Rising Sun" is a classic paranoid thriller: “they” control everything. In other books, “they” might be the Illuminati or the Trilateralists or the Jews. Here, they are the Japanese. There’s a crime: the murder of a tasty American babe during a party for a major Japanese corporation. There’s a hero: American detective Peter J. Smith. Solving the case pits Smith against Japanese overlords who wield all of their influence in government, business, academe and journalism to corrupt the investigation. The clues are written in big print for the mystery-impaired, and that part of the story moves very quickly. But then there’s that other part: the lesson. “If you sell the country to Japan, then they will own it … and people who own things do what they want with them.”
Not since James Michener’s “Texas” has a Big Book dared to be so pedantic. Crichton has done his homework, and he wants to be damned sure you know it. He even tacks on a bibliography of trade hawks. Which is not to say that he works hard at proving his case. When he wants to bash, he just has a character express an opinion, however raw or unfounded. What’s more, he gets to spice up his thesis with sadomasochism and missing panties. His seething tirades against Japan will certainly play to the gallery; Crichton has the good fortune to release his book in the middle of another spasm of Japan-bashing. But in dishing up randy propaganda instead of a more balanced view, he has done a disservice to his argument-and to his readers.
