Nan-Core Hardcover – April 21, 2015

As other reviewers have mentioned, Nan-Core begins when Ryosuke visits his father's house and discovers four notebooks that seem to detail a history of murder and mental illness. While he initially considers that these might be fictional exercises by his father, the journals connect to a troubling period in his childhood, making him determined to find the truth.While this isn't a groundbreaking premise, it's a solid one that sets up the novel's later twists and revelations. However, while Nan-Core certainly involves a mystery, it's hard to classify it as belonging to the "mystery" genre, as defined by Western standards. Horror may be a more appropriate genre, though Nan-Core's horror belongs to a more psychological category. At heart, I felt that the mysteries--while clearly driving the plot--ultimately have more to do with the human capacity (or lack thereof) for love and forgiveness, with the ties that bind even the most troubled of families.I read the reasonably lengthy novel in a day and a half, so obviously, the plot was engrossing to me, and the characters later were, as well. But Western readers should consider whether they enjoy contemporary Japanese mysteries, if they have any experience with the genre; the novel is relatively long, and while its story begins with a hook, I can't really classify it as a page-turner in the American sense.Further, the language, while emotionally clear, often suffers from minor cases of stilted diction. I'm not certain whether this is due to the source material or translation, but they read more as artifacts of translation. This is not to say the translation is poor by any means. Most impressively, the more abstract, philosophical descriptions avoid cliches, and the novel's circular, thematic elements are present but not overdone.Ultimately, I think one's appreciation of the novel will be determined by one's opinion of, and investment in, the characters. The main character is fine, but feels in some respects like a cipher compared with others whose roles are more restricted (either in time or, in the case of the journal entries, compartmentalization). However, the supporting cast feels realistic and sympathetic, leading to a conclusion that is surprisingly emotional and--against all expectations--optimistic about human nature and the redemptive powers of love and commitment.

Came perfect. Hardcover, and it was library bound, which is perfect protection. Definitely worth getting your copy from this seller.

This was only a so so book. There wasn't much that really moved me or interested me through out. Tepid.

Nan-Core is a twisted crime story that should satisfy the most Gothic of tastes. Think of the Japanese analogue to Edgar Allan Poe, combining two strands in Poe’s writings: his imaginative and extreme explorations of the macabre and his complicated puzzle mysteries, which make logical sense but are probably too extravagant actually to happen. Or, closer to us in time, there are Cornell Woolrich’s obsessional meanderings through the dark, closed minds of his depressed, scared, sometimes demented protagonists. According to Wikipedia, since roughly 2012 there has existed a sub-genre of Japanese crime fiction called lyamisu, “which deals with grisly episodes and the dark side of human nature.” Numata has won two awards for this type of fiction. Vertical, her English-language publisher, lists Nan-Core under crime fiction but it could fit equally well under horror. Except . . . except that there is a mystery in it, it does involve (multiple) killings, and it’s up to the narrator to solve the puzzle of who did what when and why.Ryo has troubling memories of his childhood. He stayed in a hospital for several weeks and when he returned home, he was convinced his mother had been replaced by a stranger. Gradually the impression died away but all through his life, something inside him has felt out of place, ”like a milk tooth that was loose but wouldn’t quite come out.” He grew up, had his own business, a café for people who had dogs could meet and sip tea together. He had a girlfriend, Chie. They were love. But then one day she simply vanished without a trace. And then his mother died, hit by a car, and now his father is dying of cancer. He decided to stop by his father’s house. No one is there. He wanders through the rooms, enters his father’s study and is about to leave when he notices an open panel in a closet. Inside were boxes. It looked like his father had pulled out and then replaced the one on top. He opens it and the story begins. There’s a musty old handbag at the bottom of the box: it doesn’t look like it had been his mother’s. Inside is a small packet of paper, and wrapped in it a lock hair, black hair. He looks some more and comes across four small journals. He opens the first to read this line: “Is it an abnormality in my brain structure that allows people like me to kill so easily?” It’s the secret diary of a serial killer. The more he reads, the more confused it gets. Who wrote it, his mother or his father? And are the events described in it real or made up? Eventually, he wonders again about his mother: was she his mother or was his real mother replaced, wiped out and replaced, years back by a stranger, and if so, why? The question of what‘s true and what’s not gets harder to resolve the more he explores. The ending is appropriately labyrinthine and there’s more blood –fresh blood, this time—before the book ends. If you’ve enjoyed the more obsessional and abstract works of Japanese modernists like Yukio Mishima or Kobo Abe’, you’ll appreciate the virtues of this over-the-top crime novel, which is compulsively readable.

Totally cool and unexpectedly weird, this is a translation from Japanese, a gothic noir that never stops. I found myself reading compulsively, and holding my breath at times, anxiously awaiting whatever was around the next corner. Ryosuke visits his dying father's home, finding 4 journals, notebooks filled with a mix of mental illness and murders. The story is told by the journals and Ryo, managing to seamlessly weave between the two methods. A mix between horror and mystery, crime and suspense, it's hard to describe and impossible to put down once you begin reading.Ryosuke himself is a fascinating case study. Having been hospitalized as a child, he returns home to find his mother, the same one he's always had, seems to have been replaced by another, but he can't figure out the whys of his feelings. Later as he grows up, he is an established businessman with a successful cafe, a loving girlfriend, and full life. Then, his girlfriend disappears without a trace. In short order, his mother is hit by a car, killed in an instant, and his father is ill, dying of cancer. These weird notebooks, seemingly written by one of his parents, seem to be that of a pathological murderer. With his brother's help, they set out to solve an unnerving and eerie case.While the final quarter of the book loses steam, I still found so much here that was rich and nuanced, that I was not even really disappointed by the sudden turn. It's unnerving and will stick with me for some time to come. And really, that's what I look for in a successful read.

A weird,dark mystery novel that has a heartwarming climax..