Near the end I looked at some of the Amazon reviews to see if I was the only one who thought it was a badly written book. There I found some people who talked about how much they enjoyed being introduced to some descriptions of post-war life in Japan and some elements of Japanese culture. This made me reevaluate my opinion.

I don't recall anyone talking about the language. Is this a good translation of the Japanese? The writing reminds me a little of the short staccato sentences of Hemingway, but done by a teenager, not too adept at writing. The short sentences went something like this: "He was at the bar." "Was he at the bar?" "He was at the bar." Is this how Japanese people speak?

The story begins with a murder in a rail yard in Tokyo. The victim's face has been bashed to a pulp, making him unrecognizable. Soon after we find that the Tokyo police have sent off a photo of the victim to a police station in another town as part of their investigation, asking if anyone there can identify him. What the heck?

There were many incongruities and far, far too many names and places for me to keep track of. Maybe that's why I didn't enjoy the book as much as others did -- I was lost. ( )

Novela negra antigua, sin la sordidez que está de moda ahora. Un soplo de aire fresco. ( )

Un inspector se enfrenta a un caso aparentemente irresoluble. Una nueva y emocionante historia de investigación del maestro de la novela negra japonesa.

El cadáver de un hombre con el rostro desfigurado es descubierto de madrugada en una estación de Tokio. La identificación del cuerpo es complicada y la Policía apenas tiene pistas. Al inspector Imanishi le tocará dejar de lado durante un tiempo sus preciados bonsáis y sus haikus para sumergirse en una investigación que resulta infructuosa; tras semanas de perseguir falsos indicios, la Policía decide cerrar el caso, pero el obstinado inspector no se permite dejar ningún cabo suelto. Un hallazgo inesperado le llevará a continuar con sus pesquisas por distintos puntos del país, desde los humildes pueblos de montaña a los círculos intelectuales de Tokio.

Publicada en 1961, El castillo de arena es una de las obras claves de Seicho Matsumoto, el maestro de la novela negra japonesa, en la que explora las luces y sombras de la sociedad nipona de mediados del siglo xx.

El cadáver de un hombre con el rostro desfigurado es descubierto de madrugada en una estación de Tokio. La identificación del cuerpo es complicada y la Policía apenas tiene pistas. Al inspector Imanishi le tocará dejar de lado durante un tiempo sus preciados bonsáis y sus haikus para sumergirse en una investigación que resulta infructuosa; tras semanas de perseguir falsos indicios, la Policía decide cerrar el caso, pero el obstinado inspector no se permite dejar ningún cabo suelto. Un hallazgo inesperado le llevará a continuar con sus pesquisas por distintos puntos del país, desde los humildes pueblos de montaña a los círculos intelectuales de Tokio.

Publicada en 1961, El castillo de arena es una de las obras claves de Seicho Matsumoto, el maestro de la novela negra japonesa, en la que explora las luces y sombras de la sociedad nipona de mediados del siglo XX.

First, I am a long-time resident of Japan, so I'm very familiar with Japanese culture, though not the same Japan as depicted here in 1960 Showa Japan. This book both compelled and exasperated me. I rather like the methodical research done by Imanishi as he pursues leads, many of which don't pan out. On the other hand, I hated the coincidences and leaps of logic that struck me as highly improbable. I truly hated the subplot about what turned out to be an unlikely murder weapon (which I won't describe, as it's a spoiler).The depiction of Imanishi's wife made me laugh. Her only function is to prepare meals and suitcases, relate gossip from the neighborhood, and entertain Imanishi's sister, In a movie version, her character was dispensed with, to no apparent disadvantage. This book compelled me to read on, but I found myself equally pleased and displeased at what transpired. I may have given this book too many stars, but somehow I like it. ( )