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review 2018-04-05 17:51
Unter der Mitternachtssonne | Keigo Higashino
180404 Unter der Mitternachtssonne
Autor: Keigo HigashinoTitel: Unter der MitternachtssonneÜbersetzerin: Ursula GräfeGenre: Japanischer KrimiVerlag: Tropen, [10.03.2018]Kindle-Edition: 721 Seiten, ASIN: B0789GTMVNauch als HC erschienenhier: Leseexemplar vom Verlag via NetGalley.de gelesen auf dem Kindle Paperwhite und über die Kindle-Appklick zu Amazon.de

Inhaltsangabe (Amazon):

Ein zwanzig Jahre alter Mord. Eine Verkettung unlösbarer Rätsel. Ein Detektiv, der entschlossen ist, das dunkle Geheimnis zu entschlüsseln.
Osaka, 1973: Der Pfandleiher Kirihara wird ermordet in einem verlassenen Gebäude aufgefunden. Der unerschütterliche Detektiv Sasagaki nimmt sich des Falls an, der von nun an sein Leben bestimmt. Schnell findet er heraus: Ryo, der wortkarge Sohn des Opfers, und Yukiho, die hübsche Tochter der Hauptverdächtigen, sind in das Rätsel um den Toten verwickelt. Beinahe zwanzig Jahre lang versucht Sasagaki mit zunehmender Verzweiflung, den Mord aufzuklären, in dessen Netz sich Täter, Opfer und Polizei verfangen haben. Bis über alle Grenzen hinaus, bis hin zur Obsession.

Meine Meinung:

Japanischer Krimi mit Detailreichtum

 

Nachdem ich die Japanische Literatur für mich entdeckt habe, ist Keigo Higashino zu einem meiner Lieblingsautoren geworden. Ich bewundere seine Art zu schreiben sehr. Obwohl ich einer völlig anderen Kultur entstamme und noch nie in Japan gewesen bin, fällt es mir immer wieder leicht, mir Situationen, Orte und Menschen vorzustellen, die er so detailreich beschreibt. Zudem liegt bei ihm der Täter nie auf der Hand, seine Krimis sind geradezu wie ein Origami angelegt. Man sieht entweder das fertige Kunstwerk vor sich und hat keine Ahnung, wie der Künstler aus einem kleinen Stück Papier diese Figur gefaltet hat – oder ein quadratisches Blatt Papier und eine Anleitung zum Falten. Es kommt bei einem Anfänger jedoch jedes Mal etwas anderes dabei heraus, und man kann die ursprüngliche Figur manchmal nicht einmal erahnen.

 

Die Ermittlung eines Mordes umfasst in diesem Kriminalroman nahezu 20 Jahre. Und es liegt keineswegs an unfähigen Ermittlern, sondern eher daran, dass es keinerlei Spuren gab, fast jeder Befragte etwas zu verheimlichen hatte und daher Dinge für sich behielt oder beschönigte.

 

Nach und nach wird die Lebensgeschichte eines Mädchens erzählt, von der Schülerin bis zur Geschäftsfrau. Sie ist wunderschön, liebenswürdig, hilfsbereit und geht ihren Weg. Doch scheinen immer wieder Menschen, mit denen sie in Berührung kommt, von einem Unglück heimgesucht zu werden.

 

Die Personen sind sehr detailreich beschrieben, die Handlungen nachvollziehbar, der Roman äußerst spannend, und so fällt es schwer, ihn aus der Hand zu legen, obwohl das Thema kein ganz so aktuelles ist, denn die Geschichte nimmt ihren Anfang im Jahre 1973. Die damalige japanische Hackerszene Ende der 70er/Anfang der 80er Jahre ist wichtiger Teil der Entwicklung. Mehrere Handlungsstränge sind hier verwoben und bilden am Ende ein perfektes Bild.

 

Mir hat das Buch wirklich sehr gut gefallen, ich gebe daher die volle Punktzahl von 10 Punkten.

buch_u_027

Zitat:

Junzo Sasagaki verieß den Bahnhof Fuse und ging entlang der Schienen nach Westen. Es war bereits Oktober, aber noch immer sehr schwül. Dennoch war der Boden so trocken, dass ein vorüberfahrender Lastwagen gewaltige Staubwolken aufwirbelte.
Kapitel 1, erste Sätze

180404 Unter der Mitternachtssonne1

 

Bücher des Autors:

 

 

Unter der Mitternachtssonne: Thriller - Keigo Higashino,Ursula Gräfe 

Source: sunsys-blog.blogspot.de/2018/04/gelesen-unter-der-mitternachtssonne.html
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review 2018-02-03 17:25
13 Stufen | Kazuaki Takano
180202 13Stufen
Autor: Kazuaki TakanoTitel: 13 StufenGenre: JustizthrillerÜbersetzerin: Sabine MangoldVerlag: Der Hörverlag, [10.11.2017]Sprecher: Sascha RotermundSpieldauer: [605 Minuten], ungekürztWhispersync for Voice verfügbarauch im TB- und eBook-Format erschienenhier: gehört über die Audible-Appklick zu Amazon.deklick zu Audible.de

Inhaltsangabe (Audible):

Das Erstlingswerk von Kazuaki Takano, der mit "Extinction" weltberühmt wurde.
Ein unschuldig wegen Mordes zum Tod Verurteilter soll hingerichtet werden. Der ehemalige Gefängnisaufseher Kihara und der auf Bewährung entlassene Jun'ichi erhalten den Auftrag, den wahren Täter zu finden. Für das ungleiche Ermittlerduo beginnt damit nicht nur ein dramatischer Wettlauf gegen die Zeit, sondern beide müssen sich auch ihrer eigenen Vergangenheit stellen.
Bestsellerautor Kazuaki Takano erzählt eine fesselnde Geschichte voller unerwarteter Wendungen und falscher Fährten bis hin zum furiosen Showdown.

>> Diese ungekürzte Hörbuch-Fassung wird Ihnen exklusiv von Audible präsentiert und ist ausschließlich im Download erhältlich.

©2017 Penguin Verlag. Übersetzung von Sabine Mangold (P)2017 der Hörverlag

Meine Meinung:

Japanische Gerechtigkeit

 

Mir war gar nicht so bewusst, dass es in Japan immer noch die Todesstrafe gibt, somit habe ich wirklich sehr interessiert und aufmerksam gelauscht, wie Takano das Rechtssystem in Japan von allen Seiten beleuchtet und Zweifel an der Richtigkeit der letzten Entscheidung, jemandem das Leben durch Erhängen zu nehmen, nicht nur zulässt, sondern die Zwickmühle in der Rechtsprechung anschaulich darlegt, und zwar nicht nur von Seiten der Vollzugsbeamten aus, die oft jahrelang unter der Schuld leiden, auch Häftlinge lässt er zu Wort kommen.

 

Wir haben hier einen spannenden Justizthriller mit gesellschaftskritischen Aspekten, aber auch eine Jagd nach Beweisen, um trotz Verurteilung eines Unschuldigen dessen Freilassung zu erwirken. Die beiden ungleichen Ermittler geraten dabei extrem unter Zeitdruck und müssen sich zudem mit ihrer eigenen Vergangenheit auseinandersetzen.

Mit vielen Wendungen und einigen falschen Fährten bei diesem ganz besonderen Plot gelingt des Takano, dem Leser einen Thriller mit langsam steigender Spannung und einem fulminanten Showdown zu präsentieren. Sein Schreibstil ist höflich und trotz einiger auftretender Emotionen, die allerdings als übertrieben angesehen werden, eher nüchtern und wurde in ein hervorragendes Deutsch übersetzt.

 

Die einzige Antwort, die das Buch nicht gibt, ist diejenige, auf die es ankommt. Der Leser soll daran hängenbleiben und sich mit ihr auseinandersetzen. Ist die Todesstrafe für mutmaßliche Mörder gerecht oder nicht?

 

Ansonsten erfahren wir sogar, was Jun’ichi Mikami seinem Partner bis zuletzt nicht erzählt und was zu einer ganz üblen falschen Fährte geführt hat. Für mich ist dieses Buch ein besonderes gewesen.

 

Sascha Rotermund hat einen wirklich guten Job gemacht. Ich habe ihm gern gelauscht.

Ich habe das Hörbuch sehr genossen und gebe 09/10 Punkte.

 

 

Bücher des Autors:

 

- Extinction – rezensiert 07.04.2015 – 11/10 Punkte
- 13 Stufen – beendet 02.02.2018 – 09/10 Punkte

 

13 Stufen - Der Hörverlag,Kazuaki Takano,Sascha Rotermund 

Source: sunsys-blog.blogspot.de/2018/02/gehort-13-stufen-kazuaki-takano.html
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text 2018-01-30 07:05
Blog Tour - Ibuki
 
TitleIbuki
Author: Kathryn Sommerlot
Publisher:  NineStar Press
Release Date: January 29, 2018
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 26000
Genre: Fantasy, LGBT, lesbian, fantasy, cleric/priestess, magic users, abduction, royalty

 

Add to Goodreads

 

 

 

 

Synopsis:

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Ibuki: the gift of healing through breath. Chiasa has possessed the ability since childhood and shares it with her father as they care for their Inuru community. Chiasa has never doubted the stability of her simple life. That is, until Namika, a water-gifted priestess, shows up outside the Ibuki shrine gates with information promising Chiasa’s doom.
 
With Namika’s help, Chiasa is determined to find the secrets behind the ritual that will claim her life, but her growing feelings toward the other woman reach beyond her control, adding to the confusion. Time is rapidly running out, and Chiasa can’t seem to sort out the lies woven through the magic of Inuru and its emperor.
 
Caught in a tangled web of immortality, betrayal, and desire, Chiasa must find the right people to trust if she hopes to stop the ritual—or she will pay the consequences.

 

 

 

Excerpt:

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Ibuki

Kathryn Sommerlot © 2018
All Rights Reserved
 
 
When Chiasa first saw the young woman standing outside the shrine, her throat seized in fear around a single thought: the emperor is dead. A moment later, she realized the woman appeared far more nervous than grief-stricken, and she relaxed, only to wonder why a seseragi priestess would be on her doorstep before the sun had fully risen.
 
The woman was unmistakably one of the water-chosen. Her hands were fidgeting and pressing tiny creases into the telltale blue of her silk robe, its pale folds hanging uneven above her shell-lined sandals, and above the short collar, a silver clip in the shape of an ocean wave held her hair in two overlapping plaits. She glanced down either side of the empty road, shoulders bowed, before starting up the stairs.
 
Chiasa hung back to observe.
 
It took the woman a minute or so to climb the steps that led to the small fountain, and with the shrine deserted, her footsteps echoed through the grounds. Her hair seemed to have been hastily done as an afterthought—long strands had come free and hung down her back like splatters of black ink across parchment.
 
She did manage a jerky half bow when she reached the slotted board holding the wooden ladle, though most of the water she then tried to pour over her hands ended up splashing onto the front of the blue silk, a testament to the shaking in her arms. Chiasa let her continue without interruption until she reached the top of the stairs and clapped her hands together before the silver bell. Any farther, and the seseragi priestess would make her way inside the sanctuary, to where the ibuki power-stone was held, and the thought was unsettling enough to push Chiasa forward.
 
“If I can help you with something,” Chiasa began, slipping out from her hiding spot between the side of the sanctuary and the hall of worship where she spent many hours praying in solitude.
 
The young woman started, nearly tripping on the hem of her robe. One hand went to her mouth as she stared far longer than was comfortable, and then she bowed again, the force of the action throwing the loose tendrils of hair over her head.
 
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t send word, and…well, I know it’s strange for me to be here, but I must speak with an ibuki priest, please.”
 
Chiasa took a step back, one corner of the hall’s intersecting wall panels jabbing between her shoulders.
 
“My father is the head priest, but he’s not here. He’s out with the herbalist to tend the sick. If you wish, I can leave him a message for when he returns—”
 
“It’s urgent,” the other woman whispered. “Please.”
 
At a loss, Chiasa looked around the shrine grounds she knew by heart. There was no one else to summon. Her father wouldn’t be back until much later, perhaps even after midnight, and old Isao was seldom of much use anymore, relegated to menial groundskeeping tasks and selling talismans. As the morning breeze broke through the tree line and nipped at the exposed skin of her cheek, she felt acutely alone.
 
Chiasa tried to imagine what her father might do were he present as the young woman, still bent in an awkward bow, began to shake with the exertion of it. Chiasa, afraid she would topple over entirely, sprang forward and dropped the broom she was holding, the tool clattering noisily across the pathway.
 
“He’s not here,” Chiasa repeated, though she wanted to help the woman when she was in such a state. “But please don’t panic, I will not send you away. If you’d like, I could make you some tea?”
 
“Yes,” the woman said. Her hands went to her face, cupping cheeks that were tinged with an uneven smattering of powder. As Chiasa watched, her gaze seemed to get lost in nothing, until she finally blinked and focused once again, settling on Chiasa’s face. Again, there was something sparking in her eyes that Chiasa couldn’t entirely read. The woman lowered her hands and nodded. “Yes, I would appreciate it. I’m sorry to intrude.”
 
Chiasa thought briefly of disagreeing, but it felt best to avoid lying. Instead, she led the seseragi priestess into the hall of worship and through to the small back room where they kept a low, small table and supplies unrelated to the shrine itself. There was a heavy iron kettle, which was so old that one side of it was slightly lower than the other, making the whole thing lopsided. Chiasa placed it onto the small fire in the center of the room with care and waved the smoke up into the open flume built into the roof’s small, soot-blackened bricks. Her strange guest knelt at the table, smoothing her silks beneath her knees.
 
“I don’t know when my father will return,” Chiasa apologized as she waited for the water to bubble. The other woman deflated somewhat, her shoulders curving in and over on themselves as she ran a finger over the grain of the table.
 
“Is there no one else?” she asked. Then, a half second too late, her eyes snapped up, wide and frightened. “I didn’t mean… I meant no offense. I’m sure you are quite capable at the breath—”
 
Chiasa waved her apology away. “I’m not offended. But I am afraid there is no one else. It’s only my father, myself, and old Isao.”
 
“Then, your father is part of the emperor’s circle?” the woman asked. The expression on her features changed from nervous to suspicious, and Chiasa couldn’t follow the reasoning behind it. Her guest tapped her fingers against the tabletop as she pursed her lips together, and her gaze shifted away from Chiasa and the teakettle. “Perhaps it was unwise to come here. I thought there were more in the ibuki shrine.”
 
The kettle whistled its completion, and as she poured the fragrant hibiscus blend, Chiasa frowned, puzzled by the transformation in both the conversation and the woman’s demeanor.
 
“My father is not advising the emperor today,” she said, again, in case it had been missed, as she handed the other woman the small teacup of hollowed bone. Her guest held the cup between her fingers, but didn’t sip from it. Her gaze seemed lost again, her eyes focused on something far beyond the table and the crackling fire pit, in a place Chiasa could neither see nor touch.
 
After quite some time, the woman raised her head once more. “My name is Namika. I suppose with your father too close to the source I should not have asked for him at all. You are the youngest within the shrine?”
 
“Yes,” Chiasa answered, though she regretted doing so in the next heartbeat when the oddness of the question fully registered.
 
Namika’s brow furrowed as her fingers knit together around the bone cup. “Then I must tell you of my discovery.”
 
“Discovery?” Chiasa repeated.
 
“I’m afraid it’s not good news,” Namika said and grimaced. “I was tasked with sorting through our cellar, where many of the old texts and records are kept. The majority of them are simply logs of visitors to the shrine and the actions our priests performed at the emperor’s command. But within the piles, I discovered what seemed to be a set of entries detailing the truth behind the emperor’s longevity.”
 
“The gods have seen fit to bless him with immortality,” Chiasa said, but she felt suddenly very cold, crossing her arms over her chest and running her hands over her sleeves. The small room seemed to constrict even further around them, squeezing the air from Chiasa’s lungs until she was gasping for it. They should not even be discussing the emperor. They were far too young and unimportant to think they had more wisdom than a man who had been ruling Inuru for nearly three hundred years, and despite their solitude within the shrine, Chiasa got the distinct feeling someone, somewhere, could hear them. The sensation sent toe-curling shivers down her back.
 
“No,” Namika said. She leaned forward, like she, too, was reacting to the sudden chill permeating the air. “It’s unnatural, his lifespan— He is stealing it, all of it; he is stealing his life.”
 
“That’s impossible,” Chiasa snapped. “No magic could grant a mortal so much time.”
 
Namika shook her head and set the cup of tea down, still just as full as when Chiasa had handed it to her. “He is stealing it through blood. He’s drinking blood to absorb the life within it and add it to his own.”
 
Chiasa stood so suddenly that the table shook, splashing tea across the surface. The scent of steeped flowers and herbs grew even stronger.
 
“You’re lying,” she said through clenched teeth, hands curled into fists at her side. The flash of indignation that flared up beneath her skin came from a source she couldn’t identify, but she knew from years of practiced obedience that it was necessary. “My father is on the emperor’s circle, and he would never allow such a thing, even if it were possible.”
 
“But that is why I had to come!” Namika exclaimed. “It’s written in the documents, by the seseragi high priest himself. I swear to you I did not come here with a lie!”
 
Chiasa wove her hands through her hair, tugging bits of it free from the tortoiseshell clasp holding the twist snug at the nape of her neck. Her father couldn’t possibly be implicated in such a monstrosity—and beyond that, the insult to the emperor weighed like a stone within her gut. The emperor protected them all. The emperor loved them all.
 
“It’s impossible,” Chiasa said, letting her hands fall back down to her sides. “What blood could possibly grant such—”
 
“Those with the breath!” Namika cried out and then sat back on her heels, cheeks flushed and pink. As Chiasa stared at her across the table, the unwanted and uninvited woman with the poison-tipped tongue of lies inhaled deeply and then pushed the air back out, slowly, through red lips.
 
“He is drinking your order,” she said. Her voice was far quieter, filled with something that sounded an awful lot like sympathy. “He is drinking the blood of ibuki priests.”
 

 

Purchase:

 

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

 

 

 

 

Meet the Author:

 

Kathryn Sommerlot is a coffee addict and craft beer enthusiast with a detailed zombie apocalypse plan. Originally from the cornfields of the American Midwest, she got her master’s degree and moved across the ocean to become a high school teacher in Japan. When she isn’t wrangling teenage brains into critical thinking, she spends her time writing, crocheting, and hiking with her husband. She enjoys LGBTQ fiction, but she is particularly interested in genre fiction that just happens to have LGBTQ protagonists. You can find Kathryn on her Website.  

 

 

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review 2018-01-27 11:00
War and Peace in Classical Japan: The Heiké Story by Yoshikawa Eiji
The Heike Story: A Modern Translation of the Classic Tale of Love and War (Tuttle Classics) - Fuki Wooyenaka Uramatsu,Kenkichi Sugimoto,Kenichi Sugimoto,Eiji Yoshikawa

Japanese literature has a lot to offer although little is available in English translation. One of the great writers known also in the western hemisphere is Yoshikawa Eiji.

 

The Heiké Story is an epic story of war and peace with sentimental sidesteps – set in Classical Japan and based on true events as well as characters! Well, not as epic and colourful as the Japanese original must be because the translator took it upon himself to decide which plotlines and details might be interesting for western readers. Despite all, the life story of Heita Kiyomori is an intriguing novel that makes the classical "Tale of the Heike" accessible to modern readers.

 

Please click here to read my long review on my main book blog Edith's Miscellany!

 

Source: edith-lagraziana.blogspot.com
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text 2018-01-25 04:47
Two steps forward, two steps back
The Imjin War: Japan's Sixteenth-Century Invasion of Korea and Attempt to Conquer China - Samuel Hawley

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to act on my determination to clear some of the books off of my TBR list. I identified a couple of books that I might enjoy reading, requested them through inter-library loan, and budgeted the time to read them.

 

Then this evening while surfing around I identified two books about the Imjin War that I added to my TBR list. So much for progress.

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