"Well, the job was all right. It was fine."
"Then what was it?"
He shook his head. "Most people who've lived in Japan come away with fixed feelings. In many ways, the Japanese are wonderful people. They're hardworking, intelligent, and humorous. They have real integrity. They are also the most racist people on the planet. That's why they're always accusing everybody else of racism. They're so prejudiced, they assume everybody else must be, too."
Rising Sun follows a mysterious, wannabe-Japanese, know-it-all, washed-up former detective named John Connor, as he is called out of retirement to help solve the murder of a prostitute named Cheryl Austin that has taken place in the conference room of the Nakamoto Corporation's new building in Los Angeles. Nakamoto is a Japanese company doing business in America, and looking to expand their American footprint, so naturally there is tension and interference between the Americans and Japanese regarding the case. Connor is to act as an expert, and partners up with a flaccid, lifeless active duty Special Services detective in the LAPD, Lieutenant Peter Smith, in the hopes of solving the crime.
I'll be blunt: I hated this book. Every single character in this book is really just a megaphone for Crichton's bizarre anti-Japanese sentiments and theories on how Japan is slowly taking over every aspect of American society: the tech industry, consumer goods, the education system, even the government. Characters go on these long megaphone rants that don't even remotely resemble real human conversation, where they just babble on for literally pages at a time, info dumping endlessly about Japan and how it's taking over American corporations with its aggressive and illegal business practices. These strange fears about Japan taking over America obviously never became a reality, making the book look even worse in hindsight.
Crichton repeatedly moves the story along by interrupting these long, boring character monologues with various phones ringing, either a car phone or a landline. This must have happened at least twenty times in this book. It's pretty sad when a book is so boring that the only thing you can do to progress the story is to make the phone ring and briefly intrigue the reader with the mysterious identity of the caller, and what they're calling about.
In one sequence, Smith and Connor are driving along in a car, and Connor gets a call on the car phone. The conversation plays out, and he hangs up. Then, Smith gets a call right after! And neither call was even remotely interesting. Connor's was a call from a country club about a membership, and Smith's was his realtor calling to see if he wanted to go look at a house on Saturday. The constant phone calls is a poor plot device that is used way too many times throughout this book as a mechanism to keep the story moving, which it didn't even do very well, the calls being as boring as they were.
There are times when Crichton actually does something exciting in this otherwise incredibly boring book, but these moments are always agonizingly short. Like a car chase scene that I think lasted one or two pages, and then it was over like it never even happened. And near the very end of the book, a shootout that lasted, I kid you not, a single paragraph on page 360. Ugh...why?!?! For the love of God, Crichton, why? It was beyond frustrating. Like watching a movie on TV and the only good thing about it being the 30-second commercials you're forced to watch while you wait for the mediocre movie to come back on. Oy vey.
And the reason given at the end of the book for why the murderer killed the girl is so incredibly stupid and unbelievable that it would be laughable if it wasn't so sad. I mean, you read a 400-page book and that's the reasoning you get? The fate of the murderer at the end is equally disappointing, and kind of infuriating. I felt like I'd been cheated, my time deliberately wasted. The entire ending of this book was so incredibly unfulfilling, and powerfully lame.
And I can't conclude my review without addressing the controversial nature of this book, mainly that critics have accused it of being racist against Japanese people. Crichton tried to defend the book, saying he's harder on America in the book than he is on the Japanese. While he certainly insults America a lot in this book, and points out how Japan is superior in every conceivable way, mostly through the rantings of megaphone character John Connor, he does insult Japan greatly in this book, and the things he accuses Japan of are far more serious than the innocuous insults he throws at America, like that its police are inept and that it isn't as successful economically.
Accusing a country, as Crichton does of Japan, of aggressively and illegally trying to take over basically your entire country, and calling them "the most racist people on the planet" (a phrase Connor actually says multiple times throughout the book), is quite a bit more serious. So in my opinion, having actually read this book, it is definitely racist against the Japanese people.
Insulting to both Americans and Japanese alike, Rising Sun is a grave misfire from a great author, and never should have been published. It's a 400-page medium for Michael Crichton to go on a xenophobic rant about his bizarre fears that Japan would take over America, thinly wrapped in the most dull, uninteresting, uninvolving, by the numbers murder mystery you are ever likely to read, and with an ending so bad it still somehow manages to ruin the rest of the book, which wasn't great to begin with.
Only recommended for the most die-hard Michael Crichton fans. I wish I could have been more positive in this review, because I love Michael Crichton, and consider him one of the greatest authors I've come across to date, but this is easily the worst book of his that I've read, and there just isn't much to like here. This was a slog in the worst possible way and is a complete failure, both as a murder-mystery story and as an attempt to convey a broader message. A very disappointing read.
1.5 stars