
Translated by Jim Rion — Strange Pictures is Uketsu’s second novel but the first to be translated into English. It’s a sinister and original book that straddles the line between crime and horror, drawing readers into a dark, unsettling and deeply immersive world of interconnected stories. With its haunting premise and intricate structure, Strange Pictures melds visual and textual storytelling to offer an experience that is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally affecting.
It all begins with a chilling premise: a drawing by an 11-year-old girl who has been arrested for matricide. A developmental psychologist analyses the drawing – considering the representations of the girl herself, a house and a bird sheltering in a thorny tree – to assess the child’s mental state, setting the stage for a story where the interpretation of images becomes central to unravelling mysteries.
Each chapter features at least one unsettling illustration – an elderly woman at prayer, a young woman in an unnatural pose, a mother and child outside a squat apartment building, a stark Japanese landscape – that anchors the plot of that particular segment of the overall story. These pictures, along with other visual elements, including blogposts and floorplans, invite direct engagement with the practicalities of the story, piecing together the connections between the disparate characters and events.
For instance, a student becomes obsessed with a defunct blog, convinced that its pseudonymous author was hinting at something terrible concerning his young wife. But what, if anything, could have happened to her? And how could the mystery of the blog possibly be linked to a young boy mourning the loss of his father or a cantankerous art teacher who was murdered during a camping trip? What could all these disquieting events be pointing towards?
At its core, Strange Pictures is a series of linked mystery stories set in Japan and spanning over two decades, from 1992 to 2014. Each chapter introduces a new cast of characters and a self-contained puzzle mystery. But as the novel progresses, it becomes clear that these seemingly isolated stories are threads of a larger tapestry of intrigue. The brilliance of Uketsu’s storytelling lies in how these threads gradually come together, leading to a satisfying conclusion.
Another thing that sets Strange Pictures apart from traditional mysteries is the pervasive sense of dread. Uketsu’s writing is highly atmospheric, creating an immersive world where danger and unease lurk just beneath the mundane surface. The childlike yet ominous drawings that anchor each chapter enhance this eerie tone, making the novel as much a work of psychological horror as it is a thriller. Each revelation feels like a step deeper into the darkness, while the cumulative effect is a lingering sense of unease.
Aside from its genre elements, Strange Pictures also offers incisive social commentary. Uketsu’s characters grapple with issues such as the challenges faced by working mothers, the spillover effects of the collapse of Japan’s economic bubble and the stigma surrounding mental health issues. They also face violence, coercive control and sexual abuse. These themes are seamlessly incorporated into the narrative, enriching the novel without overshadowing its central mysteries.
Perhaps most striking in terms of the underside of the everyday is Uketsu’s exploration of motherhood, with the interlocking stories all examining, to some extent at least, the lengths to which women will go to protect their children and the societal pressures that shape their experiences in the role. Uketsu’s genderless public/YouTube persona – combined with the author’s nuanced treatment of these issues – adds another layer of intrigue and uncertainty to the story in this regard.
In keeping with this role ambiguity, Strange Pictures breaks new ground with its use of drawings and diagrams as not merely a gimmick or enhancement but an integral part of the story. Indeed, these visuals do more than illustrate the plot: they challenge readers to interpret them, mirroring the work of the characters. This interactive element renders the reading experience more akin to solving a real-life mystery.
And while the novel’s structure – a series of abrupt shifts between characters and timelines – might be initially somewhat disorientating, it serves to heighten its impact. The lack of a lead detective or focal protagonist places the reader firmly in the role of investigator, tasked with piecing together the links between the stories. This unconventional format and flow is both a challenge and a reward, demanding active participation while delivering a uniquely immersive experience.
Uketsu’s writing, as rendered into English by Jim Rion, is precise and evocative, capturing both the quiet horror of everyday life and the heightened tension of its darkest moments. The novel’s nostalgia for a somewhat different time – a time when the internet was less ubiquitous – adds another layer to the story, highlighting the dangerous and disorientating pull of the past and the peril of seeking things that might never have been real.
Hence, despite the strong sense of nostalgia, Strange Pictures is not a book for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. Its subject matter – including child abuse, murder, sexual violence and trauma – is often deeply disturbing. Yet these elements are handled with sensitivity, serving the story rather than being included for shock value. In fact, the novel’s horror lies not in gratuitous brutality or gore but in the quiet, creeping uncanniness that permeates it.
Ultimately, Strange Pictures is a triumph of storytelling, blending the mystery, horror and social reality of individual stories into a cohesive and compelling whole. Its innovative structure and interactive elements make for a genre-bending story, while its emotional depth ensures it resonates on a human level. Through its puzzles, atmosphere and cultural insights, Uketsu’s novel offers a reading experience like no other – a dark, unsettling and utterly unforgettable journey into the shadowy corners of the human psyche.
For more Japanese crime fiction, try The Labyrinth House Murders by Yukito Ayatsuji and The Night of Baba Yaga by Akira Otani.
Pushkin Vertigo
Print/Kindle/iBook
£6.99
CFL Rating: 5 Stars