Boris Akunin has repeatedly experimented with the form of his prose, incorporating interactivity in one way or another. Sometimes it was limited to links to video clips that could be opened online by scanning a code from the book; other times it took the shape of full-fledged “quest books,” where the narrative depends on the reader’s choices.
I myself am quite conservative when it comes to reading, so I prefer a straightforward novel, without all these branching paths and detours. External links didn’t appeal to me either when I encountered them before. Still, I decided to give this kind of genre another chance and read Bashō’s Frog, knowing in advance that it is built precisely around choice.
There were several reasons for that:
- I like Akunin’s work, but I have by no means read everything he has written.
- This book is about Erast Fandorin, my favorite character created by the author.
- The narrators are either the Georgian Lazo Chkhartishvili or the Jewish Aron Brazinsky. Both of these colorful peoples appeal to me greatly (especially the latter, since on my mother’s side I am Jewish myself).
The choice of narrators is far from accidental. They are the great-grandfathers of Boris Akunin himself (known in everyday life as Grigory Shalvovich Chkhartishvili). He chose to construct the narrative from their perspectives, imagining how representatives of these nations might tell a story, complete with both real and invented stereotypes.
From a purely detective standpoint, the case itself is quite small; under different circumstances it could easily have fit into a short story. But since the reader makes choices along the way, the book formally contains eight stories — corresponding to the eight possible endings your decisions can lead to.
I was curious to compare all the variants, so rather than truly “choosing,” I simply went page by page, as if enumerating all possible options and returning to the branching points whenever I reached yet another ending.
The investigation itself is engaging, and the different endings with their differing motivations work well. Still, as I mentioned earlier, I’m generally not a fan of this kind of literary game-quest format.
The most important — and very first — choice is selecting the narrator. Choosing between the Jewish or the Georgian narrator immediately determines the location where events will unfold. I expected each narrator to tell a genuinely distinct story. Instead, roughly half the book turns out to be exactly the same plot, merely with the scenery repainted. The story is essentially identical, with the same villains and the same motivations, just told in slightly different words.
And once you’ve “completed” the story with the Georgian narrator, reading it again with the Jewish one becomes frankly boring, because a slightly different voice alone isn’t enough to make the second “playthrough” engaging.
Moreover, despite being Jewish on the “right” side myself, I ended up openly disliking the Jewish narrator. He comes across as overly self-important and pompous; I had no desire to follow him, as he mostly provoked irritation. By contrast, the Georgian narrator (who, judging by his surname ending, could quite plausibly also be Jewish — the “-shvili” ending is very common among Georgian Jews, though not exclusive to them) was a delight and immediately won me over.
Later choices really do affect the endings, since the culprit and their motivation change. What’s rather amusing is how, with the same set of “clues,” the detective story — and what seem like inevitable conclusions — can be so easily steered onto the desired track right at the very end of the book.
And since the story itself (if you follow just one chosen path) is quite short, there aren’t many twists or much intrigue to speak of. As such a small piece, I wouldn’t have rated it higher than a four anyway. But turned into a “one for the price of two” where there aren’t actually two distinct stories, the book can’t get more than a three from me.
An interesting experiment, but I’d much rather see new solid detective novels from the author than this kind of literary “game.”
My rating: 3/5
