What have I done?

I am on kind of a “ghost pictures” kick lately, where I find creepy old places and take long-exposure pictures in front of them while I or a model moves around.

🎵That’s me in the corner, that’s me in the spot light🎶

It’s fun and also feels really good when I manage to make my intended picture happen.

But the big problem is, I have trouble finding good places. There are only so many atmospheric abandoned train tunnels around, you know? So I put out a call. I used my monthly column in the local paper to ask peope to send me info on “places that look like they could be haunted.” I wasn’t expecting much, but then…

A man from a local orienteering club got in touch and said he’s seen all kinds of scary stuff in the mountains. Like gravestones standing alone.

Temples left to rot.

Mysterious sheds surrounded by deep holes in the ground.

And abandoned crematoria.

Now, I am well aware that is exactly what I asked for, but might be a bit, well, excessive? I don’t actually want to be haunted and/or cursed.

Or murdered by some hole-digging mountain shack dweller.

Anyway, I’m headed out with him this weekend. I shall be carrying plenty of salt and ofuda. But maybe I’ll get some groovy pictures out of it?

Review – The Night That Finds Us All

I think I have to finally admit it. I’m a John Hornor Jacobs fan.

The first book of his I read was Southern Gods, a sweaty, gritty myth of music and cosmic horror that I think I picked up in a bundle not long after its 2011 release. I remember enjoying it, and when I revisited it in later years it’s held up.

But I didn’t really plug into him as a name to watch for until I read The Incorruptibles, his alternative history/dark fantasy book of an infernal-powered Roman Empire in the Old West that he into a trilogy.

Since, I’ve enjoyed all the books of his I’ve read (which is all of them but The Twelve-Fingered Boy trilogy), especially A Lush and Seething Hell. There is something about the weight of his prose that makes it feel rooted deep, in history and myth and humanity, while still just being fun.

And so we come to his 2025 ocean-going cosmic horror The Night That Finds Us All.

It’s about Sam Vineworth (known affectionately as Sam Vines, which I would have bet was a Discworld nod but would have lost, according to the author), an alcoholic fuckup but he’ll of a sailor, recruited by a friend to help crew a century-old sailing ship from California to Britain.

The ship is, of course, much more than it appears. It has a shadowed history with more than a bit of blood, and it soon starts to prey on the crew.

Once again, Jacobs brings unpretentious flourishes of near-poetry.

I found myself thinking this voracious ocean came before mankind’s puny endeavors and will remain after, in some near future, eroding the shores and drowning the land and taking all our works with us, dragging them down to the bladderwracked mansions beneath the sea.

The bladderwracked mansions beneath the sea. God, what an image. Or…

The sky kills all the sea’s dreams.

This masterful imagery is matched by what I can only a scholar’s depth of nautical knowledge. Mizzens and reef sails and knots… It’s all here, and I’m not sure I understood it but I also duct think not understanding hurt at all. Because nothing hinged on those details, they only added in establishing that Sam, drunken mess that she is, knows her shit on a boat.

But be not afraid, this isn’t Moby Dick, with page-long paragraphs and endless digressions on marine wildlife. It’s a journey into a dark, cursed netherworld that’s full of dread and scares.

Another banger, in other words.

Listen to me talk!

The Japan Association of Translators Book special interest group has invited me to speak online about my budding career as a literary translator and my work translating Uketsu.

I plan to lay out how I got started on this path, the luck behind the Uketsu translations, and perhaps find some advice for those looking to get into the game themselves.

The schedule is April 18th from 3:00-4:30, Japan time. It’ll be on Zoom.

You can get the details and tickets here:

A Strange Turn of Events

I look forward to seeing lots of folks there!

Translating Strange Buildings

My English translation of Uketsu’s third, and longest, novel is out now worldwide.

The UK cover for Strange Buildings

Strange Buildings expands and improves on the core concept of Strange Houses, creating a multilayered narrative around the designs of 11 different buildings, which all end up woven into a much greater, and darker, story.

It reads to me as a much more mature, more assured work and I think it’s Uketsu’s best.

There was a lot to deal with in this one, as the many different chapters, or “Files,” take on different approaches and tones, giving me room to play with a variety of voices.

For example, in the excerpt from the old book in File 3, “The Watermill in the Woods,” I aimed for an old fashioned, somewhat stilted style, while File 7, “Uncle’s House,” called for the voice of a clever, if unschooled, boy.

It was a satisfying challenge to work on.

There is one big issue that arose in the translation that I would like to discuss, but it’s a bit of a spoiler. If you haven’t read the book yet, go do that now and come back when you’re done.

So, be warned: 

MINOR PLOT SPOILER AHEAD

In the File 9, “Footsteps to Murder,”  Hiroki Matsue reveals that he believes his father, who happens to be a Christian, murdered his mother and set fire to their house.

Later, our “great detective” Kurihara reasons this accusation away. Now, in the original Japanese version, his entire argument is basically: Mr. Matsue was not only Christian, his crucifix pendant indicates that he is Catholic, and the Catholic religion strictly forbids murder.

In Japan, where readers are by and large only vaguely aware of what being a Christian actually entails, that might fly. But not in any Western country, that’s for sure.  I mean, come on, watch The Godfather. The climax of the movie is proof enough that it’s a flimsy idea.

Anyway.

My editor at Pushkin and I brought this up to Uketsu and proposed a couple of changes. We recommended adjusting the Christian angle to include pacifism and activism, but most importantly, we wanted to add an actual logical argument that helped take Mr. Matsue off the suspect list.

Uketsu agreed, and the story was changed.

I am generally uncomfortable with the idea of changing actual story points, and would never do so without active input from the author, but seriously, that particular idea struck me as nearly fatal to the story. I could see quite a few  readers in the West refusing to take the book seriously after an argument like that. But, again, most Japanese readers wouldn’t even bat an eye at it. Only about 1% of the population is Christian here, so most people here don’t even know a believer.

So, we had a very successful book in Japan that we were pretty sure needed more than just words changed to really succeed in English. It needed structural changes, too. I think it worked out pretty well, and the core of the story remainss exactly as Uketsu intended it.

Translation: it ain’t just switching out words!