100 Books Like Death Among the Undead

Edogawa Rampo is the father of Japanese detective fiction, and this macabre short story collection is a perfect introduction to his work. While not detective stories per se (he’s written some that are), these stories showcase a series of works that are fascinating, varied, dark, and very fun to read. 

Borrowing from elements from Western Silver Age detective fiction but adding elements of the grotesque and twisted, he is very distinct from all the Western mystery fiction I’ve read from a similar era. Since detective fiction formally started with Edgar Allen Poe and his C. Auguste Dupin in macabre stories, this seems a throwback to that storied history for me.

I like macabre mysteries with compelling hooks and clever resolutions that blow my mind, and this book does exactly that. Japan has a long tradition of writing “fair play” mysteries, which they call honkaku novels. These borrow from the Golden Age of Detective Fiction in the vein of Agatha Christie but certainly are their own category. 

These novels are like puzzles, focusing on the rules of fair play by giving readers all they need to figure out the mystery. This story was my first honkaku story and is only the length of a novella (like many honkaku novels), and it’s also rather dark, which I enjoy since I like horror as much as mystery.

This 90s manga series is one of the first proper murder mystery manga. While it’s aged a bit and not a honkaku that readers can solve, it borrows a bit from some famous Japanese honkaku novels and might be a good introduction to Japanese murder mystery fiction. Despite the homages, this is distinctively its own story.

As is commonly done in Japanese mysteries, most involve a seemingly impossible murder in a remote location with a long list of shady suspects. While teenage detective Kindaichi Hajime tries to solve the case, more murders happen. The stories are creative, and the solutions are, too—this series often has more macabre moments but is often sympathetic to the killers.

The Case Closed manga series, which is called Detective Conan in Japan, is possibly the longest-running murder mystery series in the world. It has over 1,000 chapters, all short murder mysteries lasting 2-5 chapters. While they’re not honkaku mysteries with fair play that the reader can solve, they are interesting and creative. 

The art style can appear quite “kiddie,” but don’t be fooled—murder mystery fans can find plenty to enjoy here, as it’s clear that the creator is very widely read in detective fiction. It also involves a teenage sleuth shrunk to the size of a small child by a mysterious drug, so while the characters remain static, it has some background intrigue, too.

Most books on Buddhism emphasise the monastic tradition, meditation and a life of strict morality, removed from the everyday world of ordinary people. Much of Japanese Buddhism, however, is conducted by married priests living modern lives in direct interaction with secular society. This book provides an important antidote to contemporary stereotypes.

This collection of Katsumata’s manga for legendary gekiga magazine Garo and others is a powerful graphic bridge between the politics and reality of this world, and the creatures and legends of the other. Katsumata takes us from the transitory and dangerous lives of nuclear workers at Fukushima Daiichi (decades before the 2011 disaster) to the tough and haunted lands of Tohoku (North East Japan) in the early twentieth century. Lonely kappa monsters, tanuki, and fox spirits feature as sympathetic lead characters, shapeshifting and conjuring a version of Fukushima and Tohoku that dazzled and inspired me.

A Japanese light novel, manga, and anime, Kyo Kara Maoh! is perhaps the foundation upon which my obsession with trope-defying fantasy humor was built. I will admit to watching the anime first (as an impressionable young teenager) and being hooked. It wasn’t like any show I had seen before. It was funny because it made fun of itself and the genres and tropes that normally constrained such a series. And as soon as I found that such a thing existed I wanted it. Tropes are great, but I love them so much more when they’re turned upside down or inside out or stretched out of shape completely, because then you get to see what they’re really made of.

Most of us probably grew up with the idea that above all Buddhism rejects the body to attain spiritualty. It is actually the reverse. This study looks at the idea of the materiality of Buddhist texts (sutras) and the narratives and sermons that accompany them (setsuwa). Both body and book are corruptible , and hence great efforts are made to protect these ancient texts. Eubanks argues that there is an intimate connection between book and body as matter. The human body (especially the brain) is thus a container of Buddhist teaching. Scroll and stupa are critical for protecting this precious wisdom of the Buddha. Body and book are the witnesses to our suffering and impermanence. The stupa may contain the relics of past buddhas (and ash) just as the scroll contains the wisdom of buddha teaching.

Though potentially incomplete (some scholars argue we're missing one or two chapters, or that the story was never meant to end), The Tale of Genji manages to paint a vivid picture of the life of a lost age, with its own array of traditions, values, and fashions; a world where one's skill with poetry was just as valuable as political acumen and their outlook is so different from a modern perspective. At the same time, it presents the timeless complexity of relationships between men and women, and the social expectations and norms that impact those connections.

A graphic designer by training, Kenya Hara is one of Japan’s most theoretical design thinkers. He steps back and ponders possibility. Especially where the future of Japan is concerned.

Seated in his elegant office in downtown Tokyo, Hara explained to me years ago that Japan once churned out exports but now, as other countries assume that role, Japan must offer something else. In this book he indicates that something else not a physical object. It is the experience of the country’s rich culture, aesthetics, and underlying values.

Living in Tokyo for many years enabled many chances to savor the smell of fresh tatami mats and the toothsomeness of new harvest rice.

Hara’s thoughts resonate with me, but I hope Japan never stops making elegant, user-friendly housewares.