The Mr. Moto Books
Acting on jordannamorgan's recommendation of the Mr. Moto films and Wikipedia's description of the Mr. Moto books by John P. Marquand, a couple weeks ago I found myself the proud possessor of four out of six novels. Unsurprisingly, given my track record, I zoomed through all four in less than a week.
Wikipedia supplies a lot of analysis in a lengthy and slightly disorganized article, which I have not completely read because Wikipedia users are not careful of spoilers. However, it seems pretty clear that, while both are excellent, the Mr. Moto of the movies is a very different creature from the Mr. Moto of the books. The former is "a benevolent InterPol agent" and "hero-at-large," while the latter is "a dedicated and cold-blooded spy for Imperial Japan." They take place in the 1930s, when Japan was making steady expanionist progress.
* Your Turn, Mr. Moto (1935)
* Thank You, Mr. Moto (1936)
* Think Fast, Mr. Moto (1937)
* Mr. Moto Is So Sorry (1938)
Each of these novels focuses on someone besides Mr. Moto, rather as the Morgaine books, while centered on and motivated by Morgaine, actually focus on Vanye. Wikipedia lumps all four of these men as "British or American expatriates," when in reality, all four are American and only one is truly an expatriate. They are all distinct individuals; some with obvious problems, some with none; some on legitimate business, some in difficulties. They all fill one of the spy-story tropes, of the uninvolved bystander getting involved involuntarily, but all react differently once they're in. They're individuals, they're interesting, and they draw the reader into the story. And yet they just miss being so dominating that there's no interest left for Mr. Moto. It's only as I've been writing this that I've realized how skillfully Marquand drew his cast to obtain such a fine balance.
Mr. Moto is defined by his dedication to the Emperor, and he carries out this dedication in his work, using other people, or killing them, whenever it is best for the Emperor. This characteristic is usually termed cold-bloodedness. I find that this term is defined either as being completely dispassionate, or being completely cruel. For Mr. Moto, it is complete dispassion. He has emotion, and displays emotion, but it has no influence on any of his actions that affect the Emperor. And for all that, he can be quite a likeable fellow. In some of the books, his interactions with the protagonist are primarily benevolent; in some, he definitely seems an enemy. It's completely dictated by whatever ends Mr. Moto is working for. Plenty of times I'm glad he's in the story, working things behind the scenes; because he's really not such a bad guy, is he? And then he says or does something that reveals that adamant quality underneath, and I blink, and shake my head, and can't quite comprehend. For instance: Mr. Moto cheerfully informs the protagonist that it's now no longer necessary for he, Mr. Moto, to have the protagonist killed. Mr. Moto is very, very happy at this, because he likes the protagonist. What's unnerving is that that liking would have made absolutely zero difference if the protagonist's death had remained necessary. But if there is no illogical mercy or compassion in Mr. Moto, neither is there any equally illogical malice or brutality.
This leads to one of my strongest impressions of the books: the sense of Eastern culture. It may sound fatuous, since I have little to compare to in either personal experience or other literature, but I feel that my understanding of both Japanese and Chinese culture, at least pre-World War II, has grown immensely. A culture is at once both fascinating and impenetrable to those on the outside. To begin to understand for one's self is hard enough; to convey that understanding to others is exceptional; and to do so within a suspenseful, plot-driven story is outstanding.
Wikipedia talks at length about the great plotting of the books, with many twists and changes. To be honest, I did not notice this as much. I was caught up in the pure suspense of it all. I didn't stay up until 3 in the morning reading these, but I stayed up later than I should have. They are quite absorbing and very carefully written. I am looking forward to re-reading them. I don't know if I read fast because I know I'll re-read the book later, or if I re-read the book later because I read it so fast the first time. The fact is that I do read the book fast first, because I'm on fire to find out what happens, and that I always re-read the book again later, often more than once, to savor the writing and the plot and discover subtleties. I have a very strong hunch that the Mr. Moto books will prove to have layer upon layer of subtleties.
Perhaps that is why this is rather an inadquate review. I can now review an Alistair MacLean book both with a clear sense of my reaction and with an understanding of how the one book fits into MacLean's overall writing style and writing history. That is because MacLean has a distinct and complex style of writing and plotting, and I've been reading his books repeatedly for years. Marquand's Mr. Moto books may turn out to improve just as much on further acquaintance. I'm certainly looking forward to finding out.
Wikipedia supplies a lot of analysis in a lengthy and slightly disorganized article, which I have not completely read because Wikipedia users are not careful of spoilers. However, it seems pretty clear that, while both are excellent, the Mr. Moto of the movies is a very different creature from the Mr. Moto of the books. The former is "a benevolent InterPol agent" and "hero-at-large," while the latter is "a dedicated and cold-blooded spy for Imperial Japan." They take place in the 1930s, when Japan was making steady expanionist progress.
* Your Turn, Mr. Moto (1935)
* Thank You, Mr. Moto (1936)
* Think Fast, Mr. Moto (1937)
* Mr. Moto Is So Sorry (1938)
Each of these novels focuses on someone besides Mr. Moto, rather as the Morgaine books, while centered on and motivated by Morgaine, actually focus on Vanye. Wikipedia lumps all four of these men as "British or American expatriates," when in reality, all four are American and only one is truly an expatriate. They are all distinct individuals; some with obvious problems, some with none; some on legitimate business, some in difficulties. They all fill one of the spy-story tropes, of the uninvolved bystander getting involved involuntarily, but all react differently once they're in. They're individuals, they're interesting, and they draw the reader into the story. And yet they just miss being so dominating that there's no interest left for Mr. Moto. It's only as I've been writing this that I've realized how skillfully Marquand drew his cast to obtain such a fine balance.
Mr. Moto is defined by his dedication to the Emperor, and he carries out this dedication in his work, using other people, or killing them, whenever it is best for the Emperor. This characteristic is usually termed cold-bloodedness. I find that this term is defined either as being completely dispassionate, or being completely cruel. For Mr. Moto, it is complete dispassion. He has emotion, and displays emotion, but it has no influence on any of his actions that affect the Emperor. And for all that, he can be quite a likeable fellow. In some of the books, his interactions with the protagonist are primarily benevolent; in some, he definitely seems an enemy. It's completely dictated by whatever ends Mr. Moto is working for. Plenty of times I'm glad he's in the story, working things behind the scenes; because he's really not such a bad guy, is he? And then he says or does something that reveals that adamant quality underneath, and I blink, and shake my head, and can't quite comprehend. For instance: Mr. Moto cheerfully informs the protagonist that it's now no longer necessary for he, Mr. Moto, to have the protagonist killed. Mr. Moto is very, very happy at this, because he likes the protagonist. What's unnerving is that that liking would have made absolutely zero difference if the protagonist's death had remained necessary. But if there is no illogical mercy or compassion in Mr. Moto, neither is there any equally illogical malice or brutality.
This leads to one of my strongest impressions of the books: the sense of Eastern culture. It may sound fatuous, since I have little to compare to in either personal experience or other literature, but I feel that my understanding of both Japanese and Chinese culture, at least pre-World War II, has grown immensely. A culture is at once both fascinating and impenetrable to those on the outside. To begin to understand for one's self is hard enough; to convey that understanding to others is exceptional; and to do so within a suspenseful, plot-driven story is outstanding.
Wikipedia talks at length about the great plotting of the books, with many twists and changes. To be honest, I did not notice this as much. I was caught up in the pure suspense of it all. I didn't stay up until 3 in the morning reading these, but I stayed up later than I should have. They are quite absorbing and very carefully written. I am looking forward to re-reading them. I don't know if I read fast because I know I'll re-read the book later, or if I re-read the book later because I read it so fast the first time. The fact is that I do read the book fast first, because I'm on fire to find out what happens, and that I always re-read the book again later, often more than once, to savor the writing and the plot and discover subtleties. I have a very strong hunch that the Mr. Moto books will prove to have layer upon layer of subtleties.
Perhaps that is why this is rather an inadquate review. I can now review an Alistair MacLean book both with a clear sense of my reaction and with an understanding of how the one book fits into MacLean's overall writing style and writing history. That is because MacLean has a distinct and complex style of writing and plotting, and I've been reading his books repeatedly for years. Marquand's Mr. Moto books may turn out to improve just as much on further acquaintance. I'm certainly looking forward to finding out.