What worked for me:
1. Rowland’s well-rounded characters and authentic relationships.
Sano and his wife, Reiko, are a well-drawn couple. Reiko is modern in her concerns about poverty, women in distress, and desire to use her influence and means to make a positive difference. (In this way, she reminds me a bit of Hero Jarvis from C.S. Harris‘s Sebastian St. Cyr series.)
I also like Sano’s relationship with Hirata and the growing tension between the two. I’m not sure where they have been or where they are going in their loyalties to each other. But this book shows the internal conflict in Hirata between his loyalty to Sano and the samurai code of honor, and his intriguing new relationship with a mysterious group of men and his own curiosity about the mystical martial arts. At some point he will have to choose between them.
The bitter rivalry between Sano and his powerful enemy Yanagisawa is chilling. Though Sano is an honorable man, Yanagisawa is not. While he currently has the ear of the not-too-bright emperor, that can change, depending on the emperor’s mood (or hormones!)
2. Rowland’s description of the historical setting and political intrigues.
Rowland does an excellent job of setting the story in 18th century feudal Japan. I’m not familiar with the feudal system of Japan during this time period. But I understand what was at stake, who the political figures were, etc., because Rowland describes it so well.
And let’s face it, politics is the same everywhere, during every time period: people battling for power. The consequences may be higher in certain eras (such as in a corrupt totalitarian system, where a fall from favor means prison or execution) or lower (such as in a democracy, where falling out of favor means not being re-elected and–I hope, maybe naively?–rarely results in death). But there’s always the corrupt. The back-stabbers. The striving-to-be honorable. The favor-seeking. The powerful-in-name-only and the powers behind them. The political pawns. It doesn’t really matter if it’s 18th century Japan, 20th century Soviet Union, or 21st century America. The reader will recognize the rivalries and political schemes.
What doesn’t work for me:
Rowland’s theological worldview of hopelessness.
I’m unsure how to describe what I mean, but I noticed this in the previous Sano Ichirō book, too.
There’s no possibility of redemption. No grace, no forgiveness. People hold onto grudges and bitterness for their entire lives. I see this particularly in Sano and Yanagisawa’s hatred for each other. There’s no possibility for forgiveness for a betrayal. There’s no possibility that a villain could change and become a more honorable person. There’s no pardon for breaching the samurai code of honor. Things like ritual suicide, duty to avenge another’s death, etc., reflect that society’s ideology.
Despite the tenderness and loyalty in certain relationships, the lack of grace/redemption gives the book a distinctly hopeless feeling to me.
This is more about me as a western reader, deeply immersed in traditional Christian theology, than about Rowland as a writer. It reflects a different worldview than I’m used to. It’s good to be exposed to other cultural worldviews. But this one leaves me rather depressed. While I liked the book, I can’t honestly give it 5 stars.
This book review of The Rōnin’s Mistress appears on Goodreads. Want more of my reviews? Check out my Goodreads profile!
Also, for those of you who like works by Asian and Asian-descent authors, join the Year of the Asian reading challenge. It’s hosted by Shealea (from Shut up, Shealea) and CW @ The Quiet Pond, Lily @ Sprinkles of Dreams, and Vicky @ Vicky Who Reads.