This is the last of the small paperback Edogawa Ranpo editions with the nice floral-looking covers that I bought aaaages ago, before I knew about how easy it was to get and read Japanese ebooks (and before I might have gone for a more complete or differently organized edition). Or at least, it’s the last since of the ones I had left after I got rid of a couple since it turned out they were duplicates with stories I had in the a complete Kogoro Akechi edition. Anyway, in looking for physical backlog stuff to finish up, I figured I could polish this one off quickly and it would be enjoyable. I did read it pretty quickly, but I feel like not quite as quickly as I imagined, which made it feel like it dragged a little more than it should have, which is too bad. The volume is like, 200 pages (from memory), and it contains only two stories (roughly equal length): 陰獣 and 蟲. 陰獣 is a twisty mystery about like, a mystery novelist who ends up entwined with a married woman who seems to be stalked by another mystery novelist, and the ways and explanations for how that whole situation ends up going down. There’s (what I interpreted as) a lot of cheeky references to Ranpo’s other work, and like “those mystery novelists sure are creeps! What if they did the weird pervert crimes they dream up!” type of nudging, in a way that does build layers of creepiness and wondering just what exactly is going on, but also maybe feels a little gross, which I suppose is part of the fun if in the right mood, and off-putting if not, as usual with the エログロ side of Ranpo – I was more or less in the right mood I suppose, although I worry I’ll never be quite as fully in the right mood as I was for The Human Chair, just since it was my first of his stories and one I read when reading any Japanese at all still felt exciting and a bit inherently mysteriously. I was hoping for a little more actively eerie and horror-y tone from 蟲, and well, it certainly is that. It’s a story about a reserved and impersonable young man who begins to stalk a woman…
For the 1930s it feels ahead of its time in pushing the horror envelope in that way, much like other Ranpo standouts I’ve read. But it’s obviously not a pleasant read and I think ultimately I don’t think that this one is interesting or complex enough to make that unpleasantness feel that much rewarded or to stand on its own that well (or in a diptych as the case may be).
I suppose my next Ranpo will probably have to be that Akechi collection, but it’ll be interesting at some point down the line to figure out exactly how I want to tackle more of his work presumably via the ebook method…