Flanagan’s nuancing of the narrative, tracing them in amiable old age in Japan, including the officer in charge, Nakamura, whose machinations save him from a war crimes trial but who dies of cancer eventually, depicts the guards too as victims, tied to their Australian PoWs by the causal logic (or lack thereof) of fate. This tribute to Japan’s civilisational and cultural history is an acknowledgement of the humanity of the Japanese guards. Flanagan’s title refers to a haibun by 17th century Japanese poet Matsuo Basho. Yet, Flanagan has not only made a fresh effort to explore the subject in fiction but has also been in the best, albeit sorriest, place to write it - his father’s experiences on the Thailand-Myanmar rail link as a Japanese PoW, an abomination even by the standards of WWII.Ī great war novel lifts itself above the uniforms on the ground. The war in Burma and the engineering from hell that was the “Death Railway” had all been accounted for. If Flanagan’s father had not passed away on the night the final draft was ready, the 12 years and five versions it took him to get to the Booker may still have built a little legend of his tribulations.
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