potentially phantasmal person is the right one. And just when you are certain that someone does exist, another factual (as far as you have concluded, at least) person disregards or denies his or her existence outright. This deeply personal examination of abtrusity and indefiniteness in regards to life and “life” within the novel feels similar to something like Vanilla Sky in its construction and deconstruction of “fact.” Except with a better ending.

Fortunately for the type of person who this type of book appeals to, author Daniel Clausen does not kill the ambiguity of the book by pulling some simple explanation out of left field or otherwise spelling out an ending. Although all the pieces of the puzzle are there, it is still largely up to the reader by the last page to interpret the conclusion to all of the accumulated questions.

Stylistically, the book has a lot in common with magical realist author Haruki Murakami, from its narrative flow and austere sentence structure, to its sparse, dry humor, and even down to its generous attention to cats. As the story progresses, those aforementioned brusque jolts between past and present all but disappear, and consequently the intrigue and enthrallment lowered to a simmer somewhere in the middle of the book. Luckily, there were still enough twists throughout to sustain momentum and eventually stoke the flames back to their previous volume. While the ghost in The Ghosts of Nagasaki may or may not actually exist, I think most readers, even those lured in by the prospect of a horror-supsense novel, will find its content haunting in a most rewarding, lingering way.

[Harry Whitewolf · Rating 5 out of 5]

I think I've just found my new favourite author. At one point in Ghosts of Nagasaki, the protagonist is asked “So, you like to write?” To which he replies, “No, I desperately want to quit, but I can’t.” I have a feeling the author may have been talking about himself there, because this book reeks of an idea that was germinated and accumulated in a prose confused head until it eventually forced the writer to put pen to paper. (Or finger to key). And, for me, that's the secret of a great writer: they don't actually choose to write in the first place.

It's almost like The Rum Diary (or even Three Men In A Boat, humour-banter-wise) at the start, only in the set up of the wonder of being in a foreign land with big money is in reality mostly drunken nights out with the immediate company you keep; in this case the much loved, frank speaking Welshman who compliments and sometimes completes the main character. The banter comes fast, the laughs rise themselves from the page and infect the reader, and there's a sheer joy at reading Clausen's distinctive and often poetic prose, with sharp insights and killer skills of weaving a good story.

I'm sure most readers will hanker on to those first weeks with the Welshman, but it's not long before this book builds and strays into stranger and wilder territories. When the ghosts appear, that's when the story really takes off. But what's meant by ghosts? The ghosts of the protagonist's orphan and foster family childhood, the ghosts in his head, the ghosts of books and writers coming to life, a girl with red shoes, a most adorable Welsh dragon, the... perhaps everyone and everything's a ghost. And perhaps the ghosts in his head only manifest themselves because he's in a land where ghosts exist more, because of the Japanese spiritual attitudes of the place. Time ceases to be linear. It's more Incan in origin, where the past and present run parallel. But actually, just forget all that. This is just one man's story. The boundaries of reality don't matter by the end. The island where hearts are grown is real enough in the purifying tale of this man in Japan.

At times I felt like I was reading Are You Experienced? At other times I was absorbed in a Hundred Years of Solitude and Famished Road type world. The blend of humour, metaphysical magic and emotional journeys was mixed just right for this reader. I mean, you even get philosophy from Kermit The Frog in this book. Buy it now.

Harry Whitewolf (Author of Route Number 11 and The Road To Purification).

[guiltlessreader · Rating 4 out of 5]

Originally posted on my blog Guiltless Reading

I admit it, I apostasized (the conventional novel).

My two cents: This is one difficult book to review. I have been sitting on this letting my thoughts percolate because it isn't a conventional read, and so my review isn't going to be conventional either.

When I first saw the title, I thought it could be anything from historical fiction (hey, it's set in Japan), to scary mystery (Japanese ghosts = The Ring?). I didn't know what I was expecting, really, and when I posted Daniel Clausen's guest post which was rather funny, I got even more confused.

This is the story of an American expat, a business analyst, who works in Tokyo. One night, he just feels compelled to write. This is the story of his early days in Nagasaki. Of red shoes. Of Japanese ghosts. An island he has to return to. And here's where any sense to the story just falls apart ...

***
If I could venture a comparison, this has the surreal-ness of a Haruki Murakami but it is just a touch more hopeful. And yes, there is a cat in this one too. (Little surprise that Clausen is a Murakami fan.)

The storyline weaves in and out as streams of consciousness, with me constantly second guessing whether what was happening was in the past or present, or real or imagined. Everything about the story is loose, fluid, and ... confusing. I learned to accept the confusion and kind of coasted through the rest of the book.

This is as much about the story as the feelings that it will evoke. Rather brazen in how intimate the emotions this book will evoke you, I went through the first half just a bundle of energy and with mixed emotions: Strangely hollow, empty, adrift, days filled with meaningless work, meaningless drinking ... Then confused as hell... Then a rather strange little bout of laughing and cracking up (between his roommate Mikey and the constant "I admit it, I apostasized!" (I pretty much looked like a madwoman reading this). ...Then ... BAM! Aha! Ok, I see where this is going! Or I think I know where he is going. I'm not quite sure what crazy little mind game Clausen was playing at!

What I really loved about this book is the way the writing just flowed, languid and poetic. I personally found the writing mesmerizing at times, and very soothing.

What struck me most is the imagery, where the real and the figurative sort of meld together (and all the while I kept internally debating and flip flopping on this). The imagery stays with you, similar to the girl in the red dress in the film Schindler's list. Here, it's a girl in red Converse shoes. Or of Mr. Sparkles, a Welsh (yes, a Welsh) dragon singing Cat Stevens. Or of a ball of steel weighing heavily where my heart should be. The ghosts are not creepy but they did talk back and I was never sure whether they were truly ghosts, memories of real people, or simply the character speaking to himself in his mind.

This is such a satisfying read. I think the trick to enjoying this book is to just embrace the confusion and the seeming randomness. I reveled in it and I have come to the conclusion that confusion is a necessary part of making sense of things, kind of like Clausen's character who exorcises the "ghosts" of his life. There's probably some profound philosophical or psychological analysis to all this. To me, it simply lent to an air of introspection: what would it take for me not to have a ball of steel but a living, breathing thing of a heart?

Verdict: If you're out for a straightforward story, this will annoy the hell out of you. But if you're ready for a mind-bending journey and some introspection, I suggest you try this one. You may just like it.

***

Uh-oh. That cover has got to go. It's much too bland and generic. I hope a new cover would feature a little bit of red.

(right after reading: wow. i wasn't expecting that. )

[Marjorie · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a magical, mystical journey this book takes the reader on! As others have said, this book's not for everyone and is not a light, easy read. I at first thought it wasn't a very long book but it ended up taking me longer than usual to read because I had to stop, think, look back, read a paragraph or two again to appreciate what it was saying. Daniel Clausen was kind enough to send me a copy of his book for a review after reading the books I had listed on my reading list on Goodreads as he thought his book would be something I would like. He definitely knows how to pick his readers. I very seldom buy books, depending on the library due to my greediness for reading, but now I have "The Ghosts of Nagasaki" in my home to pick up again and savor the story all over again. I know each reading will disclose thoughts that I missed the first time around.

This book allows you to suspend all disbelief and to open up your mind to all possibilities. You'll meet a vast assortment of characters, many ghosts, an apostate, a samurai, even a dragon. The only character I found unbelievable was the doctor who didn't want to be paid for his services. Just kidding - he was believable, too. There's even a mysterious island.

This book is so unusual and nothing like you've read before. Keep reading and you'll be drawn into this young man's life and his friends will become yours and you'll truly care about what happens to them. I had emotional tears in my eyes during the last two chapters and these characters and this story will remain with me for a long time to come. Thank you, Daniel, for giving me this chance to read your marvelous book.

[Brad · Rating 4 out of 5]

The final third of Daniel Clausen's The Ghosts of Nagasaki is magnificent.

It made me feel things I've been shutting down for the last year, year and a half as I simply try to tread water and keep from drowning. It engaged my senses as only a sensitive lover, an hallucinogenic drug or beautiful prose can, and it made me long for the journey to continue. I was sad to walk away.

So why not five stars? Well ... the other two thirds of The Ghosts of Nagasaki.

The beginning two thirds of the book share the same excellent prose, and they are contextually important, they lay the necessary groundwork for the book's transcendent final third, yet the stark contrast between the emotionally evocative final third and the two thirds that set it up reminded me of the times I've forgotten an elastic band bound around my finger. I slip into a nap until my finger loses feeling, then begins to purple, then begins to swell, until the sudden, dull throbbing pain wakes me, forcing me to cut the band and return the bloodflow with a painful beat beat beat goosh of blood to the extremity. The first two thirds of The Ghosts of Nagasaki are the nap and the numbing and the purpling: important to make that healthful return of blood magnificent, but hazy until that rubber band is cut and the transcendence begins.

I don't know that the final third of The Ghosts of Nagasaki could have been as balls out brilliant without the first two thirds, but I think I will come back to this in a year or two and see if the distance and the return change my view.

Thanks for this book, Daniel. It deserves the widest of audiences.

[Nancy Mills · Rating 4 out of 5]

Exquisite writing. I got lost a few times. It skips around. Because I've been so distracted all the time lately, I'm gonna say that's my fault.
Really cool book, different.

[Elliott · Rating 4 out of 5]

I find that some books are eminently more readable when you let them wash over you and don't worry about figuring it out. this is a story of self-discovery; the narrator has gotten lost in memories of foster homes; childhood nightmares, humiliation, and rebellion; and the ghosts that overwhelm him in Japan, where he's gone to get away from everything. some of the ghosts are his own and some seem to come from Japan's history and transformations (shusaku endou's novel "silence" comes to play a more than minor role; the narrator also briefly visits WWII era Japan, and of course, while he's in Nagasaki he reflects on atomic bombs).

the narrative is a whirlwind. there's no introduction, transitions are abrupt, things pass by in a haze of alcohol and dissociative fugues. in the beginning, our boy and his lovable drunken lout of a roommate, a relentlessly chatty welshman, drink a lot. already concerned with the cats he seems to see everywhere, the narrator happens to meet a woman dressed like a cat at a halloween party but ends up spending the night in a cemetery instead of with her. he's in tokyo, writing down all of his memories of what's simultaneously happening to him in nagasaki, years earlier. like I said, I just accept it, and the story carries me along (which is basically the attitude the narrator takes when apostates and sparkling dragons invade his life).

the word "superreal" shows up often where someone else might have written "surreal;" to me, the story suggested that concepts and beliefs, although intangible, matter more (are more real) than so many of the things we find ourselves compelled to do, the substance of our daily lives - go to a job you hate, every night is the same inconsequential party; until or unless at some point something meaningful appears and then you can live in the pursuit of that. but the story is not a moral lesson, it's very specifically about this one dude facing his demons. I don't think that this book is for everyone: all of the japanese culture points, the somewhat stream of consciousness narrative (albeit in a very fragmented consciousness), the abstract and seemingly inexplicable progression of events... I really enjoyed seeing all of the weird elements coming together at the end. I found the conclusion gracefully executed and gratifying.

as a lil note, I entered a goodreads giveaway and didn't win, but the author sent me a copy. so that is how I had the opportunity to read this book and write a review; these are my unbiased thoughts about what I read.

[Amberle Husbands · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Ghosts of Nagasaki turned out to be a completely different story than the one I was expecting; and nothing makes me happier in a book than being pleasantly surprised and taken completely off-guard.

The story itself is symbol-and-metaphor-heavy to the point that, from time to time, the metaphor is much more a concrete presence than the real and present action. This book doesn't play subtly (until about ten pages from the end, when it suddenly smacks you over the head with everything you overlooked and takes your breath away... subtly).

Even the author's language leaves little doubt that the world-behind-the-scenes is the driving force of this long journey -- HP Lovecraft had the words 'cyclopean' and 'eldritch', Daniel Clausen has 'supereal'. But the writing is very smooth, well edited, and never long winded... Quite refreshing, really, after seeing so many independent novels that either spit out a message and then up-size the font to fill a chapbook or spend a thousand pages not saying anything. The whole book felt very balanced and professional, and while the formatting was initially a bit eye-wracking, with extra spaces left between paragraphs and chapters forming within what had seemed to be chapters, I got over that within a few pages.

The content of the story was what surprised me most; I'm greatly impressed that the author was able to make such hilarious scenes and situations -- all immediately relatable -- so nostalgic and melancholy beneath the surface.

Sometimes, when trying to describe to other people a work of art or fiction that truly surprised and delighted me, I find it useful to leave that piece's medium entirely and describe it through comparisons in some largely unrelated field. In movie-buff terms, The Ghosts of Nagasaki combined the most poignant, beautiful, and accessible aspects from both Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Harold and Maude. Two of my favorite films of all time... but two that I completely admit become unbearable when taken too-lightly.

As the back-cover-blurber says, The Ghosts of Nagasaki is not a book to be read lightly. I was contacted by the author, Daniel Clausen, and offered a review copy of this book in exchange for my honest opinion. I recommend this book very strongly; this is one I look forward to re-reading.

[Matt Lewis · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was pretty frustrating to read at first. I had this book on the back-burner for the longest time, but finally got the time to read it. I'll admit, for the first half of the book, I was pretty discouraged. There was a whole lot about the character that was too repetitive; aspects of his personality would surface with either no or way too much context; the story itself seemed locked into a repetitive quality that tried way too hard to establish the banal nature of office work/English teaching/bar hopping in Japan. I contemplated giving up on it many times.

But once I broke through the first half, the nature of the story finally began to change. Explanations for context are finally given. Fruitless activities are finally given up on and the insanity of the character is no longer emphasized. The character begins a new, much more interesting journey to explore himself rather than just let things happen to him. Once this starts, the quality of the story finally takes on aspects of the influences that the author intended: Murakami, Japanese mythology, history & philosophy, really that quality of redemption that we see so well represented in the best animes/stories that are so unique to Japan. Difficult to pull off, but it's in there.

I'm glad I stuck with this one. Although the first half could use a lot more streamlining, the payoff of this story is a satisfying reward. I felt like I had also completed the long, ardouous battle of the character, overcome his flaws and pitfalls with him. Like the main character, this book overcame its flaws and redeemed itself in the end. Worth the effort.

[Rob Slaven · Rating 5 out of 5]

Like I’ve said many times before, this book was received as a courtesy from the author. Despite that endlessly kind consideration, I will give it candid feedback below.

On first glance it’s rather hard to know what exactly to expect from “Ghosts”. Supernatural thriller? Bildungsroman? Simple personal drama? Thinly veiled autobio? Stylistically it’s a stream of consciousness put to paper, almost a Blair Witch of the printed page. The narrative bounces effortlessly from point to point, backwards and forwards in time and the reader is left to untangle the meaning of all of it for themselves in much the same way that real life is left as an exercise to the person living it.

Clausen’s novel is a complex and interwoven narrative and has a certain quality to it that buries it quietly into your skull. You may think momentarily to yourself that you need to put it down and go let out the cat but before you know it an hour has passed and the cat is still rather disgruntled and awaiting your attention. Our author weaves a tale with great draw that you just have to get to the bottom of. Along the way he plants images in your head that somehow linger after the book is over.
In summary, Clausen’s book is well worth the read but the potential peruser is cautioned to exercise patience. This is not your typical novel woven of fluff and cotton candy. It is best consumed on a long, cold rainy day in January when the whole rest of the world can be shut out, leaving you in Clausen’s capable hands.