Upclose with Tory Parsons

HK: Why set the novel in Shanghai?
Tony Parsons: I wanted it to be an intimate little story about a man and a woman, but set against a vast canvas, like in a David Lean movie. Shanghai is one place I’ve spent time in over the years, and I’ve always thought that there more than anywhere you get a sense of the great mass of humanity, both in China and the entire world. Shanghai’s also got that Wild West-Dodge City aspect, and that’s fascinating to a writer.

HK: Were you worried some might dismiss the book as touristy?
TP: I was conscious it would be read by people who know much more about Shanghai than I do. I wanted to make it real to them, and many Shanghainese people tell me I did. For English writers, it’s easy to just set books in north London pubs. But that’s parochial, and our lives are becoming increasingly global. I believe books should be a struggle, that writers should reach for things beyond their grasp. I spent three years on this book seeking out people from all different corners of Shanghai.

HK: The book gives off mixed feelings about China.
TP: I don’t think anyone can get to know China without having mixed feelings. I definitely admire the Chinese people—their grit, determination and stoicism. I also believe you can appreciate the great historical events underway in China and still appreciate that it’s got serious problems. I don’t support the old man in Beijing; I think Communism’s one of the great idiocies of the human race. But I’m pro-China.

HK: You spend a lot of time in Hong Kong. Why?
TP: It’s my favorite place on earth. My closest friend has lived here for nearly 25 years, and for about 20 of those years I’ve been coming out here every few months. When I first visited I fell in love with the city at first sight. That was just after I was a music writer, hanging out with The Sex Pistols and The Clash, and in some ways the energy and excitement of Hong Kong replaced that for me. Now every time I finish a book, I’m dropping off the manuscript on the way to the airport to get away here.

HK: Has it changed for better or worse?
TP: I prefer it now that the British are gone. It’s more itself. And it’s proved infinitely more resilient than people said it would. The great fear was that it was going to be swallowed by the PRC and lose its uniqueness, but that hasn’t happened. I’ve been to every major Chinese city, and there’s no way that this place is like them. Chinese people are so different here. They’re not emerging from 50 years of political coma, but quite the opposite, they’ve been left to their own devices.

HK: Would you ever set a novel in Hong Kong?
TP: I’d love to. But I wouldn’t begin until I’d properly worked out how. Hong Kong isn’t an easy place to write about, and there have been plenty of crappy English-language books set here. John Lancaster’s “Fragrant Harbor” came close to being good. And there’s Richard Mason’s “The World of Suzy Wong,” which is much harder and tougher than the film was. But most of the novels tend to resort to clichés, full of triads or spies and 007 bullshit.