To the anglophone audience, Japanese fiction must seem like a monolith thanks entirely to the hegemonic influence of a select few powerhouse writers who dominate the scene. For the first few chapters of Keiichiro Hirano’s A Man, I too found myself unwittingly making comparisons to existing works by better-known names, but the more I read, the faster those comparisons dissipated. By the end of the book, I had to chalk any similarities up to the nature of the text’s native language; A Man, beautifully translated by Eli K.P. William, can stand proudly on its own two feet as an excellent, meditative work.

Other reviews have mentioned the similarities to Raymond Chandler, though this book reminded me far more of a silver-screen noir adaptation from Hollywood’s golden age than Chandler’s actual written works; it’s every inch a modern noir mystery. The main protagonist is Akira Kido, a lawyer hired by a former client to find out the true identity of her dead husband who she learns had been living with her under an assumed identity. Kido is a contemporary evolution of the hard-bitten, hard-drinking P.I. Just as with Chandler’s Phillip Marlowe, alcohol plays an explicit role throughout the story, including one pivotal scene involving vodka gimlets, a nod to Marlowe’s preferred cocktail made with Kido’s preferred spirit.

Kido isn’t so much a tortured character as he is a modern one. While unravelling the mystery of Mr. X, he is simultaneously dealing with the myriad emotions of first time fatherhood, a rocky marriage, the recent trauma of the 2011 earthquake, and the constant feeling of discrimination as a Zainichi, an ethnic Korean. His contemplative inner monologue makes up much of the book, and it’s through him, as well as Rié, wife of dead Mr. X, that the author works out questions of identity, truth, and fate.

The narrative is sparse, like most translated Japanese fiction I’ve read, but this is by no means a negative. The dialogue and narrations are delicate and thoughtful; environments, from an ancient, cherry tree-studded cemetery, to the dark, snowy alleyways of Tokyo, are atmospheric and beautifully rendered. There is a lack of superfluous description or dialogue—the best way I can describe the feeling of reading this book is that it evokes a sense of quiet, encouraging the reader to slow down, to digest everything.

This calm is important, because the sheer scope of the philosophical problems Hirano tackles could very easily have felt overwhelming. There are no easy answers or tidy bows here. Instead, Hirano embraces the reality that life is complicated, and that we don’t get to chose the hand we are dealt. History, racism, memory, love, lust, trauma, untimely death . . . These are all things that we face everyday, and Hirano confronts them head on, thinking his way through them, creating a refreshingly complex and highly realistic world.

By and large, William’s translation is excellent, with sophisticated prose that beautifully enhances the minimalist lyrical qualities of the text. So it’s particularly jarring when a stray bit of jargon (eg. “riding shotgun,” “normcore,” “schmaltzy” etc.) interrupts the sentence. But aside from the oddly placed slang word, the translation does an excellent job of creating a world that allows the reader to quietly immerse themselves in the contemplations of the characters.

As the title suggests, A Man is ultimately a query into what makes up a person. It wrestles with the old nature vs. nurture question and ends up, like the other philosophical questions in the story, with a complex answer. The investigation into the identity of Rié’s dead husband is really an investigation of identity itself, exploring whether it’s even possible to really know another person. While we can know a great deal about a person through their life story, circumstances, and actions, these perceptions are really only skin deep.
“After all, there was no way to know the ‘true past’ of another. Unless they were right in front of you, there wasn’t even any way to know what someone was doing or where they were in the present. In fact, it might very well be hubris to believe that you could understand a person’s true thoughts and feelings even when looking straight at them.”

In this world, characters are able to switch into another’s life with a quick bit of identity fraud, sometimes even doing so multiple times. As the story unravels, Kido and Rié find themselves wondering how it is possible for some people to live another’s life more successfully than its original occupant, while others are dragged down by their assumed identity’s previous baggage. These questions of what is innate to us, what is circumstantial, and how the two affect who we are over the course of a lifetime, run the length of the book.

In the end, there isn’t a clear answer to these questions and, to be honest, I prefer it that way. This doesn’t feel at all like a cop-out; Hirano does due diligence on the long journey of investigation we take with Kido and Rié. But it is Rié, the book’s most tragic character, who reveals A Man’s one, poetic certainty—death.
“A life is something that you can exchange with someone else—Rié would never have dreamed such a thing if her husband hadn’t demonstrated it was true. He had actually led the life of another. But what about death? Death, she felt certain, was the only thing you could never exchange with anyone.”

Hirano isn’t shying away from complicated problems; on the contrary, complexity is his answer. He spends the entire novel confronting identity in the real world, before laying out the results of his findings and concluding that there just isn’t a clean answer. Life is messy, people are messy; he doesn’t try to simplify that fact, and his story is all the better for it.

Winner of the Yomiuri Prize for Literature 2019
Hirano won the Akutagawa Prize with his debut 日蝕 Nisshoku when he was still a law student, "A Man" is his first work to be translated into English and German (Das Leben eines Anderen, tr. by Nora Bierich). In it, he investigates how the future can change how we see the past, or as he explained in an interview: "The past is not as stable as we like to believe. (...) The past is vulnerable and fragile. (...) Future events are changing the past." The story revolves around Kido, a lawyer who becomes obsessed with investigating a case of identity theft: After a mother of two loses her husband in a logging accident, she finds out that her husband was not who he claimed to be, that he had claimed to be someone else.

So the whole story ponders how new developments, events and insights change the characters' interpretation and evaluation of the past. As Hirano states, the question if played out in an aesthetic manner reminiscent of a fugue, with slight changes of the theme as the story/movement evolves. We meet the family of the man in question, but also people from his past and the family and colleagues of Kido, who, in this tale of psychological noir, becomes somewhat of a detective in crisis, struggling with his own identity and marraige while trying to solve the mystery.

The novel also discusses the discrimination of Koreans / people of Korean descent in Japan, as Kido is a Zainichi, and how the resentment has grown with the rise of nationalism after the Great East Japan Earthquake. Other political and social issues feature as well, particularly relating to the legal system (remember: the author is a lawyer, and this book has some Ferdinand von Schirach-like aspects): Divorce and family law, public registers, the death penalty. Hirano also criticizes the stigma around domestic violence and the fragility of poor and psychologically impaired people.

And this is also a book about writing: The widow owns a stationery shop, her son seeks refuge in literature and writing. "A Man" itself is surprisingly lyrical for a crime thriller, full of strong images and well-rendered interior monologue.

I'm not a crime reader at all, but I would certainly become one if more thrillers were as socially relevant and psychologically convincing as this one.

Bought this privately and read it, enjoyed it a lot. Since there is no German publication planned, yet, I'm not going to write an official review.
I was impressed by the emphasis on plot and its strength. It was an approachable read with an individual style that at the same time never felt superficial.

Published in Japan in 2018; published in translation by Amazon Crossing on June 1, 2020

A Man is a story of people who have changed their identities. The prologue tells us that the author is recounting a story told in a bar by a man who identified himself as Akira Kido before confessing that the name belongs to someone else. Kido told the author that he keeps himself together “by living other people’s pain.” Kido claims to achieve honesty through lies, something that all writers of fiction should strive to accomplish.

The author tells us that Kido told a story of becoming obsessed with the life of a man, but it is Kido, “when viewed from behind as he chases this man,” who the story is about. The author sensed something in Kido that “needed to be seen.” What that might have been is left for the reader to decide.

The man with whom Kido becomes obsessed was known for part of his life as Daisuké Taniguchi. Until his accidental death, he was married to a woman named Rié. Rié had two sons with her first husband. After the younger son died, Rié’s husband divorced her. After Rié’s father died, Rié returned to her hometown with her son Yuto. She met Daisuké, who explained that his father had also died, but not until family friction was caused by Daisuké’s reluctance to be a liver transplant donor for his father. Rié and Daisuké had a girl named Hana, but Daisuké died after less than four years of marriage.

The story begins after Daisuké’s death, when Rié makes contact with Daisuké’s family for the first time. When she notifies his brother Kyoichi of Daisuké’s death, Kyoichi visits Rié and delivers the startling news that Rié’s husband was not his brother. While Kyoichi indeed had a brother named Daisuké, the man who was married to Rié is not Daisuké. Kyoichi’s brother found it better to run away from home than to live with the impossible expectations of an overbearing father. The life story Rié’s husband told her is Daisuké’s story, not his own.

Rié takes this news to her divorce attorney, who happens to be Kido. The story then follows Kido as he attempts to discover Daisuké’s true identity and the reason he concealed it from Rié. The answers he finds give closure to Rié and Yuko, as well as the opportunity to repair the difficult relationship between a mother and teenage son. In a way, ending his obsessive quest also brings Kido a sense of closure.

This is a novel about the lives of people who want to begin anew. Adopting a new identity, or trading identities, seems to be the preferred mechanism in Japan of abandoning an old life and making a new one. Kido, at least, finds multiple examples of the practice that complicate his investigation. Kido’s exploration of troubled lives brings him into contact with stories of violence and despair, but also prompts a potential reunification of a lost soul and the woman he has never forgotten.

Kido tells us of his own life and his interest in heritage, stemming from his Korean ancestry. He is a third generation Zainichi, although he only recently started to understand the discrimination that Zainichi have faced in Japanese culture. An increase in Japanese nationalism and xenophobia has unsettled Kido. Exploring other families makes Kido wonder about his own roots in Korea. It also amplifies his feeling of being isolated in the world.

The theme of loneliness pervades the novel. It is central to Kido’s life, “a bottomless, middle-aged kind of loneliness that he never could have conceived when he was younger, a loneliness that saturated him with bone-chilling sentimentality the moment he let down his guard.” Rié senses Kido’s loneliness but wonders if she is only seeing a reflection of her own “intense loneliness of middle age.” She always thought her second husband was the best man she had ever known and cannot understand why he deceived her about his very identity, leaving her with memories of a life together that no longer feel authentic.

A Man is more than a mystery novel. In addition to nationalism, the novel considers the role of the death penalty in Japanese society. One of the lives Kido explores belongs to a man who was raised by a violent father and in turn became a violent husband and parent. That man eventually murdered his employer’s family. When he was executed, the judicial system made no effort to examine the childhood that shaped him. Kido views the judiciary as covering up the mistakes of other branches of government that failed Japan and its citizens by allowing the killer to be raised in an atmosphere of violence. Kido believes that wiping out the evidence of society’s failure is destined to create an ever-growing number of citizens who will need to be executed.

Apart from its social relevance, the plot investigates questions of identity. Perhaps pretending to be someone new can transform the pretender into someone who is truly new. Adopting a different identity is an extreme way to change a life, but Keiichiro Hirano seems to suggest that unsatisfactory lives can, at least, be changed. Perhaps the person who tells the story to the author, the person who claims to be using the name Kiro, has internalized that lesson. In any event, Hirano gives the reader much to ponder while working through this intriguing mystery.

RECOMMENDED

This Japanese novel written by Keiichiro Hirano and translated by Eli K P William is a mystery about identity theft. It has a complex and intriguing plot which held my attention until the end. At times the identity changes are so complicated, I became rather confused and baffled. But ultimately, with all the swapping of identities all we can really say is that someone is "a man".

This was an excellent read. I really enjoyed it. Beautifully written with a intriguing plot. I certainly recommend it.

Thank you to Netgalley, the publisher and the author for sending me this ARC.

I have posted a review on Goodreads using my online name - Cordelia.

This is a complex and multi-layered Japanese novel and my response to it was equally complex and multi-layered. On one level it’s a straightforward mystery, a detective story, a psychological thriller that begins with the death of Daisuke Taniguchi, a forester crushed by a tree. His wife, Rie, informs his estranged brother of the terrible news, but it soon becomes clear that the man she was married to was not in fact the real Daisuke Taniguchi, but someone using his identity. Rie consults a lawyer, Akira Kido, to help her unravel the mystery, and the story from then on focuses on this lawyer’s quest to uncover the truth, a quest with which he becomes obsessed. A double identity, a double life – and this is where the novel becomes much more thoughtful and philosophical, delving into issues of identity from a legal, emotional and political point of view, exploring how much we construct our own identities and whether it is possible to choose an alternative life. Kido starts to question his own identity as a naturalized Japanese of Korean descent, and his own ambivalence towards his background. Japanese prejudice against those with Korean roots is still prevalent in the country, and I found this an especially interesting strand of the narrative. Equally fascinating is that it is apparently not that uncommon for people to “trade” identities, usually for a fee, and pass themselves off as somebody completely different. It appears that the man pretending to be Daisuke Taniguchi may have done this and possibly more than once. This makes the trail even more difficult to follow and I must admit to becoming lost on occasion and finding it all difficult to follow. This is definitely a book that rewards a second reading, and although I didn’t always enjoy the mystery aspect of it, I certainly enjoyed this glimpse into aspects of Japanese culture with which I am unfamiliar.

Interesting mystery with well thought out pacing. The blending of myths and in depth characters fascinated me.

A Man is Keiichiro Hirano's first novel to be translated into English. Before I talk about the novel I must mention the translation which is excellent, which is so important when reading translated fiction. And so to the novel, this is a gem of a novel.. The central character is a lawyer called Akira Kido, he is asked to by a widow to investigate her dead husband, who was living a lie. After he died she discovered he wasn't the man he claimed to be. Kido finds himself drawn to the dead man, his story and his life, it makes him question his own life and identity. And identity, culture and history are at the heart of this novel.. Although this novel has a man acting as an amateur detective, this novel is so much more. It's a man considering life, how important identity is, the chance of choosing an alternative life and Japan's problems with racism, the impact and after effects of the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake. This is a novel that demands time to be read and time to consider all of the issues raised.

Thank you to Amazon Crossing and NetGalley for the Reader's Copy!

Restrained yet emotional, Keiichiro Hirano's elegant "A Man" unfolds like an intricate origami. Peeling back layers and layers of small dialogue, detailed backgrounds and subtle actions, it tells the story of fidelity and infidelity among Japan's middle class. As a struggling businesswoman meets a handsome stranger, their worlds are more colluded than originally thought. A perfect accompaniment to an afternoon at home.

A Man is a book that blends a mystery story with an interesting psychological character study. Through Kido, we come to understand why someone would seek to assume a different identity, and the positives and negatives that come with that. The plot was nicely paced and the translation vibrant and flowing. There is a certain amount of emotional distance in the style of the prose; however, I think that is intentional, as it makes us view events and explanations more objectively. Overall, this was a captivating and engaging read and I would certainly be keen to try more of Keiichirou Hirano's books in the future, should more of them be translated into English (or should my Japanese improve enough to be able to read the original). Recommended to readers seeking a contemporary mystery with a psychological bent.

A number of Japanese and Chinese authors seem to be having a moment. This book fuels that momentum. With many helpful reviews already out there, I'll just recommend it to literary fans. A solid read.

I really appreciate the review copy!!

I love reading Japanese fiction and I am big Murakami fan, so I had to request " A Man" when I discovered it on Steve Donoghue's booktube channel.

We follow a lawyer solve a mystery surrounding a swapped identity and while we tag along we're getting to know him and his own thoughts about his identity, relationship and family life.

I could hardly put it down. The atmosphere is great and the characters are each interesting in their own way. The only reason why I couldn't give this 5 cups of coffee was the ending.

* BIG SPOILER WARNING*

I was actually hoping that he would contact Omiura to sort out his own new identity after the revelation in the restaurant about the text message his wife received from her boss. I felt let down as he wasn't mentioned anymore after we read about Yuto and Rie accepting Kido's story about Daisuke/Makoto.

I will keep an eye out as I'd love to read the author's future work.

Thank you Netgalley and Amazon Crossing for providing me with an eARC in exchange for an honest review. This was right down my alley.

Thank you to the publisher for a copy of this book via netgalley!

This book has a very interesting storyline! What might seem like a simple story of a lawyer looking for the true identity of a widow’s husband is actually a profound story of compassion, illusion and love. This book is wonderfully written making you feel like you know each character in-depth. The description of the various places in Japan within this book beautifully adds to the reader’s imagination of where this storyline takes place.

Keiichirō Hirano has spun an intriguing psychological tale. A Man presents its readers with an in-depth and carefully paced mystery revolving around identity theft.
Hirano novel's opening is rather metafictional as it is narrated by an unmanned novelist who after bumping into a man called Akira Kido becomes fascinated by Kido's own obsession with another man (the narrator goes on to compare the story he's about to tell to a painting by René Magritte entitled 'Not to Be Reproduced'):

“With all the unique characters that make an appearance, some of you might wonder why on earth I didn't pick one of the bit players to be the protagonist. While Kido-san will in fact obsessed with the life of a man, it is in Kido-san, viewed from behind as he chases this man, that I sensed something to be seen.”


Kido is a divorce attorney who has become detached from his wife. She, in turn, shows little interest in him or his job and is rather unsympathetic when it comes to his Zainichi background (that is ethnically Korean residents of Japan). Kido's practical and reserved nature frustrate his wife (who often mistakes impassiveness for callousness) While Kido disapproves of his wife's strict parenting style, she mistakes his reserved disposition as a sign of callousness. When a growingly disillusioned Kido is contacted by Rié Takemoto, a former client of his, he finds himself drawn into the life of another man. After Rié's second husband dies in a work-related accident, she discovers that his name and past are that of another man. Throughout the course of his investigation Kido questions X's motives. What could make someone want to conceal their true name or background? And what constitutes an identity?
As Kido comes in contact with the various individuals and families connected to X, and as his relationship with his own wife becomes further strained, he grows fond of this unknown X and starts to see the appeal of 'starting' over.
Although Kido's investigation is the running thread that connects together these seemingly disparate characters and events, it sometimes seems more of a background. The narrative provides a panoramic view of the characters Kido comes into contact during the course of his investigation. While many of Kido's thoughts are dedicated to X and issues of identity, he's an erudite and his mind will often wonder down philosophical paths. He makes many literary allusions (he compares his stance towards other Zainichi as being similar to the way in which Levin—from Anna Karenina—views 'peasants'). Kido's precarious relationship to his ethnicity is one of the novel's main motifs:

“Since he had grown up almost entirely as a "Japanese person" even before he naturalized, he was profoundly uneasy with the idea that he was either a direct victim or perpetuator of the troubles the best Korean enclaves.”


Kido passes most of his time in contemplation. He muses on the myth of Narcissus, the nature vs. nurture debate, questions his marriage, and those of other people, considers the notion of an identity and broods over his own loneliness:

“Yes, loneliness. He did not shy from this word to express the dark emotion that had been seething in his chest of late. It was a bottomless, middle-aged kind of loneliness that he never could have even conceived when he was younger, a loneliness that saturated him with bone-chilling sentimentality the moment he let down his guard.”


Hirano's Japan is vividly rendered. From its recent history to its social norms, Hirano's novel provides plenty of insights into contemporary Japan. There are extensive discussions on Japan's penal and legal system (given Kido's line of work there is a lot on divorce and custody laws).
As much as I liked novel (identity concealment makes for a fascinating subject) I was deeply disappointed by the abrupt way it ended. After spending so much time with Kido, I felt cheated by those final chapters. Kido is seemingly discarded, and readers are left wondering what exactly he will do after he makes an important discovery.
Still, I would probably recommend this one, especially to those who are interested in learning about contemporary Japan or for those who prefer more thought-provoking and philosophical mysteries

“The dead cannot call out to us. All they can do is wait for us to call to them. Except for the dead whose names are unknown. Uncalled by anyone, they sink ever deeper into solitude.”

I loved Keiichiro Hirano's novel A Man, I was engrossed in its story of identity and transformation, past and present from the start. The additional insight into the life of Zainichi was of great interest to me. I will definitely add Keiichiro Hirano to my list of Japanese authors I want to read more translated works from.

A woman discovers that her recently deceased husband isn’t who she thought he was—he had stolen the identity of another man. She engages a lawyer to investigate. I was intrigued by the premise of the book, but in fact, it seemed to be more of a stream of consciousness by the lawyer. The story rambled and each time a new character was introduced there was a long discourse on the back history of that person. I had trouble following the story. The book was also overwritten, although this could be a matter of translation.

Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for providing the ebook in exchange for an honest review.

A Man was an intriguing story about identity. The main plot revolves around a lawyer’s investigation into traded identities. There was also an underlying narrative about racism in Japan against the Zainichi (Korean born Japanese citizens). I appreciated the book, but didn’t connect with it emotionally; I’m unsure if it is because it is a translation or if I prefer more emotional openness in texts. 3 1/2 stars. Copy provided by the publisher via @netgalley in exchange for an honest review. #AMan #netgalley

In September of 2011 rie of a local shop dies. This is more memorable to some than the earthquake. Rie loved a cherry tree in the park . Ries husband worked for a lumber company until he died at thirty nine. Rie has two sons by another man yuto and ryo. I thought the pace was okay. Ryo died of brain tumor when he was two years old. I couldn't stay interested