Honolulu Noir (Akashic Noir)
“While those with a preference for straightforward, gritty noir may be thrown off by these otherworldly curveballs, others who enjoy cross-cultural context mixed in with the shadows will find much to appreciate . . .”
The concept of noir might seem antithetical to Hawaii’s aloha spirit, but Honolulu Noir demonstrates that darkness can luxuriate even in sun-kissed climes. Which is not to say that the latest entry in Akashic Books’ ongoing anthology series is illicit business as usual: true, the collection contains expected tales of betrayal and skulduggery, but what’s most striking about Honolulu Noir is its multiethnic, multicultural approach, as locals and foreign interlopers clash, ancient ghosts impinge on the present, and the proceedings sometimes get downright surreal.
Even the more conventional noir stories in the collection are enlivened by the push-pull between native Hawaiians and out-of-towners. Lono Waiwai‘ole’s “Melelani’s Mana” is a sardonic overview of the rough-and-tumble melting pot that is the neighborhood of Kalihi, as Polynesians, “mainlanders” and Japanese criminals take part in a high-stakes poker game—only to be one-upped by a petite island woman, the true gangster among the tough-talking, wanna-be hoods. Editor Chris McKinney’s “Gaijin” piles betrayal on top of betrayal, as a Japanese yakuza plots the assassination of his boss, unaware he’s about to be ensnared in another double-cross courtesy of his local girlfriend.
Entertaining as these stories are, Honolulu Noir starts cooking with loco moco when it twists the fundamentals of noir into original new shapes. Don Wallace’s “Third Night of Carnival” couches deception and forbidden love affairs in a high school milieu, drawing out true pathos as two students from the wrong side of the tracks struggle to fit in at their new hoity-toity private school.
Christy Passion’s “Mercy” chronicles an evening in the life of an ER nurse as a succession of procedural actions, all the brisk efficiency and cold technical terms failing to inure her from the sight of wasted lives. On a more humorous note, Mindy Eun Soo Pennybacker’s “Diamond Dreams” brings a cozy domestic familiarity to its machinations, as a half-Korean woman and her dotty mother contend with a new tenant’s real estate and insurance scams, even as the political specter of native lands being seized hangs over the action.
Not every experiment quite works. Kiana Davenport’s “Hairstyles of the Jihadi” preys on fears of Islamic extremism, as a war vet is panicked by the possibility of his son being converted into a terrorist by a sweet-talking jihadist. While Davenport generates a fair amount of suspense—Who will kill first, the radicalized son or the Iraq veteran looking for payback?—the characterizations and storytelling remain pat. Similarly, Scott Kikkawa’s “Midori” treads familiar ground—hard-boiled cops, backstabbing femme fatales, one-liners like “Life was unfair but it had nothing on death”—and only offers a few token quirks, including a Chinese assassin who dresses up like Gene Autry, to compensate.
A more satisfying cop tale comes in the form of Alan Brennert’s “Apana’s Last Case,” a fictionalized episode from the life of Chang Apana, the real-life inspiration for Earl Derr Biggers’ Charlie Chan. An affectionate look back at early 20th century Hawaii, the story merges the tried and true (a missing woman, a cold case) with a bittersweet lesbian love story that leaves a melancholic aftertaste.
Tom Gammarino’s acrid “It Entered My Mind” provides a different take on the detective thriller, as it sets its action in a future Honolulu where AI dominates society. Though the story’s forensic-cop protagonist may think of himself as a noir hero, replete with a jazz fetish and an estranged ex-wife, it grows apparent as he’s overtaken by paranoia that no one can be a clear-cut hero or villain when AI steers everyone’s thoughts and desires.
But when it comes to far-out imaginings, AI takes a back seat to a trio of tales that round out the collection and focus on “mana,” the supernatural forces and spirits that shape Hawaiian life and folklore. Morgan Miyung McKinney’s “Mother's Mother's Mother” is an elliptical assemblage of elements—a giant flytrap made of paper that becomes real, an elder’s room that’s withering away, a roundelay of grievances between three generations of women—that descends into chaos.
B.A. Kobayashi’s slam-bam “Shadows and Haoles” welds a kidnapping plot with an alternate history of Hawaii in which the islands have been taken over by haole vampires, with a protective brother cast in the unlikely role of vampire killer when his body is possessed by warlike local spirits. “The Unknown” by Michelle Cruz Skinner concludes the anthology on a wistful note, as time is marked by an ancient spirit who observes and interacts with locals, and historical memory fades as Honolulu transitions from native villages to gleaming tourist hotels.
While those with a preference for straightforward, gritty noir may be thrown off by these otherworldly curveballs, others who enjoy cross-cultural context mixed in with the shadows will find much to appreciate in Honolulu Noir. As a whole the collection may be more breezy than gripping, but in its wide range of moods, historical periods and settings, it’s certainly one of the most diverse anthologies in Akashic’s city noir canon, and one of the most unique.