These two searingly funny and unsettling portraits of teenagers beyond the control and largely beneath the notice of adults in 1980s Taiwan are the first English translations of works by Taiwan's most famous and best-selling literary cult figure. Chang Ta-chun's intricate narrative and keen, ironic sense of humor poignantly and piercingly convey the disillusionment and cynicism of modern Taiwanese youth.
Interweaving the events between the birth of the narrator's younger sister and her abortion at the age of nineteen, the first novel, "My Kid Sister, " evokes the complex emotional impressions of youth and the often bizarre social dilemmas of adolescence. Combining discussions of fate, existentialism, sexual awakening, and everyday "absurdities" in a typically dysfunctional household, it documents the loss of innocence and the deconstruction of a family.
In "Wild Child, " fourteen-year-old Hou Shichun drops out of school, runs away from home, and descends into the Taiwanese underworld, where he encounters an oddball assortment of similarly lost adolescents in desperate circumstances. This novel will inevitably invite comparisons with the classic "The Catcher in the Rye, " but unlike Holden Caulfield, Hou isn't given any second chances. With characteristic frankness and irony, Chang's teenagers bear witness to a new form of cultural and spiritual bankruptcy.
Chang is probably the funniest Taiwanese author I've come across so far. The protagonist (Big Head Spring) of these two novellas is hilarious and absurd, sometimes sarcastic and sometimes chucklingly matter-of-fact.
Wild Child is a somewhat chilling tale of a kid running away from home and joining a street gang in the Taipei underworld. If there weren't so many funny moments, the lasting impression would likely be one of despair and confusion (in the eyes of Big Head). As it is, it's well balanced between light and dark. My Kid Sister is somehow a lighter story, although it's mostly about the impact left on two kids of a bad father running away from his family.
Wild Child is far more linear than the first one, My Kid Sister, but both of them tend to be temporally transient. That works in favor of the books, because they're not just two individual stories, but memoirs of several time periods in one guy's life.
This appears to be his only available book in English, which is a shame since this translation came out nearly 15 years ago. I can only assume it didn't sell well, but perhaps it's time to translate another of his books and try again? I'd love to read The Weekly Journal of Young Big Head Spring, "a highly satiric and comic vision of Taiwanese society, as seen through the mandatory journal entries of an elementary school student."
Actually two stories, collected into one book for the English version. The first (my little sister) reads like a journal, although a very sporadic and chaotic one. It started off slow but was definitely worth it in the end. The second (Wild child) was more entertaining from the start, discussing a runaway joining a local gang. Here I felt the ending left me hanging, but maybe it was just over my head.
I constantly find issues with English translations of Taiwanese novels. Especially the names. I understand it's a choice between translating the sounds or the characters, but why translate the characters for the son, while apparently translating the sounds for the father? Especially when the son's name (Little Horse) sounds so similar in English to a completely unrelated person in the story (Horsefly)? Again, maybe some of it was over my head, but it seemed confusing.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This book is actually two novellas, My Kid Sister and Wild Child. I loved the first novella and would give it by itself a 5. It's intense, has a good mix of light-heartedness and heaviness, is both funny and complex, etc. etc. The second novella I'd rate much lower - a 2.5 or 3. It seems like a series of incomplete sketches. I think this is partially on purpose due to the narrator and situation, but those short sketches didn't sink their hooks into me before the novella jumped on to the next one.
I had the reoccurring thought while reading this that I would probably enjoy it more in the native Chinese—or if it had been translated by a defter hand. There was good content here but the meandering plots didn’t pair well with the prose for some reason I can’t put a finger on. (Or, equally likely, I just don’t know enough about Taiwanese culture & language to appreciate the nuances). I would definitely read another work by this author, especially if someone else translated it, just for comparison’s sake.
The illustrations were great and I really liked the way the chapters were structured.
Enjoyed reading about Taiwanese society from this author in translation. I found the first novella more engaging but both together were a nice slice of life in Taiwan.
As I read the first story that makes up the first 128 pages of Wild Kids, I almost quit reading several times. I am was not sure if it was the story itself and the way the author chose to tell it that bothered me or if it was the translation. Then I read the second story, and now I know that it was certainly not the translation, as the second story flows a lot better than the first (but the translator is the same.) The first story is an adult remembering his childhood and recollecting all the dysfunctional family dynamics and attempting to explain what has become of him and his kid sister due to the family life they have had. The second story is about a young student who runs away from home and hangs out with a small-time gang. Despite the fact that the storyteller is older in the first story, the language used by the author is much better flowing and eloquent in the second story. The first story becomes painful to read sometimes as awkward sentences pile up and certain phrases are repeated over and over. The second story, I would say, is better written than the first.
With that said, both stories have something interesting to offer. The biting cultural and political commentary is delivered with a strong sense of cynicism. Everyone from uncaring, cheating parents to ignorant, nosy school principals to insensitive skirt-chasers to ghost-seeing hoodlums get their share of cynical judgment. The narration, though uneven, gives a sense of urban grit from dilapidated "juancuns" to the dangerous back alleys of a bustling city. The point of view of the narrator is often comical as much as cynical. There is some sexual and gang violence, again described with a cynical voice, in the second story that contrasts well with the slow and steady decline of the narrator's mother's emotional health, which can be equally disturbing. In both stories, parents are detached, uncaring, self-centered weirdos. All in all, it is a harsh critique of urban life, though it is not easy to generalize from.
This is my first attempt at reading Taiwanese authors in translation. The difficulty isn't reading them in English, it is finding out that it is (mostly) academic presses that put these out.
First novella -- 5 stars -- My Kid Sister. Pitch perfect brilliant teenager recounting matter of factly his childhood through the lens of his sister getting an abortion.
Second novella -- 3 stars -- Wild Child. Pedestrian account of what appears to be the same boy from My Kid Sister running away from home to join a gang.