‘Escalator’ sometimes reads like a pocket guide to Japanese mores. An introduction to an alien society or a piece of social anthropology. When everyone seems to be telling us that the world is shrinking and globalization is creating a homogeneous whole, that’s something different. And that’s probably the main problem. Sometimes the narration can’t help but fall into a sort of surprised explanation and description which works against the ambiguity of these stories. It’s the author telling you that ‘from a high building, Tokyo does seem huge, but the best way to see how huge it really is, is to arrive on one of those flights…Tokyo is often assumed to be small and overcrowded: really it’s enormous….all extended beyond Sara’s vision’. Fortunately it‘s not too much of a distraction, though. Because this is a collection of generally understated snapshots of life which could really be anywhere. Little people move through the streets and the underground of present day Japan, meeting, misunderstanding and separating - and by and large failing to communicate. That‘ll be the contemporary short story, then.

When it works, Gardiner paints beautiful little pictures of the lost and the aimless, colliding, confused and still clinging to that small hope. ‘Returners’ is a lovely musing on the unrealised, and the unspoken yearning of ‘Kodama’ manages to be full of the potential of everyday life. ‘Diamond’ ( a down and out finds a wedding ring in the park fountain) manages to avoid the cliché which the subject pretty much demands. If I’ve any major criticism it’s probably that it’s all so nicely done, but then again most of the books I’ve read recently were written by ancient drunks who are still moaning away from beyond the grave, so it might be a personal thing.

There are occasional trips into less realist territory – ‘Ease’ reminded me of the modern isolation of Ballard or Brian Aldiss, and ‘Perspective’ speaks for itself. There also seems to be a strange map being drawn throughout , tracing the characters relationships through the Japanese railway system and the architecture of Tokyo. People meeting on bullet trains say goodbye after short, silent journeys and the world moves on again. In fact, the characters get involved in a surprising number of things in railway carriages (love, masturbation, anticipation, sleep and regret for a start). Maybe that shouldn’t be surprising after all, but I’ve not been taking the train so much recently.

Overall this is a worthwhile first collection of short stories, aside from the flaws it’s nicely understated and occasionally it’s very good. If you see it in the bookshop (unlikely I know ) and aren’t sure, try reading the final piece, ‘Kingyo’, a coming of age tale which is just perfectly simple and affecting. At it’s best, that’s exactly what Gardiner’s writing is.

Stuart Blackwood is 30 (odd), was born in Newarthill and lives in Glasgow. He supports Motherwell FC, has an MA in Economics and Philosophy and likes William Bell (the singer), Bukowski & Fante, Eric Arthur Blair, Negativeland, Eric Hobsbawm, politics, philosophy and ambiguity. He dislikes Alan Bloom and Francis Fukuyama, U2, categorization and Violence.

© 2006 Laura Hird All rights reserved.