The Devil’s Disciple

By Hamao Shiro
Translated by J. Keith Vincent

Hesperus Press (2011)
ISBN-13: 978-1843918578

Review by Laurence Green

In Hamao Shiro’s The Devil’s Disciple - the first of two short works collected together in this slim volume - a brilliant young man commits a cold-blooded murder. But there’s something distinctly odd at play here. It’s a crime born not out of a moment’s desperation, but from a wider curiosity and contempt for society’s moral codes. When a defence lawyer takes on his case, he’s drawn into a battle of wits that blurs the line between justice and evil. As the killer’s twisted logic unfolds, the lawyer begins to question not only the crime but his own conscience. It’s a razor-sharp, noir-style exploration of crime, intellect, and the seductive pull of immorality that blends the best in courtroom drama with more psychological elements.

Then, in the second tale – ‘Did He Kill Them?’ - the reader is plunged further into a fog of doubt, deceit, and moral ambiguity. When a man is accused of murdering his wife and child, the case seems clear-cut, until strange contradictions and buried secrets emerge. As the investigation unfolds, witnesses twist the truth, emotions flare, and the line between guilt and innocence vanishes. We’re made to constantly question our own judgement of the characters: is justice ever truly clear, or is every verdict a leap of faith?

Hamao (1896-1935) might have died tragically young at the age of just 39, but he packed a lot into his short career; first as a lawyer and judge, and then as a pioneering crime writer. Before turning to literature, Hamao - who was born into Japan’s ruling aristocracy - worked in the Ministry of Justice, which gave him an insider’s understanding of legal systems, investigations, and moral grey areas. All of this helped shape his writing, laying not only the foundations for modern Japanese mystery fiction, but also influencing later writers like Matsumoto Seicho - who are now experiencing a renaissance in popularity due to canny marketing and new translations from publishers like Pushkin Vertigo and Penguin.

But why was Hamao’s taut, cerebral crime writing such a revelation when it first hit the presses in 1920s Japan? As the insightful introductory note to the book tells us, Hamao’s work exists at a fascinating intersection between orthodox, deductory logic based thrillers (think Sherlock Holmes etc) and the more psychological heterodox style (rooted in the unsettling tone of authors like Edgar Allen Poe). By incorporating elements of both traditions, Hamao’s works not only captures the tone of a Japan undergoing rapid modernisation, caught at the nexus of a moment of historical change, but also are able to benefit from the best elements of both approaches. His characters use their wits to tease forth the plot, but also feel like real, flawed human beings. Hamao even incorporates a bold, ahead-of-its-time probing of themes of homosexuality in his characters, casting overtones that hint forward to authors like Mishima Yukio.

Translator J. Keith Vincent has clear form for this sort of stuff; his translation of Tanizaki Junichiro’s Devils in Daylight dealt masterfully with much the same ero-guro uneasiness, pairing weird voyeurism with Tanizaki’s typically clinical precise aesthetic lens. Vincent is also the co-editor of a seminal academic handbook on the subject: Perversion and Modern Japan: Psychoanalysis, Literature, Culture - so suffice to say, we are in safe hands again with Hamao’s work.

Short though they may be, the punchiness and brevity of these two novellas ultimately comes to be one of their finest qualities. Yes, there is clear space for the reader to exercise their own guesswork as to the morals and motivations of the culprits in these tales - but they are also propulsive enough to never outstay their welcome. Particularly in the title piece of this volume, the freshness and pacing of the piece is a marvel, as is the shocking brutality and explicitness - it is sometimes hard to believe it was written some one hundred years ago, so much something like a hard-hitting contemporary Netflix thriller it feels at times.

With this volume, Hamao can be well and truly added to the pantheon of other classic Japanese crime writers gradually being resurrected from the mists of the past - with the added verve of the sensual and horrific piquing the crime caper cocktail, there’s no doubts his unique brand of gruesome chills will win many new fans here.