Book Review: "Shark's Fin and Sichuan Pepper", by Fuchsia Dunlop

I've said it before- stories of foreigners (usually Americans or continental Europeans) getting lost in Asia usually make for a good lure while still being very hit or miss. The same curiosity that compelled the protagonists often compels the prospective readers to keep turning pages. So much depends on the author's ability to not only have grown from the experience, but to be able to adequately express the depth of it in a manner a reader can identify with. No story survives without engaging characterization, and far too many tales of trial and tribulation simply fall flat and make the reader wish for their time back. 

...Looking at you, Clavell.

This time, with Fuchsia Dunlop's 2009 memoir Shark's Fin and Sichuan Pepper, it all turns out beautifully.

What might be the most important part of this book is the immersion factor. The background for the author's journey to the province of Sichuan is set within the first ten pages of chapter 1, and we the reader almost never hear about it again. That, to my mind, is just about perfect.

“Growing up in Oxford, studying in Cambridge, working in London, I had been propped up by  a string of academic and professional credentials that had seemed to define me in the eyes of  other people. But in China none of that mattered.”

That tells you everything you need to know about the author's past, really. And very little else is forthcoming. Someone who picks this book up will probably have some preconceived notions about what's inside, and the importance of imparting Just Enough Detail to enable the story is in many ways a defining factor of the memoir genre as a whole. The pages that follow are full to the brim with luscious and intensely intriguing detail of China as it was after Mao, but before the modernist eruption around the turn of the millennium.

Much of the book's magic comes from the thrill of discovery, so I won't delve into deep detail here. However, several of the author's tales come with recipes at the ends, and the ones I've tried have been superb. Speaking as a chef, the level of detail imparted in the storytelling is enormous, and any trained cook will be nodding knowingly as they turn the pages. There's nothing flowery about the storytelling where food is concerned, it's all very down to earth, realistic, and sensible.

The prose itself is also deeply thoughtful in its detail, giving a comprehensive mix of history, geography, family life, and all manner of Chinese customs past and present, deftly mingled through tales of the author's daily life in China. Her thorough exploration of first Sichuan then Hunan is sometimes tempered by sobering lessons from the natives, but that's to be expected. No story is all smiles.

For anyone wanting an engaging story, replete with information and rich with perspective, swing by the library and pick this one up for an entertaining read that's full of history, culture, and life lessons that will stick with you long after you're finished with the book. Perhaps it'll even inspire you to dig a little deeper into the bottomless well that is China.