Subduction

By Todd Shimoda and L.J.C. Shimoda

Shimoda's best novel to date, and his first psychological thriller

Todd Shimoda was the winner of the 2010 Elliot Cades Award for Literature, given to Hawaii's top writer. Past winners include Paul Theroux & Ian MacMillan.

Shimoda's 2009 novel Oh! was picked as a summer best read by NPR's Morning Edition & a notable book by the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco.

The Fourth Treasure (2002) was translated into six languages and was named a notable book by the Kiriyama Prize. 100,000 copies in print worldwide.

The novel contains a book within a book of 16-page, 4-color art by Linda Shimoda which tells the ancient story of Kashima, a god who controls a thrashing catfish said to be the cause of Japan's earthquakes. The inserted book offers clues to the contemporary thriller surrounding it.

Linda Shimoda's 2-color calligraphic art throughout the novel adds depth of meaning to the story, as her artwork in Oh! did. NPR called that book "a kick in the pants to anyone who doubts the future of paper-and-ink books."

The first anniversary of the 3/11/11 earthquake and tsunami in Japan will bring renewed attention to this subject in spring 2012.

Participating in the CBSD January 2012 Galley Box

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chin Music Press Inc.
• Release date: May 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9780984457687

Todd Shimoda

Todd Shimoda has published six postmodern, literary novels, described as "philosophical mysteries." The novels have been translated into several languages. Along with writing and publishing fiction, he designs online educational applications, writes and edits in several areas of research including the environment, and tries to brew beer. His home base is in Southern California.

Book preview

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SUBDUCTION

a novel

Todd Shimoda

art by

L.J.C. Shimoda

cmp-bw-logoRED.ai

Chin Music Press

Seattle

Copyright © 2012

By Todd and L.J.C. Shimoda

Publisher:

Chin Music Press

2621 24th Ave. W.

Seattle, WA 98199

USA

http://www.chinmusicpress.com

First [1] edition

Cover and interior art by L.J.C. Shimoda

Book design by L.J.C. Shimoda

Production by Linda Ronan

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGUING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA is available.

ISBN: 9780984457670

Also by the author and artist:

Oh! A Mystery of 'Mono no Aware'

The Fourth Treasure

365 Views of Mt. Fuji

Also by the artist:

Glyphix for Visual Journaling

Front cover art: important to question

Back cover art: question all answers

1

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The patient, a healthy woman aged thirty-two recovering from a simple knee operation, suffered a fever spiking at 103 degrees. She moaned and rasped when, at the dragging end of a second consecutive day making rounds, I fought off a yawn and asked her where it hurt. Only a first-year resident, I was well on my way to becoming a brilliant diagnostician.

She could only wave a hand as if fanning herself from head to toe. Non-localized pain, I wrote in her file. Her surgery wound appeared clean from infection. There were no rashes or unusual skin discoloration. She moaned when I pressed lightly on her abdomen.

What’s going on here, Endo?

My supervisor, the knife-eyed Head Resident, peered over my shoulder.

Fever, some pain, some sensitivity in the abdomen. No sign of infection but we should do a blood test.

The Head Resident grabbed the file and scanned it. "We should not do a blood test. Clearly it’s gastroenteritis. Give her a dose of morphine for the pain. For the other, fluids and something for nausea."

But—

The Head Resident’s face turned red as his eyes widened then narrowed to mere slits. He shoved the file into my hands and left me with the patient. I wrote up his diagnosis and treatment. A first-year resident never challenges a head resident. Not without consequences.

The case wasn’t the first time the Head Resident forced a diagnosis and treatment on me, but it was the first time I couldn’t sleep thinking about it. My usual reaction was to acknowledge my limitations, accept his superior diagnostic ability. I have to admit I wasn’t the best student in my medical school class. Okay, I was near the bottom, although I don’t believe I was less intelligent than my classmates; most were as average as eggs. The main trouble plaguing my performance was poor cognitive attention. In class I would listen to the professor until my mind wandered to some other thought. For instance, the professor might be talking about muscle tissue and I might wonder what causes cramps. I would think about that for a few minutes, not listening to the lecture. When my attention returned, I’d be lost and would spend another few minutes figuring out what the professor was talking about. Of course, as soon as I caught up, my mind would wander again. I simply couldn’t help it.

Then there were the tests. Success on medical school exams is robustly correlated with gross memorization. As you can imagine, a med student with a wandering mind will have trouble trying to focus long enough to memorize all the facts. As in a lecture, I’d read a fact which would take me off on a different path from the topic at hand. I’d browse through reference books, trying to answer this question or that.

Back to the patient with the post-surgery fever. A simple blood test might have pointed to a possible cause of her fever and pain, but the Head Resident’s look told me it was an inefficient use of time and resources. Anyway, the Head Resident probably was correct in his diagnosis. So, no, it wasn’t the diagnosis keeping me awake; it was the image of the pain congealed around the patient’s eyes and mouth like a death mask.

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up

to me

I told her there was nothing to be alarmed about.

The doorbell to my hospital dorm room rang, waking me after what seemed a short nap, but the clock retorted it had been a solid seven-hour sleep. Still dressed from the day before, I groggily shuffled to the door and opened it to find the Head Resident and a senior hospital administrator.

I made spaces for them to sit down in my room, then opened the window to freshen the room’s stuffy air. Thinking an offer of something to drink would be appropriate, I started to mention it, but they didn’t look to be in the mood for refreshments. The hospital administrator rested her hands on her lap, properly and professionally. Contrasting with her, the tirelessly rigid Head Resident lounged casually as if bored.

After a brief apology for interrupting my downtime, the administrator said, We regret to inform you that your patient, Ms. Sunada passed away.

Ms. Sunada? The knee operation patient?

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ability

of one

The Head Resident spoke so quietly I barely recognized his voice. She died, Endo, of a burst appendix.

That’s severe but treatable. I barely recognized my own squeaky voice.

She passed out from the morphine. No one checked on her until the morning.

By then it was too late, added the administrator, her head bowed.

We were quiet for a moment, as if in respect for the dead. But I was reeling from the shock, my mind roiling and my heart thumping as if I’d sprinted up Mt. Fuji. I wanted to vomit violently.

The Head Resident broke the silence. If only you’d done a simple blood test.

My head whirled in his direction. His expression was as blank as the wall he was staring at, the wall of my dingy tiny room, my dingy tiny life. I knew then what was going to happen. And it was not good.

2

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I took the fall for the Head Resident, admitting I failed to take a blood test. It would have been his word against mine. In the end it really was my fault. Defying the Head Resident, I could have tested for a high white blood cell count indicating an infection, which would have pointed to the appendix. Yes, I would have lost my job going behind his back, but Ms. Sunada would likely be alive. As it was, I was immediately suspended from seeing patients pending a hearing. Two months later—long and stressful months—I had my hearing. The whole thing lasted less than an hour, the conclusion pre-determined. In exchange for accepting blame, I was offered a new posting through the government agency, Physicians in Service to Rural Japan, with an added perk: my medical school loans would be paid after four years of service.

A few weeks after the sentencing, I arrived at my assigned post—Marui-jima, a dust mote of an island, one of a chain dribbling off Japan far into the Pacific. The trip involved flying in a small plane from Tokyo to the largest of the islands, where I got on a hydrofoil ferry. Except for an older couple who disembarked at the first stop, the other passengers were in their late twenties or early thirties. By age alone, I could have been one of them. But they were on their way to scuba diving excursions, while I was heading toward banishment in one of the most remote corners of Japan. A visceral grip of envy made me woozy. Or was it the beginning of seasickness?

When Marui-jima finally poked out of the horizon, it looked too small to be inhabited. And as the ferry skimmed closer, the island repeatedly grew large, then shrank. Perhaps some mid-ocean optical illusion was disrupting my perception. Focusing on the horizon past the island, I discovered the action of the waves raised and lowered my perspective. The sensation increased when the ferry slowed and its hull lowered onto the sea. We were then at the mercy of the smallest waves, and the island became a restless bobbing cork.

Four derelict fishing boats were in the island’s pocket of a harbor. Two had foundered against the rocks of the jetty, one of them completely submerged except for the tip of its prow and a peek of its rotted decking. The other foundered boat leaned on the rocks; a jagged hole gaped in its hull. A seagull balancing on the edge of the prow squawked aimlessly. Of the two boats still floating, one had apparently been stripped of all usable parts and was now merely a hull and deck. The fourth boat appeared to be complete but floated low in the water.

As the ferry skirted around the boats and pulled up to the pier, the captain announced we would be docked for only a quarter of an hour. Passengers continuing on were welcome to go ashore but were warned to be back on time. I was the only passenger who stood to get off. The others stared at me, undoubtedly wondering why I’d be so foolish to risk being left on this wreck of an island. I wanted them to put me out of my misery.

Standing on the decaying wood-and-concrete pier on the brink of collapsing and sinking into the water, I watched the sweating crew toss out boxes and bags from the cargo hold. When I regained some of my equilibrium, I found my bags on the pile of cargo and hoisted them over my shoulders. I walked with a slight wobble down the pier to a ramp leading up to a ridge etched into the steep, eroded slope of the extinct volcano that formed the island. Cut into the slope was a rough-looking road. Both upper and lower sides of the road were crowded with houses and shops, most clearly abandoned.

A compact delivery truck with rust-pocked doors bounced down the road, then skidded to a stop at the bottom of the ramp. I guessed the driver, an elderly man wearing a stained and frayed floppy hat, was waiting for me to pass. Obliging him, I hurried off the pier as quickly as I could with my heavy bags and sea legs. When I reached the truck, I gave the driver a nod. I could now see another elderly man in the truck. Both men returned my greeting with stiff-necked nods.

At the open window of the cab, I said, Sorry to hold you up, but could you tell me how to get to the inn?

The driver mumbled something I didn’t catch. Whatever the driver said made the passenger hack dryly in a laugh. I apologized for not understanding and repeated my question. This time the driver leaned out the window and pointed to a building straight ahead, not more than forty or fifty steps away.

I thanked him then stepped aside. The little truck made an inelegant, jerky U-turn and backed down the pier, weaving from side to side so much I watched in fear that it would crash over the side. When the truck safely reached the pile of cargo, the two men crawled out of the cab so laboriously it looked like they’d been driving for days.

The truck driver talked with the ferry crew members while the other man, who had an extreme case of genu varum—bowed legs—marked a piece of paper as he inspected the cargo. Apparently satisfied, the two men began loading the boxes onto the bed of the truck.

I turned away from the pier and walked toward the inn. The fresh tropical air and solid ground dissipated my residual seasickness, only to be replaced by the crush of claustrophobia.

The ferry engines roared when I reached the inn. I nearly dropped my bags and ran after it. Instead, I watched it pull out of the harbor like a spurned lover driving away. With a sigh, I stepped inside the cool, shadowy quiet of the old inn. Like an old Buddhist temple, the inn smelled of desiccated cedar and incense.

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comfort and coercion

to continue

A tiny elderly woman appeared out of the shadows. She glanced at me, then looked behind me for a long moment as if expecting someone else. I told her I was Endo, the new doctor. She didn’t acknowledge my pronouncement, perhaps already knowing who I was. Or maybe she simply didn’t care.

Carrying one of my bags despite my vehement objections, the inn’s owner, Yoko Takahashi, led me across plank floors worn to a dull smoothness that chirped like crickets with each step. She told me the four-room dormitory her grandfather built at the turn of the twentieth century housed itinerant fishing boat crews when the island was a popular stop for the Pacific fleets. As the ships became larger and more powerful, they bypassed the island, and the inn rarely had visitors until the years before and during the war when the island assumed some strategic importance.

At least that’s what I pieced together. She spoke in the same rough dialect as the truck driver.

Several years after the war, she told me, the islanders attempted to attract tourists. But with the spotty transportation to the island and not much in the way of activities and amenities, especially the lack of a good beach, not many came. The last tourist visited in 1989, she said with a lilt of reminiscence. A swarm of earthquakes which began a decade ago scared away anyone else thinking about the island as a vacation spot. Now only government officials visit, she said in a thin, suspicious voice.

I was about to tell her I wasn’t a government official and really was a doctor, when she entered one of the rooms and hefted my bag onto a stand. She gave me a nod then left me alone in the room, the scent of incense trailing after her. After I unpacked my bag and hung up my clothes in the free-standing closet, I stared out the window. The room overlooked the harbor and the southeastern arc of the island. A dull haze obscured the horizon making it impossible to tell where the ocean ended and the sky began.

The stale, inert air in the room depressed me and caused a relapse of my claustrophobia. I tried to open the window but the panel stuck, probably jammed closed by a window frame out of square. I pulled harder and the flimsy frame splintered in my hands.

The poor old innkeeper, still standing in the doorway, cried out as if I’d stabbed her.

The island’s two-room health clinic overlooked the pier. Its wood siding was cracked, insect-ravaged, and weathered in some spots as thin as paper. The building leaned visibly toward the ocean-side of the ledge on which it was built. Inside, the clinic was permeated with a lingering odor of mildew, maybe severe foot fungus.

Squeezed in the front room were two chairs, a desk, a filing cabinet, and a small table. On the table sat a bulky, obsolete combination phone and fax machine. On the wall near the door someone had thumb-tacked a calendar advertising easy-to-swallow heartburn tablets. Posters from pharmaceutical companies added splashes of color to the room: one advertised iron supplements, one a cream for skin rash, another an asthma inhaler. Each poster was illustrated with a photograph of a smiling young model holding the company’s product or in a relaxed pose on a stylish sofa. The previous doctor must have desperately needed something to remind him of civilization. I imagined relationships with the models. All ended badly.

In the tiny examination room, I rested on the exam table and waited for a patient to visit me. What I knew about the Marui-jima residents was that they were ordered to relocate when the earthquakes grew more intense. The official sensitivity to the plight of the islanders was largely due to the government’s poor response to the Great Hanshin Earthquake of 1995, when more than five thousand people died in and around Kobe. The public’s condemnation of every branch of government for their inefficiencies and hesitations was loud. Then after the 2011 Great East Earthquake and Tsunami, the evacuations intensified. Most of the islanders obeyed the evacuation order but thirty or so, all elderly, protested and refused to leave. The holdouts continued to resist any attempt to dislodge them.

The front door opened. A man’s voice called out, Hello?

He was about my age, maybe a couple of years older, and was dressed in a short-sleeve blue work shirt, faded jeans, and scuffed hiking boots.

I assumed all the islander residents were senior citizens, I said.

He shook his head slowly. There are a couple of us. Three counting you.

We sat down in the front room, me behind my desk, he in the patient’s chair. One of my chair’s legs was shorter than the other, or the floor wasn’t level. Perhaps both. I shifted my weight to counter the imbalance and pin down the chair. Settled in, we introduced ourselves, he being Aki Ishikawa from Tokyo.

What brings you to Marui-jima? I asked.

Earthquakes. I’m a research seismologist. My specialty, if you’re interested, is earthquake prediction in subduction zones.

I’m very interested in subduction zones because I assume we’re in one, but you’ll have to educate me.

Ishikawa slid one hand under the other. A subduction zone is the area seismically affected by one tectonic plate sliding under the other. Our island is near where the North American plate slides under the Asian. Not to mention the Philippine and Eurasian plates are close, which adds to the pressure. The problem is the sliding doesn’t go smoothly though. He jerks his hands apart in a sudden snap of energy.

What I want to know is when is the next big one going to hit?

I hope not for a long time. A few small ones are all I need for my research.

But there could be a big one?

You sound hopeful.

I didn’t know if hopeful was the right word. Anxious? Ambivalent? I’m thinking if one hit that was big enough to destroy the place, I’ll get off the island sooner than four years.

You mean, if it doesn’t kill you.

I shrugged and nodded at the same time.

Four years. He drew out the words to make them seem infinite. How’d you end up here for four years?

Long story. To summarize, it was my own fault. I chuckled. Sorry about the pun.

"Huh? Oh, fault." He sounded as if he hadn’t laughed for a long time

Reviews for Subduction

[doskoipanda · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a beautifully presented tale of redemption and revenge set on an isolated fishing village in Japan. Beginning with the book itself, I received a hardback copy to review, the boards were covered , so no dust jacket, but in Japanese style there is an "obi". Because this is a book that is both a novel and an art book, the paper is very heavy, to the point that I wondered if the publisher had made an error. The paper is museum/gallery art book grade, which was good for the art, but not so delightful for the reading experience. The story unfolds slowly, and reminded me a little of Murakami Ryu in the treatment of the characters, though lacking the more extreme absurdities. A young doctor, as punishment for a mistake, is sent to a tiny fishing village to serve as their physician. The village is one that the Japanese government has wanted to evacuate due to the danger posed by earthquakes and seas, but the aging islanders refuse to leave their homes. The author does an excellent job in character development, and includes a legend about earthquakes as an intertwined side story. The illustrations are beautiful in an abstract way, but really don't lend much to the story, though they set a mood nicely.

[scrabblenut · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The book starts with a terrible incident where Endo, an intern in a Tokyo hospital, is treating a patient after a knee operation when she starts to complain of overall pain. The intern wants to order a blood test to determine if there is an infection as there seems to be nothing wrong. The resident says it is not necessary and to treat her with painkillers. The patient dies of a burst appendix during the night, and the intern is found at fault for not ordering the test, and sent in exile for four years to serve as clinic doctor for a remote fishing island off the coast of Japan.The island, Marui-jima, is full of abandoned or re-purposed buildings and has only a small number of elderly residents who have refused to be evacuated despite the threat of a large earthquake likely to destroy the whole island. They do not welcome strangers, and do not want a doctor at their clinic. On the island, the doctor meets only two younger people, both outsiders like himself. One is Aki, a scientist studying earthquake prediction and trying to set up an early warning system on the island. The other is Mari, an attractive documentary film-maker, filming the life stories of the remaining inhabitants on the island.The interaction of the younger people, the cranky inhabitants, and their individual stories makes for a compelling read. Throughout the book are puzzling illustrations and enigmatic phrases which add to the atmosphere and foreboding. Why are each of these people here and how are they connected? Things are not as they first seem. I really enjoyed Subduction and it stayed in my mind long after I turned the last page.

[yarb_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This novel begins promisingly, as a young doctor is exiled to a remote (in more ways than one) island full of creepy old people with dark secrets. There are two other non-native youngsters there and a classic love triangle quickly develops.Shimoda's style is plain, quite subtle, with flashes of wit, and well fitted to the telling of a tale like this which seems to teeter on the edge of an abyss of weirdness without ever quite toppling in.I suppose it's a story about boundaries, and conflict, and repercussions.Various narratives are nested within the main one, and it's not always apparent what purpose they serve other than as distractions. The ending is marred, for me, by a couple of unlikely coincidences which undermine the suspension of disbelief.The frequent illustrations are nice at first but they don't seem to bear on the story at all. Far better is the illustrated telling of the myth of Kasima, god of earthquake-protection, inserted 2/3 of the way through.

[vivienner_3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

When Endo, a young doctor, mishandled a case, the patient died. As a result, Endo is banished to the island of Marui-jima in disgrace. His job is to look after the health of the few elderly residents who have refused to leave the island despite the risk a strong earthquake and the damage it would have on their neglected buildings.The only other outsiders are Aki, a seismologist and Mari, a filmmaker determined to uncover the stories of the secretive residents.. Like Endo, both Aki and Mari have their own secrets.The story is interrupted briefly by the legend of Kashima and the Giant Catfish, which reminds the reader that real life and legends are intertwined. Kashima, the god of earthquake protection, has to keep the giant catfish under a stone because its thrashing deep in the ocean is what causes earthquakes. Just as the islanders' stories have to be kept under control too.Although there are only vague suggestions of a mystery unfolding, the story is compelling and entertaining. The dismal surroundings are relieved by a subtle humour. Shimoda proves he is a master story-teller.Subduction is published by Chin Music Press, known for books of superior design. This one is no exception. It is further enhanced by L.J.C. Shimoda's intriguing illustrations. Recommended.

[jotoyo_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

What I like about Subduction by (Todd Shimoda) is the way the artwork (by L.C.J. Shimoda) blends with the story. It is not just illustration, but is an integral part of the story telling. Every few pages we are treated to an illustration using 2 or 3 levels of artwork (Japanese characters, line drawings and photographs) which by themselves are very thought provoking. The way the story is printed on the page has 2 levels as well, the main storyline is told in regular type and the individual stories of the characters pasts is told in a lighter weight typeface which can be a little distracting and hard to read for my old eyes. But the story that Shimoda tells is worth it. The action takes place on an island of the coast of Japan where earthquakes can and do happen on a regular basis. The characters are deftly portrayed and their stories kept me interested. Without giving away anything, the ending for me was a bit disappointing. Shimoda does have a good grip on his style and I would like to read another of his novels at some point.

[jjackunrau · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The best part of Subduction is the art and page design. This isn't to discredit the writing, though I found it a little stilted at times, but the way the book looks and feels is the real draw for me. The connection between the Kashima myth and the rest of the book was also great. I would love to read more by the Shimodas, but it'd need the art and design for that to remain true.

[kidzdoc_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This novel is set on a small island in Japan, one which is plagued by frequent earthquakes and populated by an isolated group of mostly older citizens whose greatest fear is that the government will forcibly remove them from their beloved island. Jun Endo is a disgraced young physician, who is assigned to become the physician for the islanders. He is originally viewed as an outsider, reluctantly gains the trust of several of the residents, but then is shunned by them after he makes inquiries into several hidden secrets and mysterious occurrences. He is befriended by two strangers to the island, a young seismologist and an attractive woman who is making a film about the island's residents. Tension mounts after a death on the island, and as earthquake activity increases, as the islanders become openly hostile toward its visitors."Subduction" is a very good psychological novel and mystery, which is enhanced by its frequent illustrations by L.J.C. Shimoda.

[noveltea_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A disgraced young doctor is assigned to a remote, sparsely populated and earthquake-prone Japanese island. In addition to the elderly residents stubbornly defying an evacuation order, he finds two people near his own age: a seismologist and a woman who's filming the island and collecting stories. The doctor--our narrator--has too little work to do and too much to drink, and he falls prey to paranoia. Someone may or may not be out to get him, but we don't know until near the end of the book, and that's what I liked most about the story: wondering how much he was to be trusted, either as a doctor or as a narrator. I liked the eerie setting, the dry humor, and the unsettling tone, yet on the whole I was disappointed in the story, which seems to be about the most profound mysteries until it ends up being about relatively mundane ones.I found this abundantly illustrated novel to be as much an art gallery-type experience as a literary one. The book is such an exquisite visual object, when I came across examples of carelessness in the text itself (misspelled words, verbs in the wrong tense), I wanted to think the errors must be deliberate, for some reason that would be explained in the course of the story. But no. Between the beauty of the book and the potential of the story's premise, the novel seems to promise a literary experience that it doesn't deliver. It's not a bad book, it's just not nearly as good as I thought it had every reason to be. Five stars for the art, three for the story = four stars.

[ocgreg34 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Endo, a young physician beginning his residency at a hospital when one of his patients begins complaining of stomach pains. Endo wants to run a blood test, but the Head Resident disagrees, instructing Endo that the pains are only gastroenteritis. Not wanting to disobey the Head Resident, Endo reluctantly agrees with his decision, but the patient dies as a result of a ruptured appendix. The hospital decides that Endo is to blame for the wrong diagnosis, and the Head Resident readily confirms that decision. Endo doesn't protest, again not wanting to go against the establishment and is forced to spend the next four years on a small Japanese island of Marui-jima as penance, serving as the doctor for the few residents who still remain.Marui-jima made the headlines a few years earlier thanks to a series of devastating earthquakes and the government's attempt to re-locate the remaining islanders to the mainland. Those earthquakes still continue, but the stubborn residents refuse to leave, even after the many warnings from the government. Now, it's up to Endo to provide medical care for them.The islanders, however, view him and any other outsiders as working for the government, trying to find some way to get them to leave. Endo immediately meets with the islander's distrust and tries to make friend with two other outsiders on the island -- Mari, a filmmaker attempting to finish her documentary about the islanders, and Aki, a scientist studying the earthquakes in order to discover a way of predicting them. Endo gets to know them, listening to them tell stories about the island and its inhabitants, slowly unveiling a mystery about a love triangle that resulted in the untimely death of one of the richest men on the island. As the earthquakes begin to occur more frequently, Endo finds himself getting caught up in the mystery and strives to understand his own past.With "Subduction", I found myself caught up in Endo's exploration of the island and discovering the backstories of each remaining resident. Their past makes for a good mystery. But the story hints that the islanders and their mystery are tied somehow to the earthquakes, but that tie is tenuous and doesn't feel as if it's explored to the fullest. I kept expecting some revelation about how the earthquakes didn't begin until the death occurred or something stronger that keeps the remaining islanders tethered to Marui-jima. The story was peppered with that expectation -- not just about the islanders and the earthquakes, but also with the scientist Aki and his true reasons for being on the island. I felt that I was missing some integral piece of information about him that was hinted at but not explored.The illustrations are nice, but after the first few, I couldn't tie them to the story and wound up skipping those pages. Though, they fit well with the mini-story within Subduction concerning the myth of the god Kashima."Subduction" tells a good story, but I can't help feeling that something was left out that would have left me satisfied with it.

[hrabbit_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I have been a fan of Todd Shimoda for a long time, and I was delighted to get a chance to win and review this book. First of all it is beautifully done, and it is like adding a piece of art to your book shelf.The story is dark and the illustrations suit it very very well. You feel as if you are being literally drawn into the island. It's almost scary to read since you get further and further immersed in the island.Earthquake tales are timely, and the characters and the way they feel about their island rings true. This book will give you a view of a kind of Japan that most people don't realize exists.

[phoenixterran · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Subduction, a novel written by Todd Shimoda with artwork by L. J. C. Shimoda, was published by Chin Music Press in 2012. Todd Shimoda is an American author who lived for at time in Japan and who frequently includes Japanese themes in his works. L. J. C. Shimoda is a book designer and artist who also happens to be Todd Shimoda's wife. The two have collaborated on several other novels together including Oh! A Mystery of Mono no Aware (also published by Chin Music Press), The Fourth Treasure, and 365 Views of Mt. Fuji. Before reading Subduction I wasn't familiar with their work although it does seem to be well received by readers and critics. I was happy when Chin Music Press sent me a review copy of Subduction for review so that I could experience the Shimodas' work for myself. I've read a couple of Chin Music Press' nonfiction publications, but Subduction is the first novel from the publisher that I've had the opportunity to read. I continue to be impressed by the physical quality and beautiful design of the books from Chin Music Press.Jun Endo was a young doctor completing his residency in Tokyo when one of his patients dies unexpectedly. He is blamed for her death and ultimately as a result he is sent to the remote island of Marui-jima to serve as the doctor for its aging population. The small island is plagued by earthquakes. Due to the increase in seismic activity the Japanese government tried to evacuate its community but a small number of older residents have refused to leave. They're not too happy with Dr. Endo's presence on Marui-jima, either. Only two other outsiders currently live on the island: Aki Ishikawa, a seismologist who hopes to develop an early warning system for earthquakes, and Mari Sasaki, a documentary filmmaker who is collecting the stories of Marui-jima and its people. Aki and Mari are also the only people even close to Endo's age. The rural, secluded Marui-jima is a far cry from the urban, crowded Tokyo. Unless there is a disaster, Endo is destined to remain in the unwelcoming environment for four years.L. J. C. Shimoda's artwork is a lovely addition to Subduction. I liked it quite a bit. The pieces are largely abstract with a heavy influence from Asian calligraphy traditions. She occasionally includes portions of photographs in her artwork, creating a simple collage-like effect. At first I didn't consider Shimoda's art to be an integral part of Subduction, but after finishing the novel I came to realize that it added a layer to an already layered story and that it helped to establish the overall mood and tone. Without the artwork, Subduction would have been an entirely different book. Also included in Subduction is a retelling of the myth "Kishima and the Giant Catfish." I found its placement to be a little strange--it interrupts a chapter partway through--but it's a wonderful tale. Shimoda changes her art style for this section of the book, using more color and taking inspiration from traditional woodblock prints associated with the story.I mentioned that the story of Subduction is a layered one. Once Endo arrives at Marui-jima, the residents' stories begin to overtake his own. He slowly learns more about those living on the island, but he doesn't come any closer to really understanding any of them. Tragic events from forty years ago continue to have profound consequences on the island's community. Aki, Mari, and Endo all bring their own demons with them, too. The intersections of people's pasts and personalities as they come up against those of others create fault lines in their relationships that are just as dangerous as Marui-jima's. The atmosphere of Subduction is vaguely ominous as Endo is confronted with the fact that he is unwanted. The older residents form an insular community and they are willing to protect it in any way necessary. I found Subduction to be a very intriguing novel with some suspenseful twists. Based on Subduction, I'd certainly be interested in reading more of the Shimodas' work.Experiments in Manga

[esta1923 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

“Subduction” a novel by Todd Shimoda, with art by L.J.C. Shimoda Todd Shimoda takes readers to Marui-jima, a sparsely inhabited, earthquake-prone island where strangers are not welcome. We read from the comfort of our homes though currently earthquakes are local news in several parts of the world. The book’s calligraphic illustrations by L.C. Shimoda create an appropriate sense of unease. There are full pages of red with cryptic phrases printed in white letters. The four page epilogue has white letters on dark red background. By contrast, golden pages bracket the myth,“Kashima and the Giant Catfish.” The elderly people living on Marui-jimaare are longtime residents, persisting in defiance of a government evacuation order. Endo, a physician on a four-year assignment to the island finds Aiki, a seismologist, and Mari, a documentary filmmaker, who had come from the mainland recently but have already learned some of the dynamics of the islanders. As do we: especially as we witness a funeral ceremony where family and friends each write a poem about the deceased.***A wonderfully illustrated retelling of the myth of Kashima and the Giant Catfish is inserted between pages 192 and 193. I saved it to read after I’d finished the book. (And now I’ve already reread it twice!)

[larxol_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Subduction, the title for Todd Shimoda's most recent novel set in Japan, refers to the geologic processes deep below that manifest themselves as the earthquakes we feel at the surface. The author's story imitates the science, with the visible incidents of life on a remote and isolated island driven by deep currents that only slowly become understood. The population of the island consists of some stubborn older natives who refused evacuation after severe earthquakes end the local fishing economy. Three young outsiders are thrown together on the island – a doctor exiled from Tokyo, a film maker who says she is working on a documentary about the islanders, and a scientist testing an earthquake warning system. Their story has many parallels with the Japanese legend of the god Kashima and his task in controlling the giant catfish Namazu, whose thrashing causes earthquakes. The legend is re-told in a short version inserted in the middle of the novel. The plot of the novel is a bit of a mystery story, and I won't comment beyond saying that I'm not sure sufficient foundation was laid for some of the revelations at the climax. One stylistic quirk brought me up short – there are several instances in the book where one character relates to another a story about some incident in his or her own past, or even from the past of a third party. As soon as the story starts, though, it is in the voice of an omniscient narrator, not the character who started to tell it. The author sets these passages off in another text font, but the narrative jiggery-pokery sends the reader off wondering about the story-telling, not the story. Like Shimoda's other books from Chin Music Press, this is a beautifully produced and printed edition. Also like his earlier books, this one includes many brush-and-ink illustrations by L.J.C. Shimoda, mostly what I would call pseudo-calligraphy. Those earlier books, however, dealt directly with themes of Japanese aesthetics. I didn't find the illustrations added much to this story. The exceptions are the representational pictures for the Namazu legend, which draw on the traditions of the many ukiyo-e renderings with their delightfully grinning catfish.

[detailmuse · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Subduction is a story of collision -- of the earth’s tectonic plates and of a small cluster of people who refuse to evacuate Marui-jima, a Japanese island increasingly prone to earthquakes.It’s narrated conversationally (and with wry humor) by young physician Jun Endo, who was blamed for a patient’s death on the mainland and sentenced to serve the remaining years of his medical residency among the old fishermen on that “dust mote of an island.” To Endo’s relief, there’s also a young male seismologist doing research on the island, and a young woman filming a documentary, and the three of them ease into a companionship tinged with competition and paranoia.So goes two-thirds of the book, which I made two false starts on before finally finishing now. When an unexpected death occurred on the island, things got more interesting ... and stayed so until a quick, convenient ending. The physical book is also interesting -- smooth (almost glossy) pages, two-thirds of which are text while the other third is abstract Japanese artwork backed by blood-red blank pages and captions. It’s beautiful, except the red pages are visually harsh and the art and captions interrupt and frustrate (I couldn't connect them to the story). After the Shimodas' previous Oh! A Mystery of mono no aware, this novel was disappointing.

[jolleyg_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Three outsiders wind up on Marui-jima, an earthquake-prone island somewhere off the coast of Japan. Jima in Japanese means island. Marui would usually be translated as round, but it could also mean harmonious and calm. This latter meaning is ironic considering the constant earthquakes and the hostile reception that the outsiders receive from the remaining inhabitants of this nearly deserted island, who are mostly elderly people. All the other residents were willingly relocated to the mainland by the government after a particularly strong earthquake caused a lot of damage.The main character, Jun Endo, is a medical intern who had an unfortunate situation occur with a resident doctor that ended in the death of a patient, and Endo was forced to take the blame. He has been exiled to Marui-jima for four years to serve out his internship.Aki Ishikawa is a scientist who studies earthquakes and is working on an early detection system in order to help save lives. Nevertheless, the islanders are very suspicious of him and see him as a government man who would like to remove them from their homes.Mari Sasaki is a filmmaker who is working on a project to film the islander’s stories. Even though Aki, the scientist, is ostensibly married (but separated from his wife while working on his project), Mari is a point of romantic interest and tension between the single Endo and Aki. Endo makes some headway with her and is constantly preoccupied by his suspicion that Aki is spying on them.All three of these characters have secrets that they are not willing to talk about, yet some stories are shared. Mari is the one who seems to have a gift for making people tell their stories, and she shares what she has learned with Endo. She knows that he has a story to tell as well, and is hoping to pry it out of him. When Mari shares these stories, they are printed in a slightly grayed-out typeface to distinguish the stories from the novel’s main action.Many of these stories are about power struggles, unfaithfulness and violence between the natives on the island. And Mari shares stories about herself and Aki that are also filled with emotional difficulties.The word subduction is defined early on in the book when Endo reads a scientific paper that Aki has written. Briefly, it is the flow of one of the earth’s tectonic plates when it slides under another. This is clearly a metaphor for the subducted effects of emotions as they are suppressed and cause eruptions on the surface.At a critical point in the book, one of the characters is murdered, and this causes a chain of events that reveals all secrets.To close, I must comment on what a beautiful book Subduction is. It has a hard binding and is illustrated throughout by Todd Shimoda’s artist wife L.J.C. Shimoda. Printed on glossy, high-quality paper, it is an especially enjoyable read.