dead bodies are piling up

and the culprit keeps getting away

Fiction, 1988

The heatwave in India has burnt my roses to a crispy brown-grey, dried up water bodies, and killed at least 87 people. It's hard to explain the heat unless you're in Delhi right now (where temperatures are shockingly highest), but try to imagine the blast of the oven when you try to check the doneness of a cake. And then picture that sensation constantly, not as a wave, but as a suffocating interior. The news is terrible, the government isn't doing anything about it, and the feeling of being powerless abounds. 

So this week, between reading the news on my phone—which reached warning temperatures so many times that it's functioning weirdly even now—I needed an escape, which luckily came in the form of a Japanese murder mystery. Over at the Mill House, canals are flowing dangerously high, storm clouds cover the region, and lightning bolts illuminate corpses. The house's owner is the mysterious Fujinuma Kiichi, the son of a famous painter, Issei, whose works now lie in his son's care. After a tragic car accident where Kiichi suffered severe burns and his best friend's fiancee died, he now is a recluse at the Mill House, where he constantly dons a white rubber mask and gloves to conceal the brutal scarring. Every year, Kiichi and his absurdly young wife, Fumie, invite a few Issei enthusiasts to come and view the paintings that line the house's halls. The novel is split into a dual timeline, with the premise above remaining the same. Except each year, people mysteriously die, and murderers get away. 

While the mystery is obviously engaging, the yummiest morsels were the descriptions of the house: gothic and haunting, with three mill wheels constantly churning, creating a ceaseless background buzz that lifts tension to its peak. Over the course of the novel, the noise infects all inhabitants, driving them to transgressions. It was eerie and engaging, and I flew through it in two days—the perfect antidote to bizarre weather. 

Song - Another One Bites The Dust 

Film - See How They Run 

P.S. I know I keep inexplicably deserting the newsletter for weeks, so please feel free to send me hate emails that forces me to get it together!