logo
Why Sheung-King, the 2024 Writers' Trust Fiction prize winner, keeps coming back to transnational stories

Why Sheung-King, the 2024 Writers' Trust Fiction prize winner, keeps coming back to transnational stories

CBC02-12-2024

As a former international student from China living in Canada, Sheung-King is no stranger to the feelings of isolation and displacement his characters go through. Add on the weight of social and political unrest of the past 50 years in Hong Kong and you have the winning novel of the 2024 Atwood Gibson Writers' Trust Fiction Prize, Batshit Seven.
In Batshit Seven, Glen "Glue" Wu has a general apathy toward his return to Hong Kong from Toronto. As a lacklustre, weed smoking, hungover ESL teacher, Glue watches passively as Hong Kong falls into conflict around him. He cares only for his sister, who is trying to marry rich, and for both an on-and-off-again relationship and the memory of a Canadian connection now lost. Government control hardens, thrusting Glue into a journey that ultimately ends in violence.
Sheung-King's first novel, You Are Eating an Orange. You are Naked., was a finalist for multiple awards, including the Governor General's Literary Award for Fiction and the Amazon Canada First Novel Award. It was also longlisted for Canada Reads 2021. Sheung-King splits his time between Canada and China.
Sheung-King spoke to The Next Chapter 's Ryan B. Patrick earlier this year about being from and writing about Hong Kong in fiction.
The book mindfully and carefully explores life in Hong Kong and at the legacy of the British occupation. Why did you want to write about and around this time?
It's right before COVID and as a millennial who's returning to Hong Kong, having been overseas all this time, one might be disoriented thrown into this situation when there's some change happening. There's so much news coming out every day but as a Hong Kongese person living abroad, you have this kind of detachment towards the place, but you still want to connect.
How does his identity fit in this place, in all this chaos? - Sheung-King
Parts of your identity are always needing to shift because you're not really a local person anymore, having been an international student, but you're also not not belonging to another place.
So a lot of the things that are happening around that time really pushes Glue into thinking about how does he find a place here? How does his identity fit in this place, in all this chaos?
What's the meaning behind the book title?
The number seven is referencing July. The first of July is when the British handed over Hong Kong and then Hong Kong from that point on entered something called the 50 year plan where it has its own sovereignty, but it's also part of Greater China. So I'm referencing that number a lot throughout. [It's] this idea of living in a place where there's a deadline, it expires, there's only 50 years for it to be what it is.
So this search for identity parallels that of Glue's as he returns to Hong Kong as well.
[It's] this idea of living in a place where there's a deadline. - Sheung-King
Why is [the transnational] experience such a rich place for writing fiction?
I haven't read too many books international students and I haven't read too many Canadian books about international students. And those are people who are in my community, those are my friends when I was living in Canada. When you're preparing yourself as an international school student, you're preparing yourself to not be in the place where you're studying.
You're preparing yourself to go elsewhere and then once you go elsewhere, you're preparing yourself to come back or preparing yourself to stay. This kind of mobility is quite interesting to me because most of my friends growing up are also like that and I noticed that there are many similarities, but life is also very precarious.
Even though he's moping through life and he's despondent, he's no slouch in the intellectual department. He has these very insightful thoughts about the post-colonial condition, thinking about philosophy, thinking about colonization and decolonization. What's his take on the whole situation here?
There's a sense of a connective amnesia that he feels in Hong Kong because it's so focused on finance and everyday life is very corporate. He doesn't have access to any artsy communities. He lives in the suburbs alone in an island in his childhood home. And all of this is the doing of all of the larger governments that were in charge of Hong Kong and Glue is aware that Hong Kong is designed to be a place like this.
Why he longs for Canada is not only because of somebody he misses, but also back then he was more intellectually engaged, he was an activist. He had a better connection with his sister and they would go to protests together. He actually remembers a lot of his training and Marxism and decolonial theory, but it's slowly going away when he becomes more and more consumed by the kind of market forces that are used to create these empires.
It's set around the Hong Kong protests and Glue's mind state is unraveling. Without giving too much away, why should we empathize with what he's going through towards the end of the book?
I think in the end, Glue succumbs to all the pressure. He breaks and a lot of his ideals are falling apart and he becomes in a way lost again. But he finds himself in this place and I think a lot of people who are going through so much change in this part of Asia might, might also feel that there's nothing much else that you could do but do whatever you need to survive in this place that's designed to let you to survive.
I was hanging with some friends who were visiting from Canada who I've met there and they feel like they have the pressure to enjoy all the progress and the economic growth.
They actually feel like they need to live a more materialist consumerist lifestyle because the state presents itself as having done so much so that we can live like this and I think that really affected Glue towards the end of the book where he is exhausted and succumbs to being one of the the returnees, people who returned from foreign countries to work.
Ultimately, this book is an ode of sorts to Hong Kong and the transnational experience. What are some of the joys of living in Hong Kong for these characters?
They love the food, food is a big part of the culture and the scenes with the family, the bonds that they make over food. I think Glue does enjoy his neighborhood and in the suburbs next to the airport, there's something really romantic about this place. It's old and new at the same time, it has a distance from the financial districts, but it's also a lot more diverse than other suburbs.
There's something really romantic about this place. - Sheung-King
Glue does like the local life there. He likes the moments when he gets to play pick up basketball, he likes that he gets to run around in the humidity and sweat and to a certain degree he also loves running in the rain and laughing to himself. And all of these affects are coming from a genuine love for the place, the little things that like might not matter to a lot of the other people.

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

Book club to survey Sinclair's essays
Book club to survey Sinclair's essays

Winnipeg Free Press

time3 hours ago

  • Winnipeg Free Press

Book club to survey Sinclair's essays

The Free Press Book Club and McNally Robinson Booksellers are pleased to welcome Winnipeg author (and Free Press columnist) Niigaan Sinclair for the next virtual meeting on Tuesday, June 24 at 7 p.m. to read from and discuss his award-winning essay collection Wînipêk: Visions of Canada from an Indigenous Centre. Published in May 2024 by McClelland & Stewart, Wînipêk compiles a year's worth of Sinclair's Free Press columns as well as other writing about how our perception of Winnipeg, and the ways in which Indigenous and non-Indigenous citizens co-exist and survive, is a window into larger questions about colonialism and reconciliation nationwide. Wînipêk was a national bestseller, landing on a number of year-end lists of best books. Sinclair's debut collection also netted him the Governor General's Literary Award for non-fiction, news he was able to share with his father, Murray Sinclair, before he passed in November 2024. Mikaela MacKenzie / Free Press files Niigaan Sinclair In his review of Wînipêk for the Free Press, Matt Henderson says Sinclair 'takes the reader on a journey through the land, water and seasons, the underbelly and magnificence that is Winnipeg,' adding 'Sinclair identifies the overt racism as well as the legislative, calculated mindsets that have intentionally set out to destroy Indigenous Peoples and culture.' Yet Sinclair retains hope for the future of the city; 'Wînipêk is a portal into our violent past, our precarious present and the promise of tomorrow. It should be mandatory reading for all Canadians,' Henderson writes. Sinclair will join fellow Free Press columnist Jen Zoratti, McNally Robinson Booksellers co-owner Chris Hall and Free Press audience engagement manager Erin Lebar to read from Wînipêk, discuss the book and field questions from viewers and readers. Copies of Wînipêk are available to purchase at McNally Robinson Booksellers; there's no cost to join the book club or virtual discussion. Video of the meeting will be available for replay on the Free Press YouTube channel following the event. For more information and to register, visit Wînipêk

A cracking good read
A cracking good read

Winnipeg Free Press

time3 hours ago

  • Winnipeg Free Press

A cracking good read

Oology: the study — and the cherishing — of bird eggs. The Impossible Thing is largely stock mystery thriller, yet unconventionally centred on a bunch of rabid oologists, spanning decades and decades. British mystery-writer Belinda Bauer here switches gears rather dramatically from her usual trilogy fare featuring small towns beset by far too many clever, terrifying murderers inevitably entrapped by humble heroes, and opts instead to test the limits of wrapping a 'thriller' around characters — historical and contemporary — who behave in quite crazed ways because they over-value birds' eggs, in the extreme. Jay Brooks photo Belinda Bauer was named to the Booker Prize long list for her 2018 novel, Snap. The breathless opening scene of this precious egg caper plops us into the point-of-view of an apparently good-guy sniper, utterly in the middle of chasing an obviously dastardly black hat named Matthew Barr. This hook has the scant details and the onus-on-the-reader feel of a desperately clever Cold War spy caper. It chucks in murky waves of movement, absolutely nothing of dialogue nor explanations, and a big dose of our guy's driven, nigh-maniacal inner thoughts. We quickly get our man, Matthew, and pin him down so that we might pontificate at him and his gross ideology. And here we first encounter our oological MacGuffin. Why have we been chasing Matthew as if the safety of the free world depended on our valorous efforts? Because Matthew had stolen some eggs. Cut immediately to the historical set-piece as we are flung back to the 1920s. Here, we meet and follow lovely teenage Celie Sheppard and her charmingly, painfully oafish, (Of Mice and Men's) Lennie-style friend, Robert. These two are the opposite of dastardly — they are mismatched, quaint and endearing, with a touch of pathetic. The reader can't help but adore them as they do the most unusual thing: hulking Robert ties one end of a heavy rope around himself and the other to a frighteningly makeshift sitting contraption for wee Celie, and he delicately, lovingly (you can see it coming from oh-so-afar) lowers her down through 'The Crack,' a devilishly beckoning fissure in a blood-curdling overhang that teeters atop the cliffs that survey the chilling, blustering North Sea. Why is sweet Robert dangling his beloved Celie's fragile life? Because beneath that overhang nest hundreds of guillemots. At least once a year, these otherwise ordinary seabirds settle under that dramatically protective ledge to lay their eggs, one per guillemot couple. They're beautifully coloured eggs, extraordinary in their peculiar variations of hue — no two eggs are precisely the same colour, nor sport the same intricate patterns. These snowflake eggs therefore are ridiculously valuable and insanely coveted — by keen, studious oologists, to be sure, but also by far-too-wealthy, early 20th-century British male snobs. Dainty Celie and lumbering Robert eke their way through their harsh existence by, just once a year, poaching one of those prized eggs. Jump back to the present and we meet two differently charming, very young men (although, again, the charm is purchased mostly by grand awkwardness): Patrick and Nick. Nick has a tag, one that just about captures this whole book: he's known as Weird Nick. We never really learn why, but nonetheless must agree wholeheartedly — this fellow was bestowed with an apt epithet. In any case, stashed up in the attic of Nick's mother's house is one of these vital eggs that a century ago Celie and Robert had so frightfully and fatefully retrieved. Immediately and inevitably it is stolen before poor Nick realizes the nature of the thing he was just about roosting on — and the prolonged chase scene is on. Two teenage buds who bonded over Call of Duty fling themselves into a real-life sortie, bumbling their way over harrowing hill and through daunting dale to get that darned egg back. The Impossible Thing You end up with spectacularly colourful, spectacularly invaluable 1920s eggs and the conflicting quests not only for ownership of them but also for some kind of philosophical comprehension of their essential meaning driving a — let's be honest, weirdly — gripping scramble across divergent time and rural place. It's a lot. Yet somehow, it works. In some spades. In 2018, Bauer was unexpectedly longlisted for the Booker Prize for her eighth novel, Snap. Bauer's books are hardly rarefied literature. Still, they are sporadically sprinkled with exquisite moments of diction and syntax, moments that catch one's breath, even as they are so fleeting. One can only imagine that the sum of such moments in Snap achieved some sort of critical mass that garnered Bauer the celebratory nod. Good. The Impossible Thing (Bauer's 10th book) will not likely repeat the feat. (Again: it's about frantically, irrationally chasing bird eggs.) But it oozes the charm of its quirky props and their dogged pursuers — eggs, and the oologists who adore them so. Laurence Broadhurst teaches English and religion at St. Paul's High School in Winnipeg.

Fit for the pit
Fit for the pit

Winnipeg Free Press

time3 hours ago

  • Winnipeg Free Press

Fit for the pit

There are few things punks enjoy more than arguing over what or who is or isn't punk. If nothing else, In Too Deep: When Canadian Punk Took Over the World — a new book documenting commercially successful Canadian musical exports of the early Aughts, with varied ties to the punk world — should prove to be a spirited conversation starter. Just how far that conversation goes will depend on how crusty the punks involved in that conversation are. John Woods / Free Press files In January 2025, Sum 41 perform at the Canada Life Centre in Winnipeg. If one grants that the artists featured in the book — such as Gob, Sum 41, Billy Talent, and Napanee, Ont.'s very own superstar Avril Lavigne — are at least influenced by punk, if not dyed-in-the-darkest-denim punk themselves, then one might consider this well-researched book a welcome addition to a growing list of Canadian music histories focused on relatively contemporary subjects. Overall, In Too Deep provides an insightful look at the music industry in Canada during the early days of the 21st century, and how online innovations such as file sharing, message boards and MySpace impacted the industry, for good or ill. While chapters on Billy Talent, who gained massive popularity in Europe, and Alexisonfire, who broke out in the American hardcore scene, cover much the same ground as the chapter detailing their careers in Michael Barclay's Hearts on Fire: Six Years That Changed Canadian Music 2000-2005, they do make for solid introductions for readers unfamiliar with either group or the punk scenes from which those Ontario bands emerged. Similarly, while devoted fans of any of these groups may or may not come across any information they were unaware of beforehand, those without much prior knowledge are provided insightful snapshots of the early histories and the big breaks of all nine artists profiled. Organized and written in much the same manner as Dan Ozzi's Sellout! — which detailed the DIY-to-superstar trajectories of American punks such as Green Day, Against Me!, My Chemical Romance and more — In Too Deep is a very readable, if only passingly critical, overview of the artists involved and an overlooked era in Canadian music history generally, where homegrown groups of misfits certainly made major international commercial splashes and commensurate influence on many big name mainstream artists coming up today. Commercial and mainstream, of course, being the operative words. In wrapping up the chapter on Sum 41, Bobkin and Feibel state that the group 'became Canada's first internationally acclaimed punk band,' although the statement isn't qualified beyond a list of sales achievements, and that the band's songs appeared in a number of Hollywood films. Weekly A weekly look at what's happening in Winnipeg's arts and entertainment scene. There are many Canadian punk bands, both predecessors and contemporaries of the artists profiled here, who may not have had the sales numbers to go up against Sum 41, but whose artistic and cultural impact is much more profound. Bobkin and Feibel do pay some lip service to these contemporary groups, with brief but well-placed 'Further Listening' sidebars throughout, which feature critically acclaimed local heavy hitters such as Propagandhi — whose debut How to Clean Everything is credited by Fat Mike with establishing Fat Wreck Chords' signature sound of the '90s, a style credited by the authors to have influenced at least half the bands featured here — as well as Toronto's Fucked Up, among others. In Too Deep But the legacy of groups such as DOA and Teenage Head are given just brief nods in the introduction, while punk pioneers such as SNFU and Nomeansno, who spent decades in the punk trenches and influenced countless bands along the way (and to this day), aren't given any ink at all. Which just goes to show, you can't please everybody all the time — especially not punks. Sheldon Birnie is a Winnipeg writer and the author of Missing Like Teeth: An oral history of Winnipeg underground rock 1990-2001.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into the world of global news and events? Download our app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store