I am angry at the author. Very angry and also unhappy. He managed to spoil everything he accomplished with the first three books in the series. I won't insert true spoilers, only generic info that won't reveal anything crucial.
Inspector O is now 68 years old, retired in special conditions in 2011, a year before the official retirement. The idiocy is that, living on a mountaintop for five years, he's disconnected from the realities of whatever happens in North Korea. And no, he hasn't lost his fucking obsession with wood chips.
Now, the thing is that something started to happen in DPRK. As this book was written in 2010, with the events supposedly taking place in 2016, the author couldn't possibly have imagined that Kim Jong-il would die at the end of 2011, and that “the new leader” would be his second son. He also couldn't have thought that each and every time the Supreme Leader dies, there would be a food and electricity crisis—not as severe as the one described in the previous novel, i.e. after the death of Kim Il-sung, at least not at the food level; the most severe electricity deficiency actually took place sometime in 2012.
Back to what happens in the book: this is what outraged me to the utmost—much more than the absurdity of the excessively recluse live the retired inspector was supposed to have had. Well, let’s say there’s some transition in the works, a sort of opening initiated by the ageing Kim Jong-il.
The problem is that it couldn’t have happened this way and to such extent. Not ever. Not by any means. Nope. Not on your life. Not in this field of possibilities.
But this is the political part. How about the murder-cum-spy-story which should undoubtedly part of any novel featuring Inspector O?
Before you understand the political climate, you’d say everything is bollocks, rubbish, nonsense, bunkum, balderdash, hogwash, and pure crap at that. Why would anyone “revive” Inspector O, and why would anyone care about some things so much as to perform such an international ballet? Towards the end of Part II everything will become clear, yet the level of dissatisfaction I had with this story was immense.
In the process, the reader is told what exactly is the Investigations Department we encountered in the very first novel—it’s the party’s foreign intelligence arm.
A last criticism: I obviously don’t know anything about the Korean language, but I’m pretty sure it lacks the polysemy around whatever word is used for “tip”: “A tip, you know—a gratuity, service charge, payment in advance for errands to be run, a friendly barrier against unfavorable winds and life’s unexpected turns. See what I mean?”
I walked past him to the door, held it open, and jerked my head in the direction of the hallway. “I’ll give you a tip,” I said. “Don’t play with matches.”
Since I cannot rate it 2 stars and half, I picked an undeserved note of 3.