Arnold was kind enough to make a special trip to the public library to borrow some books for me to read while I’m recuperating at home for the month. He seems to have his finger on the pulse of my interests, as his selection of books have utterly held me in thrall since I delved into their pages on Monday.

To be honest, reading is a pasttime I thoroughly enjoy, but generally have little time to indulge. Having nothing but time and no place to go certainly creates a rare and precious opportunity for me to lose myself for hours, traveling vicariously to faraway lands and learning more about things that interest me.

I blasted through Snakeskin Shamisen by Naomi Hirahara in little more than a day.

From Publishers Weekly (as published on Amazon.com’s website)
In youth-obsessed Los Angeles, maturity and reticence work in favor of the 70ish gardener Mas Arai, Hirahara’s reluctant hero, as he gets drawn into his highly enjoyable third mystery (after 2005’s Gasa-Gasa Girl). Mas leaves a party held for a friend at a Hawaiian restaurant early, but when the guest of honor turns up dead, Mas has to return to the restaurant to answer questions about anything suspicious he might have observed. A broken shamisen (a stringed instrument similar to a banjo) found at the crime scene, he realizes, indicates that the seeds of the murder were sown in Okinawa during WWII. As a Hiroshima survivor, Mas has his misgivings about examining the past too closely, but his strong sense of right and wrong propels him toward a just resolution. Hirahara’s sharp ear for dialogue and keen sense of place mark this as a superior read, but it’s her intimate view of the Japanese-American community and her wry portrait of the endearing Mas, with his fondness for gambling and Spam, that really make this series stand out. (May)

The familiarity of situations, foods, phrases, and of course, the Okinawan culture appeal to me, making this a fun, quick read. The only thing that peeved me somewhat was how the author chose to phonetically illustrate the Japanese accent of the main character with dialog such as:

“Itsu orai, Tug. I take care. I see youzu later.”

Youzu, Izu, itsu… for some reason makes my hair stand on end.

To her credit, however, the author does a fabulous job weaving some common Japanese words and phrases into the storyline and cleverly explaining their meaning without interrupting the flow of the story to define them. The plot itself is also quite intriguing and also gives readers a glimpse into a bit of Japanese-American history, the ravages of the Battle of Okinawa as well as the bomb in Hiroshima. If you can get past the “youzu, izu, itsu”, then I recommend the book for a nice diversion for a lazy Sunday afternoon.

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