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"The Flowers of Edo," by Michael Dana Kennedy (Vertical, $26.95)
These flowers, we discover, are an ironic and peculiarly poetic description of American star shells falling in the night over the blazing cities of Japan during the last desperate days of World War II. This is a fast-paced and reasonably exciting thriller of the "what if" genre, so well told and researched that it also falls into the "why not?" genre.
Kenji Kobayashi, a Japanese-American who had studied in Japan prior to the war, works for American military intelligence, encountering all the usual prejudices you might expect. The horrific and costly campaigns on Iwo Jima and Okinawa, however, launch a dangerous scheme to determine the state of mind of Japan’s leaders as the Allies’ Operation Downfall grows closer: Kobayashi will impersonate a Japanese officer and infiltrate the empire’s high command.
This is teeth-rattling stuff, and Kennedy does a superb job of painting the scenario and the attendant dangers. The book’s pacing feels a bit off, however, due primarily to the readers’ expectations. Fully half of the novel is devoted to planning the mission, and it’s interesting but also dispensable. "Flowers" takes off once the spy lands in Japan’s ruined landscape and has to deal with unexpected emotions and situations. It’s clear that the nation has no intention of surrendering and that slaughter is inevitable.
To Kennedy’s credit, the atomic bombings come as a surprise to everyone, even the Americans.
This is a well-told page-turner of an often overlooked period in Pacific history.
"Anoxic Zone" and "Halocline," by John G. Rees (Black Water, $14.95 each)
In the future, the oceans are toxic wastes controlled by multinational corporations. There is money to be made from the dangerous salvage of underwater assets, and so corporations hire divers for the chore. One catch: It’s so dangerous that the divers are routinely killed, and only their vampire blood keeps them going.
Jake, a bitterly disenchanted diver, and his scientist friend Johnny work for the corporation and discover that their mission is to help resurrect the most dangerous of the undead, the undead lord Vlad Tepes, the monster we know as Dracula. It’s all part of the corporation’s plan to increase profits, but Vlad is not that easily controlled.
These bookend novels — with another on the way — follow Jake and Johnny as they confront both Vlad and their own fears, as well as come to grips about what it means to be human in a world that discredits humanity.
It’s all extraordinarily written by former professional diver Rees, a Big Island resident, who has an imaginative talent for painting horror in an unusual setting. (He won an international award in May for best independent horror novel.) The underwater scenes in particular are frightening and claustrophobic, and it’s more than a little unsettling to imagine the undead at home in the sea. And you won’t find him using the term "vampire." It’s too old-fashioned for new horrors.
Even though these novels are independent publications, they are professionally produced with proper editing and typography and excellent cover designs.
Rees’ style is idiosyncratic and not for everyone, although it’s broadly funny on occasion. Jake and Johnny aren’t angels, and they are just as likely to snort drugs and curse before a campaign as drink coffee. In the future, it seems, in the polluted swamp we know today as the ocean, anything goes, for a price. Maybe it’s not that far off.
